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Eh, Quebec? On t'aime, mais allez'y, deja
You'll have to excuse my French grammar - any mistakes are mine, not that of Mr. Boisvert or Madame Munn. They did their best.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Pauline Marois, the titular head of Quebec. She has declared sovreignity to be an "emergency".

I will take Mme. Marois at her word. It's a crisis of massive proportions, costing us millions in wasted time - heck, just the cost to the environment, when you consider the trees sacrificed to take endless rounds of ballots, is epidemic.

Here's the solution - wash our hands. Go, already - poop or get off the pot.

That's right. Every election, the question will be on the ballot - "Do you want Quebec to leave Canada?" (yes or no)
If ever the electorate decides, overwhelmingly and undeniably - let's say sixty percent of voters, because this is one you can't take back - that they want out, then they're out. Self-determination at its' simplest and finest. No awkwardly-worded questions - something Pierre from Val D'or can read just as easily as Marc from Montreal.
Get less than thirty percent "yes", and the question is off the table for the next election - you're committed.

If you're going to go, then go. We'll be sad, but you'll be living right next door - and we'll chuckle as you party the rent away and come running back to Mommy and Daddy, hoping we'll bail you out. We'll still visit La Vielle Quartier, Anglos will still invade Mont-Tremblant (maybe more than ever, since it'll be a foreign and exotic country) and you'll still get to sneer at our feeble attempts at French (see the headline above). We'll still love you, even as we're exasperated.

You can go try solving your "emergency" on your own. We'll be here when you need us. We're funny like that.
Just quit stalling and yelling about it. Va t'en, deja.

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