So, it has come to pass that while CFP now finds itself in a disturbing new Carney-kind of Canada, our hearts and souls are firmly planted in America
This column is dedicated to all of our mostly American and some Canadian friends worried about Canada Free Press (CFP) now that WEF’er Mark Carney is Prime Minister of a much troubled Canada.
There is no doubt that all Canadians are under the threat of a prime minister who wasn’t elected so much as he was “installed” by power-lusting Liberal Party members joined at the hip with the Klaus Schwab-founded World Economic Forum.
CFP admittedly sees President Donald J. Trump as (mostly) heroic, and sees Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney as (mostly) dictatorially dangerous to the future of Canada.
We can’t help but be grateful that dictators like Carney see mere serfs such as CFP, not worth bothering about. Carney and his wife, both snobs since their long ago university days, don’t bother with small folk, but only with celebrities and the elite.
One thing for President Trump to openly admire British Crown King Charles III and his beloved late mother, quite another for a Canadian PM to hand Charles a speech devised by his PMO to read out aloud at the so-called “mostly symbolic” recent Reopening of Canadian Parliament.
Canada Free Press is on Canadian soil (or what is left of it), but longing to be in America, a dream impossible to achieve because of the lack the finances needed to escape and see it safely through.
Some Canadians, still hopelessly caught up in rampant DJT Syndrome, despise CFP for holding America and all that it stands for in such high regard—even not knowing why we do:
Long before he was ever elected president, the author of this article, interviewed Trump by chance when the Toronto Sun, where I was then a reporter, dispatched me to cover the speech of Stephen Lewis, a well-known, far left Canadian politician, at the United Nations.
Lewis’s speech was about the occupation of Afghanistan by the then, Soviet Union.
Fortunately for me, three Afghani professors acting as tour guides, had been seeing me through my babe-in-the-woods like travels through New York City, where I had never been before.
At the UN, having seen me take copious notes , they asked me for my take after the speech. I told them, I had been mightily impressed. They told me that Lewis had made the EXACT same speech for the past three years, but nothing had changed in Afghanistan.
I called my Toronto Sun editors to tell them that I wouldn’t be sending in a write-up on the speech report. They informed me that meant there would be an empty space on the front page, and that if I couldn’t come up with something else, PDQ, I would be fired!
My professor friends urged me not to panic because they had a potential replacement story lined up to fill in the front page.
They walked me down the block to a coffee shop where real estate developer Donald Trump, unknown to me, had agreed to an interview.
Still shaken upon my arrival, he advised me, “I will speak slowly, you just have to take notes, before calling out to a passing waitress, “Please bring my guest a coffee”.
During the interview, Trump spoke passionately about the New York City Wollman Skating Rink, he wanted to save, which he ultimately did.
To me, President Trump is the same kind, gracious and passionate man he’s always been, an impression of him that carries through to the present day.
However, the America First President DJ Trump is not the only reason why I so much admire America.
Save for a few dear Canadian friends, most of CFP friends are American, some of whom we met in person during years later Tea Party forays into Washington, D.C. and several other states.
For years, my mother lived on Pearl Street in Albany, N.Y., where I got to visit her, including my first unforgettable Thanksgiving there.
My mother worked for the Albany Billiard Ball Company. The Albany Billiard Ball Company was an American manufacturer of billiard balls based in Albany, New York. The company was founded in 1868, manufacturing for over 100 years, before going out of business in 1986.
The Albany Billiard Ball Company was remarkably kind to all of its employees, and it was their pension to my mother that allowed her to return to her home town in Tignish, P.E.I, in her senior years.
It was as a youngster that I got to read all about President Abraham Lincoln after my father bought a British encyclopedia from a travelling salesman.
These were back in the days before I was left in a Maritime Orphanage, where I fell in love with the American, upbeat postulant nuns who made annual visits there.
Finally, 90% of CFP readers are American. 95% of CFP regular columnists are American.
Because CFP ardently believes that Trump’s America is our best hope for saving the West, most of our news coverage is American, rather than Canadian.
How can we help but foster love and admiration for America?
So, it has come to pass that while CFP now finds itself in a disturbing new Carney-kind of Canada, our hearts and souls are firmly planted in America.
God Bless America. God Bless Trump. God Bless Americans, who are patriotic enough to “Fight!” “Fight!” “Fight!” for the freedom of the West!
Read next: Democrats Plan Strategy to Eliminate Trump’s Canada Tariffs
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