Now, in the 21^st century, forward thinking Klan members are looking at ways to financially exploit this successful brand, giving the organization a more corporate sheen and putting the defining racist principles that govern the organization on the backburner. In an effort to accomplish this goal, they’ve put out a broad call to agencies and individuals across the globe to help in a rebrand, and I was one of the people lucky enough to be contacted.

1. KKK’s Fried Chicken Shack

A fast food franchise throughout the rural south would serve as an excellent transition business, moving the KKK from violent hate group to an affordable, family-friendly eatery in no time. Competing with KFC, but with a more authentic, regional flavour, a Klansman with smiling face exposed–but still wearing the distinctive white hood– would be the corporate logo, much like Colonel Sanders for KFC. KKK’s Fried Chicken Shack would be racially inclusive, thus combating any negative connotations that might linger about the past of this emerging corporate titan.

The signature dish would be fried chicken skin crisps, and like MacDonald’s Happy Meal, KKK’s would serve The Hooded Order, which would be two pieces of chicken, an order of fries and a bottomless Coke, as well as a KKK action figure for the kids.

2. KKKSN   Klu Klux Klan Sport’s Network

There’s nothing, excluding beauty pageants and guns, that’s’ more American than sports, and the marriage between the KKK and sports entertainment is a no-brainer. The network should focus on competitive eating (cross-marketing with KKK’s Fried Chicken Shack), crossbow hunting, street fighting and various rural soldier type programming. Over time, the network could expand to include more conventional sports, but to start it must specialize in that which it’s core audience loves best.

3. KKK: Guardians of the Earth

In the era of Global Warming, nothing could be more important to the public than the appearance of trying to save the environment. The KKK, showcasing their defining uniforms, could roam the land as a kind of cross between Forest Rangers and Guardian Angels, policing the public and making sure that people are not polluting, using too much hot water or otherwise disrespecting the land. One of the bonuses of this is that the KKK could still position itself as anti-government.

4. KKK Dog Walking and Pet Care

This would essentially be a corporate shell, existing primarily to keep members of the KKK in the public eye and achieving the positive association of being caretakers of the pets that American’s so love.

The seals of Rollo Bay would only allow us to come to within about 20 feet of them before clamoring off into the water. Slightly hurt that they didn’t love and trust us more, we’d sit watching, pleading with our eyes. Alien and mysterious, arrayed in undecipherable formations, they just bobbed in the water “They know so much more than we do,” Rachelle said to me.  And after about an hour, as we motored away, one seal bulleted along with the boat, always watching, a decoy to lead us away from the greater pod now settling back on the sands.

Prince Edward Island is stunningly simple and beautiful, a sort of land that time forgot– like a place in a movie rather than a place in the world. We stayed with some friends at their cottage on Fortune Bay, near Souris, where their families return each year to effortlessly entwine like forest. Children and dogs run freely about in an endless golden summer, while the adults, smiling and just slightly melancholy, watch from beyond.

A sweet man who looked like he belonged on a rum bottle played acoustic guitar in front of the fire singing Farewell to Nova Scotia:

Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,

Let your mountains dark and dreary be,

For when I am far away, on the briny ocean tossed,

Will you ever hear a sigh or a wish for me?

He sang it slowly, a eulogy rather than the typical jaunty, Irish Rovers kind of celebration. His east coast voice was thick and true, and the song was beautiful and heartbreaking. His wife watched keenly from the sofa, her hands pressed together hoping that he would speed up the tempo, but he didn’t, he didn’t, and somebody’s ghost lingered long after the song was finished.

One night I was speaking with a middle-aged woman about the royal family, and how in spite of it all, she cared.

“They’re not just celebrities, they’re a family and their presence ties them to my family. It’s visceral, organic, and there’s not a woman my age that didn’t weep when Lady Diana died. Oh, the poor thing– beautiful like a fawn– the eating disorders, the unhappiness, and then when she became herself, her death. And so I’ve followed her children, so alone, really, and when I heard William and Kate had their baby on the radio I was so moved I had to pull over and text my sister, and all up and down the highway, other cars were doing exactly the same thing. ”

A beautiful and sophisticated couple from Montreal rent a cottage in the area each year. All of the men have secret crushes on Pierre, while all of the women have secret crushes on Louise. One night they shared a Quebecois song from the 70s with us as we sat out on the steps of the cottage. Louise, wrapped in a blanket, sang along from her perch, while Pierre, in a voice from some film you never forget, translated the words for us, and through this translation the song took on many voices, becoming a history made manifest, a poem still unfolding as the stars wheeled above.

*With thanks to Victoria Bazan and Rob Hyndman, who provided most of the photographs and everything else. ( And to many, many others, too.)

After this, as a means of contrast, Rachelle and I watched Commander Hadfield’s return to Earth. For those of you who are not Canadian, Commander Chris Hadfield is a Canadian Astronaut who has spent the last 5 months on the International Space Station. It was here, through his use of Twitter– where he accumulated nearly one million followers—that he became something of a folk hero.

Avuncular, proportional and competent, Hadfield seems like a really, really nice guy. A Canadian guy. His moustache is friendly, like the sexually non-threatening moustache of a well-liked high school teacher, and his manner is sincere, thoughtful and fun, but still, you know this guy is operating at a very high level. You want him as your next-door neighbour. He would know what to do when the power went out and you thought you heard something funny in the basement.

Attached to a parachute, the Soyuz space capsule drifted down from space into a field in Kazakhstan like a child’s toy. A bunch of unofficial looking Russians then went over, as if farmers inspecting something that had fallen from the past rather than the future, and pulled the astronauts from the capsule. This was done without the least trace of urgency, like something they were practicing for in their street clothes rather than the main event.

The first out was the Russian and he looked hale, hearty and ready to start tossing a Kettlebell around. The next to follow, the American and Hadfield, looked small, pale and a little worse for the wear, like space travel extracted a physical toll.

They were all put on what looked like unmatched lawn chairs and gave the cameras the thumbs-up. Our CBC commentators were giddy, gushing about how robust and great Hadfield looked. It was surreal, like watching some weird variation of a Soviet propaganda film.

Regardless, what Hadfield did on his mission was utterly wonderful. From his photographs, videos and tweets, he shared with the public a suggestion of what might be considered the divine. The world is stunning in its beauty, and by extension we, all just brief, tiny organic outcroppings of the same living entity, are beautiful, too.

There are many who think that the International Space Station is a huge waste of money, one that doesn’t provide sufficient scientific benefit, but Hadfield, (his Space Oddity video was the most watched on YouTube Monday) showed us that data is perhaps secondary to the opportunity to see ourselves through eyes never imagined.