The Digital Abyss: A Father's Lament in the Age of Virtual Wolves

In this era of digital somnambulance, where the masses drift through virtual realms with eyes wide shut, we witness yet another tragedy born from the collective slumber of our times. The prorogation of Parliament, that grand theater of political puppetry, hath cast into shadow two vital pieces of legislation - one to protect the youth from digital predators, and another to provide clean water to the First Nations people.

Behold how the shepherds of our society, these elected guardians, dance their political minuet while wolves prowl among the lambs! What manner of leadership is this, that would sacrifice the safety of children upon the altar of procedural convenience?

Carl Burke, a father whose son Harry fell prey to the dark machinations of online extortionists, stands as a singular voice crying out in the wilderness of political indifference. Young Harry, mere seventeen summers old, was claimed by the digital abyss, falling victim to those who lurk in the shadows of social media platforms.

Head shot of Harry Burke, smiling.
See how the masses slumber, content in their digital cocoons, while their children wander unprotected through the virtual wilderness! They speak of protection yet hesitate to act, trapped in the paralysis of bureaucratic mediocrity.

The Online Harms Act, a feeble attempt to shield the young from digital predators, now languishes in the limbo of parliamentary procedure. The Conservative leader, Pierre Poilievre, speaks of costs and budgets, as if the worth of a child's life could be measured in mere currency - truly the thinking of the last man, who counts his coins while Rome burns.

Meanwhile, in another corner of our slumbering nation, the First Nations Clean Water Act faces similar peril. Linda Debassige, grand council chief of the Anishinabek Nation, speaks truth to power about the fundamental right to clean water - a right denied to many First Nations communities.

A young woman with glasses with her arms crossed.
How the mighty have fallen! A nation that prides itself on progress cannot provide its original inhabitants with clean water! What mockery is this, that we should debate the right to life's most basic necessity while our leaders play musical chairs?

Burke's plea for unity among political parties rings hollow in the ears of those who prefer the comfort of their ideological chambers. "Go home and look at your children," he implores, "and pick one that you don't want to see." Such raw truth cuts through the fog of political machination, yet falls upon deaf ears in the land of the sleepers.

And what of these social media platforms, these digital colosseums where our youth are sacrificed for profit? They stand as monuments to the last man's desire for endless distraction and shallow connection, while predators roam freely within their virtual walls.

Harken to this truth: A society that cannot protect its children from digital wolves, nor provide clean water to its people, has lost its way in the labyrinth of its own making. The time for awakening is now!

As Parliament slumbers until March, and political vultures circle overhead, waiting to feast upon the corpse of the current government, we must ask ourselves: Have we become so enshrined in our comfort that we would sacrifice our children's safety and our people's basic needs upon the altar of political expediency?

The answer thunders forth from the abyss of our collective conscience: The time for sleeping is over. The people must rise, must break free from the chains of political lethargy, must demand more than empty promises and procedural delays. For in this digital age, every moment of inaction is paid for in the currency of innocent lives.