In a move that has sent shockwaves through the nation's liver and collective sanity, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau's successor, Mark Carney, has declared Alberta 'essential' to Canada. This announcement comes as the province teeters on the brink of a separatist vote, a moment of high political theatre that demands a drink. Preferably something strong, perhaps a gin that tastes of despair and maple syrup.
Carney, a man whose face appears to have been carved from a block of beige stone, stood before a scrum of journalists in Ottawa. His words were measured, his tie was straight, and his message was clear: without Alberta, Canada is a flat white without the foam, a moose without antlers, a Tim Hortons without a drive-thru. 'Alberta is the economic engine of this nation,' Carney intoned, his voice as dry as a cracker left out in a prairie drought. 'Without it, we are merely a collection of provinces huddling for warmth.'
The declaration has been met with predictable outrage from the separatist camp, led by a man who looks like he combs his hair with axle grease and whose political platform appears to be a single sheet of paper reading 'More Oil, Less French.' They have seized on Carney's words as evidence of federal panic, a panic that is, admittedly, quite enjoyable to observe from the safe distance of a pub in Toronto.
Meanwhile, in Alberta, reaction has been mixed. 'Essential?' scoffed a man in a cowboy hat, his face the colour of a well-done steak. 'We're not essential, we're indispensable. There's a difference, you know.' He then returned to his pickup truck, which was idling in a no-parking zone, its engine rumbling like a caffeinated bear.
The separatist vote, scheduled for next month, has been described by experts as a 'bloody silly idea' and a 'monumental waste of time and money.' But who are they to stand in the way of democracy? Not I, for one. I say let them vote. Let them see what it's like to be a nation of strip malls and oil rigs, a country where the national anthem is an endless loop of 'Friends in Low Places.' Let them trade poutine for something called 'gravy cheese fries' and replace the beaver with a grizzly bear wearing sunglasses.
Carney, for his part, is no fool. He knows that without Alberta, Canada's GDP would take a hit, and our ability to annoy the Americans about their gun laws would be severely diminished. He also knows that the separatist movement is largely a product of boredom and a desire for attention, much like a teenager threatening to run away from home. The question is, how long can the federal government placate them with empty promises and the occasional ribbon-cutting ceremony?
As the nation holds its breath, I find myself reaching for the gin. Not out of despair, but out of a deep, abiding love for the absurd. For what is Canada if not a collection of contradictions? A country that prides itself on politeness while its politics are anything but. A country where the weather is as unpredictable as a parliamentary vote of confidence. A country where, in the end, we all just want to be left alone with our hockey and our maple syrup.
So here's to you, Alberta. You are essential, in the way that a headache is essential to a hangover. You are essential, in the way that a moose is essential to a traffic jam. And you are essential, in the way that a separatist vote is essential to a good, cathartic laugh. Cheers.
