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The stigma of being Number One

It is only the freezing cold temperatures visited on us by our friend, Mr. Arctic Outflow, that keeps us from collectively basking in the warm glow of finally being Number One.
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It is only the freezing cold temperatures visited on us by our friend, Mr. Arctic Outflow, that keeps us from collectively basking in the warm glow of finally being Number One. Okay, maybe Number Two still, as always, in the shadow of our neighbour to the south. But we're putting up a hell of a fight. And given the Coefficient of Charisma enjoyed by The Obama - versus the total lack thereof, and only occasional glimpses of humanity of any kind, of Little Stevie Hapless - heck, we just might step up to gold by the time the cloud of hot air dissipates over Copenhagen.

Canada, we're climate pirates. Arrrg, and we're better at it than almost anyone else in the world. Who'da thunk?

Yes, from sea to sea to sea - and especially in Alberta - we're the poster child for climate excess, the thuggish delinquent the rest of the world is warning their children not to play with. With an oil-slicked duck having replaced the buck-toothed, smiling, diligent if boring beaver as Canada's symbolic national animal, we've gone rogue and lifted ourselves by our own bootstraps to the exalted position of Destroyers of the Earth.

Damn Sam, crank up the thermostat, crack open an ice-cold Kokanee and tune in David Suzuki on the big screen TeeVee. This is going to be good.

Of course, it isn't quite how we pictured Canada's Century. And it's endlessly fascinating to watch the country morph from white hat to black hat in less time than it took to declare and defeat the swine flu pandemic. Blame it on global cooling, eh?

And let's be honest. Outside Alberta, Canada's wearing the cloak of darkness uncomfortably. First we find out we're not peacekeepers any more; we're just your garden variety warriors, killing, being killed, all for... well, exactly for what has been lost in the fog of war in a country that's been generating both fog and war since time and history began. And it's not like we couldn't take some comfort in the historic knowledge that the whole quag... fiasco had noble beginnings.

That small comfort unfortunately vanished like the chimera it was when we found out our troops, with the knowledge of our government - with the possible but highly implausible exception of Peter "The Weasel" MacKay - were turning prisoners of war over to Afghani security forces who employed creative, if anachronistic, questioning methods. Or, as Rummy used to like to say, enhanced interrogation techniques. Kinda makes torture sound like laundry detergent: New! Improved! Fresh as all outdoors! Sustainable? Well, not likely.

Okay, so coming into the home stretch leading up to the Greenest Olympics Ever TM , Canada's now a warrior society that embraces torture. But at least we were able to take some solace in being environmentally-conscientious warrior torturers.

Alas, no more. After a disappointing showing on Day 1 of Copenhagenstock, nudged out by the Aussies and Saudis no less, Canada pulled up its socks and won gold, garnering Day 2's Fossil of the Day award for our underwhelming greenhouse gas reduction targets. If GHG targets were akin to, say, efforts at quitting smoking, Canada would be in the "thinking hard about it but not really ready to make a commitment" stage.

We've been dubbed a corrupt petro-state in the British press - who cares? - been tongue-lashed by the New York Times and even had the dictatorial finger of the environmentally-enlightened Chinese wagged at us. O Canada; oh, the humanity.

So, rising to the challenge, stung by this dramatic reversal of public opinion, what are we going to do about it? Let's try this as more of a protest chant, okay?

"What are we going to do about it?" "Nothing!"

"When are we going to do it?" "Now!"

Repeat as necessary... or at least until something else bright and shiny - the Olympics perhaps - catches our attention.

But take heart, Canada. We're overwhelmingly in crowded, if not exactly good, company. What's going to come out of the Ten Days of Copenhagen? Not even a partridge in a pear tree. Here's what's going to happen. The "developing" countries are going to demand the "developed" countries foot the bill for, well, everything. They're going to argue it isn't fair to impose stiff GHG controls on their impoverished souls because they haven't had a fair chance to contribute significantly to Earth's toxic atmosphere syndrome.

The developed countries are going to hang their heads in mock shame and say everyone has to do their part, poor countries included. Some tepid agreements are going to be made, signed, ignored and renegotiated in a couple of years. Then all the delegates and all their elves are going to get back on airplanes and punch a thousand holes in the ozone layer as they stretch out in first-class comfort on their way home.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the world's multinational oil companies, er, energy companies, are going to continue to insist, in the immortal words of the Captain of Road Prison 36, that what we have here is a failure to communicate. "The industry (oil sands) has not been as pro-active (weasel word alert) as it should have been... in making sure the public understands the balance... between the economy and the environment," said the chairman of one of the Earth raping energy companies. "This clearly has the hallmarks of being a situation in which the reputation is under siege and needs to be managed." Managed... as in spun... as in obfuscated... as in lied about and presented as a wholesome alternative to freezing in the dark and driving teams of oxen down the Don Valley to get to work.

The debate around climate change has gotten so distorted, so twisted by the forces of the status quo, that the latest climate change "action" gaining traction among the redneck Canadian fringe is - and I'm not making this up - to severely limit immigration. Seriously. The logic, and I use the word loosely, behind the argument is that immigrants to Canada largely come from underdeveloped countries. Letting these people move to developed Canada, a large, cold land, increases their GHG footprint by several orders of magnitude. Better they stay in the warmer, impoverished countries from whence they hail. One can only suppose the logical extension of this line of reasoning(sic) is awarding ourselves carbon credits if we also send a bunch back where they came from.

Who said it wasn't easy to be green... and red at the same time. How Christmas.

So with a heaping helping of business as usual, the tarnishing effects of Climategate e-mails and scientific cover-ups, the climate-change deniers and global cooling quacks, tell me, what can a poor boy do?

I know. Let's all jump on the Olympic bandwagon and whistle past the graveyard. C'mon, what the heck. It's not like I have any children's future to fret over.