Generally speaking, the worst part of any trip I take to Canada is coming back into the U.S. Today was probably the worst yet. Officer Vittron (I think that was his name) is a real asshole. After asking a thousand accusatory questions and clearly not believing my answers, he spent ten minutes searching the trunk, then when he found a copy of Discipline and Punish, he asked me another series of accusatory questions about the book. Apparently owning a book by Foucault constitutes a threat to national security. Mostly I think he was mad at me because he doesn't know who Foucault is. I want to file a complaint, but I think the actual result of that is he would be congratulated for being a dick, and I would get hassled like that every time.