Home is the place where they have to take you in, Robert Frost wrote. In the case of the American army deserters now arriving in Canada, home is the place where they want to give you a lethal injection. So all they're asking of Canada, their new home, is a bed in the spare room of a Quaker family, and all we ask of them is that they never complain they can't see the puck. That remark makes Canadians crazy.

These young men--there have been at least two so far, and probably women to come --are different from the Vietnam lot in that they weren't drafted. The United States itself is different in that it's worse. Such is the huge divide between rich and poor that these young people signed up so they could afford to go to college. They thought that National Guard duty meant, say, guarding supermarkets against looters during the next Mississippi flood. Then they were in Iraq with American soldiers and mercenaries and some pissed-off troops from Poland and Italy.

Little did they know that the man who stole the 2000 election would boast with that unnerving, uncertain grin that he was "a wartime president." Osbert Sitwell once wrote a poem about Junior's very situation: "I think, myself,/That my new war/Is one of the nicest we've had;/It is not war really,/It is only a training for the next one/Besides, we have not declared war;/We are merely restoring order." Trouble is, Mr. Sitwell wrote this in 1919. How embarrassing for Mr. Bush, a Chihuahua chewing the pant leg of history.

Read economist Paul Krugman's The Great Unravelling about how Dick Cheney's army of the radical right has given the rich tax breaks the way you pump food down the throat of a fat goose until they flap their wings to signal they're full, thanks, and you keep squeezing the bulb. The poor and middle class got comparatively nothing to such an extent that for the first time in history, Americans on average are becoming shorter than their European counterparts, who are raising ceilings and lengthening beds. Americans, through the 19th and 20th centuries, were two inches taller than the peasanty Brits; now they're half an inch shorter, the result of bad food and no health care for the poor.

I'm not saying the deserters signed up as part of a long-term plan to avoid having short children, but that's how it worked out. You may think the United States won't execute them if Canada sends them back. But the U.S. Army no longer even recognizes shell shock (a soldier who had anxiety attacks after seeing an Iraqi sliced in half was recently charged with cowardice, which means a firing squad). Even Bill Clinton, in 1992, upheld the death sentence of a man so profoundly brain-damaged that when he was given his last meal, he said he would save his pecan pie for later.

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You must now believe in peace, order and good government. Don't pursue happiness; let it find you.

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If you want to understand politics, grab the whole range of American politics and move it left. Our current Liberals are conservative Democrats, our New Democrats are Naderites, except younger, cooler and not getting Democratic death threats; our Conservatives, who used to be Reform, are Radical Right Republicans on Nyquil. They don't like immigrants; I'd vote NDP if I were you.

Religion: If you have one, don't mention it at parties. The subject does not arise here. Army deserter Jeremy Hinzman is a Buddhist; you can talk about that, Jeremy, because people think it's yoga. Jeremy's a nice name. None of the deserters so far have been called Billy Ray. If you are, change it to Jeremy-- there's a good Canadian.

Learn the name of our PM. Then tell us, because we forget. Don't refer to breasts as hooters, headlights or a great rack. Just call them breasts.

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Recycle like you mean it. Read Fire and Ice by pollster Michael Adams about how Canadians are growing ever more different from Americans. Then read Margaret Atwood and Doug Coupland, shop at Roots, stop in at Tim Hortons for a pile of Timbits (...). Arrive in a Prius or a Smart Car, which shouts, "I care about the environment," and you, short Buddhist, are a shoo-in for citizenship.