1,261 words
One would think that here, beyond The Wall, in the primordial snowscape that is the Great White North, we would still be revelling in wind-swept freedom and happiness, hunting caribou across the tundra all while sporting oversized, plaid shirt-jacket hybrids or shackets. Maybe at one time Canadians were like the wildings who sprang from George R. R. Martin’s degenerate noggin: living in the far north, periodically fending off White Walkers, communing with nature, and saying, “You know nothing, Justin Trudeau.” (more…)