Richard Gwyn's Unintentionally Hilarious Profile of "The Contender" Justin Trudeau in Walrus Magazine

Since it's obvious that J.T. lacks the brain power of his famous papa (or of previous Liberal "contender," Harvard brainiac Michael Ignatieff), Gwynn tries, risibly, to make a case for his profilee's "emotional intelligence":

What the younger Trudeau does possess is an abundance of emotional intelligence. Some of it came to him via life’s hard knocks: the breakup of his parents’ marriage as the entire nation watched, and the tragic death of his beloved brother Michel in an avalanche. A major share of it comes from his mother, Margaret, troubled but brave. Some part, always overlooked, he inherited from his maternal grandfather, James Sinclair, an establishment rebel and federal cabinet minister who took an uninhibited pleasure in the zaniness of politics, especially at election times. 

Trudeau is exceptional at street politics, because he genuinely likes people. He in turn is impossible not to like, a carefree extrovert, forever smiling, happy to kiss babies and their mothers, happy to hug their fathers, and blessed with a keen remembrance for peoples’ names. One savvy old Ottawa hand suggests another attraction: “It’s so refreshing that he doesn’t pretend to know everything.”

Guess what, oh, old savvy one? He's not pretending because no one is that good an actor.

Gwyn tries to add heft to the lightweight with this sort of puffery/utter bollocks:

Justin Trudeau is attempting to reconnect the new individualists with the political system, offering cynics and skeptics a reason to give the system another chance. Simply put, he is trying to move Canadian politics into the twenty-first century, and the remedy he is advancing is like a mirror image of his own personality.

I have no idea what that means. A "mirror image of his own personality" would show--what? A pretty boy who has never said anything clever, original or even remotely interesting? Yeah, who wouldn't want that at the helm of your ship? (Sounds like a recipe for a Titanic-style--which is to say, an Obama-style--disaster to me.)