question of jackboots soon arose,and things went on from there.After the reading I had a conversation with a young man who thought I had been unfair to men.He wanted men to be liked totally,not just from the heels to the knees,and not just as individuals but as a group;and he thought it negative and inegalitarian of me to have alluded to war and rape.I pointed out that as any of us knew these were two activities not widely engaged in by women,but he was still upset."We're both in this together,"he protested.I admitted that this was so;but could he,maybe,see that our relative positions might be a little different. 2 This is the conversation one has with Americans,even,uh,good Americans,when the dinner-table conversation veers round to Canadian-American relations."We're in this together,"they like to say,especially when it comes to continental energy reserves How do you explain to them,as delicately as possible,why they are not categorically beloved?It gets like the old Lifebuoy ads2:even their best friends won't tell them.And Canadians are supposed to be their best friends,right?Members of the family? 3 Well,sort of.Across the river from Michigan,so near and yet so far,there I was at the age of eight,reading their Donald Duck comic books(originated,however,by one of ours:yes,Walt Disney's parents were Canadian)and coming at the end to Popsicle Pete3,who promised me the earth if only I would save wrappers,but took it all away from me again with a single asterisk:Offer Good Only in the United States.Some cynical members of the world community may be forgiven for thinking that the asterisk is there,in invisible ink,on the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. 4 But quibbles like that aside,and good will assumed,how does one go about liking Americans?Where does one begin?Or,to put it another way,why did the Canadian women lock themselves in the john during a 1970s "international"feminist conference being held in Toronto?Because the American sisters were being "imperialist,"that's why. 5 But then,it's always a little naive of Canadians to expect that Americans,of whatever political stamp,should stop being imperious.How can they?The act is that the United States is an empire and Canada is to it as Gaul4 was to Rome. 6 It is hard to explain to Americans what it feels like to be a Canadian.Pessimisits among us would say that one has to translate the experience into their own terms and that this is necessary because Americans are incapable of thinking in any other terms-and this in itself is part of the problem.(Witness all those draft dodgers3 who went into culture shock when they discovered to their horror that Toronto was not Syracuse5.) 7 Here is a translation:Picture a Mexico with a population ten times larger than that of the United States.That would put it at about two billion.Now suppose that the official American language is Spanish,that 75 percent of the books Americans buy and 90 percent of the movies they see are Mexican,and that the profits flow across the border to Mexico.If an American does scrape it together to make a movie,the Mexicans won't let him show it in the States,because they own the distribution outlets.If anyone tries to change this ratio,not only the Mexicans but many fellow Americans cry "National chauvinism,"or,even more effectively,"National socialism."After all,the American public prefers the Mexican product.It's what they're used to.7 question of jackboots soon arose, and things went on from there. After the reading I had a conversation with a young man who thought I had been unfair to men. He wanted men to be liked totally, not just from the heels to the knees, and not just as individuals but as a group; and he thought it negative and inegalitarian of me to have alluded to war and rape. I pointed out that as any of us knew these were two activities not widely engaged in by women, but he was still upset. “We’re both in this together,” he protested. I admitted that this was so; but could he, maybe, see that our relative positions might be a little different. 2 This is the conversation one has with Americans, even, uh, good Americans, when the dinner-table conversation veers round to Canadian-American relations. “We’re in this together,” they like to say, especially when it comes to continental energy reserves. How do you explain to them, as delicately as possible, why they are not categorically beloved? It gets like the old Lifebuoy ads 2 : even their best friends won’t tell them. And Canadians are supposed to be their best friends, right? Members of the family? 3 Well, sort of. Across the river from Michigan, so near and yet so far, there I was at the age of eight, reading their Donald Duck comic books (originated, however, by one of ours: yes, Walt Disney’s parents were Canadian) and coming at the end to Popsicle Pete 3 , who promised me the earth if only I would save wrappers, but took it all away from me again with a single asterisk: Offer Good Only in the United States. Some cynical members of the world community may be forgiven for thinking that the asterisk is there, in invisible ink, on the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. 4 But quibbles like that aside, and good will assumed, how does one go about liking Americans? Where does one begin? Or, to put it another way, why did the Canadian women lock themselves in the john during a 1970s “international” feminist conference being held in Toronto? Because the American sisters were being “imperialist,” that’s why. 5 But then, it’s always a little naïve of Canadians to expect that Americans, of whatever political stamp, should stop being imperious. How can they? The act is that the United States is an empire and Canada is to it as Gaul4 was to Rome. 6 It is hard to explain to Americans what it feels like to be a Canadian. Pessimisits among us would say that one has to translate the experience into their own terms and that this is necessary because Americans are incapable of thinking in any other terms—and this in itself is part of the problem. (Witness all those draft dodgers 5 who went into culture shock when they discovered to their horror that Toronto was not Syracuse 6 .) 7 Here is a translation: Picture a Mexico with a population ten times larger than that of the United States. That would put it at about two billion. Now suppose that the official American language is Spanish, that 75 percent of the books Americans buy and 90 percent of the movies they see are Mexican, and that the profits flow across the border to Mexico. If an American does scrape it together to make a movie, the Mexicans won’t let him show it in the States, because they own the distribution outlets. If anyone tries to change this ratio, not only the Mexicans but many fellow Americans cry “National chauvinism,” or, even more effectively, “National socialism.” After all, the American public prefers the Mexican product. It’s what they’re used to