By John Q. Hosedrinker 
In a surprising move, President Donald Trump rescinded Canada’s invitation to join his Board of Peace initiative. The withdrawal was communicated via a Truth Social post addressed to Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney. Trump asserted the Board would be “the most prestigious Board of Leaders ever assembled.” This decision highlights a shift in international relations and signals potential tension between the two countries.
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Trump says he is withdrawing Canada’s invitation to Board of Peace, and honestly, the reaction seems to be a collective shrug, maybe even a sigh of relief, from the Great White North. It’s like when you’re “uninvited” to your least favorite cousin’s birthday party – a party you were never planning on attending in the first place. This entire situation feels less like a diplomatic crisis and more like a playground spat.
You see, the general sentiment is that this “Board of Peace” is not a club anyone in Canada was particularly keen on joining. It seems to be perceived as a gathering of, well, let’s just say characters of questionable repute. The suggestion that it’s populated by “the world’s dictators” and a “who’s who of the world’s dictators, and a massive collection of 3rd world leaders” paints a vivid, if unflattering, picture. The idea of associating with such a group? Not exactly appealing.
The irony isn’t lost on anyone. It’s almost as if Trump is trying to save face after being snubbed himself. Maybe the whole thing started with a perceived slight, perhaps someone making him look bad on the world stage. Now, instead of gracefully accepting a non-invitation, he’s taking a page out of the “you’re uninvited from my party because you said you weren’t coming” playbook. It’s the kind of move that feels more childish than statesmanlike.
For many Canadians, this feels like dodging a bullet. There’s a strong undercurrent of the belief that joining this board would have required some sort of financial contribution, perhaps even to Trump himself or his associates. The implication is clear: Canada would have been expected to pay to play, and no one was willing to open their wallets for this particular “game.” To be free from his “grift,” well that is a compliment. It’s a bit like declining an RSVP and then being told you’re being disinvited.
Then there’s the whole “Carney’s speech” angle. Apparently, someone (presumably a Canadian) gave a speech that outshined Trump’s own contributions, leaving him looking less than impressive. This seems to be the fuel that ignited the whole withdrawal scenario. It’s the classic case of someone getting their ego bruised and deciding to take their ball and go home, or in this case, uninvite someone.
The overall tone is one of amusement and, frankly, a bit of disgust. The phrase “evil orange cunt” is thrown around, which sums up the general perception. The board is being called a “Legion of Doom” and the implication is that any association with it is to be avoided. The idea of being extorted for a billion dollars in order to join what is effectively a “fake UN of criminals and rogue states” is seen as a ridiculous proposition.
There’s also a sense that this withdrawal is a badge of honor. It’s almost a validation of Canada’s values, a confirmation that they’re on the right side of things. It’s seen as a signal to the world and an encouragement to boycott all people who are involved in his “Board of Peace”. Avoiding involvement with this group is a win in the eyes of the majority.
The general sentiment coming from Canada seems to be a mix of relief, a little bit of pride and a whole lot of apathy. It’s as if they were never interested in the first place, and now they’ve been given a convenient out. It’s not just that they didn’t want to be involved. Many people see this as a chance to avoid being associated with something potentially damaging. In the end, it’s a story of a perceived slight, a bruised ego, and a group of people who are happy to be left out of the party.