Prince George snubs Justin Trudeau


Anon Supreme
Senior Member
Apr 29, 2016
All hail Prince George after Trudeau snub

Little Prince George is my new hero.

If you are sick of Justin Trudeau’s touchy-feely schtick, I bet Georgie is your hero, too.

When the royal tyke rebuffed the PM’s cutesy greeting on a B.C. tarmac, he struck a blow for millions of Canadians who cringe after nearly a year of “sunny ways.” The video warms this commoner’s cockles.

There’s natty Justin, 44, oozing smarm in a skinny suit, kneeling with intent to charm. There’s George, 3, in sky-blue knit sweater, navy shorts and knee socks, holding dad Prince William’s hand.

Justin tries a low five, then a high five, then a pseudo-adult handshake on the pint-sized future king. For a second, I think he’s going to chuck the little gaffer under the chin.

The goofiness lasts less than 60 seconds. Let’s call it the Minute Schmaltz, with apologies to Chopin.

George is not impressed, clearly. He shakes his head, ignores Trudeau like he’s not supposed to talk to strangers, then walks off (in his first pair of big-boy shoes with laces, reportedly), waving instead to the throngs of future subjects.

The British press is lapping up the wee royal snub.

“Prince George leaves Justin Trudeau hanging,” reports the Independent. “Failed high-five,” observes the Telegraph. “Awkward,” declares the Daily Mail.

Awkward? Tell us about it, Brits.

Justin has been trying to charm our pants off with his “sunny ways” since last October’s election. He bats his eyes, he sighs, he pouts fetchingly, softens his voice, tosses his Hollywood bangs, puts hand to heart. His wife does, too, sometimes even bursting into sappy song.

It’s like we’re governed by John Lennon and Yoko Ono in the Age of Aquarius, except Yoko is a better singer.

Call me passe, but whatever happened to the day when men were men, women were women and politicians were politicians? Ronald Reagan never batted his eyes. Neither did Pierre Trudeau, except at Barbra Streisand. Stephen Harper never even blinked, far as you could tell. His hair didn’t move much, either.

That’s true of all great leaders. They don’t do cutesy. Our front-rank prime ministers — Laurier, Macdonald, Mackenzie King, Mulroney, Pearson, Borden, Dief — never got all ga-ga or la-di-da, especially with a future king.

They weren’t huggy-kissy. Two top Fathers of Confederation, Sir John A. Macdonald and Sir Oliver Mowat, actually came to blows during a debate — and Macdonald, a notorious drunk, once punched a heckler.

I hoped Elbowgate would put the boot to “sunny ways,” but no such luck. Elbowing a woman does not qualify you as a tough guy.

If only Justin had punched Tom Mulcair, or vice versa. It might have ended this era of lovey-dovey, this air of excruciating sensitivity that covers Trudeau’s Ottawa like a blanket of maple syrup.

Now we’re Deepak Chopra North, seekers of inner peace and truth, gazing wide-eyed at the world and trying to get in touch with our feelings, wherever the hell they went during the Harper years.

Hit it, guru Chopra: “Nothing is more important than reconnecting with your bliss.” Justin surely is a believer. What a sensitive, sensitive guy. He connects to his inner bliss with hugs, selfies and viral videos, doffing his shirt, doing push-ups and gooing at babies at every chance.

Prince George didn’t buy it, either.

Long live the future king.

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