Is Canada Sad or Angry?

In a neighbourhood unlike any other I have experienced this long slithering snake of a campaign yesterday. Just about no one was willing to answer their door. That is some oceanic trench deep fear those people are living in.

I read people pretty good even if they have little, if anything, to say at their door. Enough to give me a fairly accurate sense of the political mood of a neighbourhood and every neighbourhood is a little different from the one next door. Every individual different a snowflakes. When people will not even let you look at them, or if they do unlock their house, you see nothing more of them than what you can see in a door just barely opened, you can spend hours in a place and learn very little about what people think and feel about anything.

I cannot help but feel sad because most of the people inside arrived in Canada seeking Freedom who long ago found they had moved here only to become losers in a lost land.

"I sure as fuck would not want to live here," was how my partner, who had been chosen to accompany me because of his neighbourhood appropriate language skills, described his feeling about the place as we walked back to our car.    

You hear things behind their doors, like the sound of a piano being played then not being played until we had stepped out of a front yard. Sometimes you can feel eyes on you from security cameras and from behind dirty windows. You can smell cooking and marijuana being smoked in large quantities. Dogs sounding their alarm.

If Fear I A Best Man's Friend, these motherfuckers only need their dogs as alarms.