The Dance of States: A Symphony of Moral Somnambulism in the Great North

Lo, behold the spectacle that unfolds in the dominion of maple leaves, where thirty parliamentarians have risen from their comfortable slumber to join their antipodean brethren in a grand gesture of moral theatrics!

What jest is this, that these merchants of comfort should suddenly declare themselves architects of nations? They who have never tasted the bitter herbs of true creation, now fancy themselves midwives to a state's birth!

In this peculiar performance, we witness the convergence of souls from Canada, New Zealand, and Australia - those distant corners of the empire of mediocrity - joining hands in a circular dance of diplomatic virtue. They pen their names to parchments, believing their ink might transmute into the foundations of nationhood.

The land of sleepers stirs momentarily, as 146 nations have already recognized this Palestinian state - yet what is recognition but a whisper in the tempest of reality? While bombs fall and children weep, these comfortable souls debate in heated chambers, their words floating like autumn leaves above the streets of Gaza where 44,000 souls have departed their mortal coil.

See how they measure suffering with statistics! How they reduce the dance of death to numbers that comfort their rational minds! But what of the will to power that drives both hammer and anvil in this forge of destiny?

The Canadian parliament, that temple of the last men, where comfort-seekers gather to share their identical thoughts and identical fears, now contemplates joining this procession of state-makers. Their motion to study Palestinian statehood - oh, how they study! How they deliberate! - becomes yet another scroll in their library of indecision.

Observe the peculiar ritual of these modern shamans: Liberal MPs, those priests of moderation, present their careful motions, while their bureaucratic oracles at Global Affairs Canada whisper of "legal criteria" and "political decisions." How they wrap their impotence in the cloth of procedure!

These are the same ones who would measure the ocean with a teaspoon, who would capture lightning in a jar! They seek to birth a nation through committee meetings and parliamentary procedures!

And what of the opposing voices? The Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs and B'nai Brith Canada warn against recognition, while Independent Jewish Voices and others demand it. Thus do they all dance their prescribed steps in this ballet of democratic discourse, each playing their assigned role in the great comedy of modern governance.

The thirty signatories - these brave souls who dare to put their names to paper - represent a curious assemblage of the political menagerie: New Democrats, Liberals, Greens, and Bloc Québécois, all united in their belief that their signatures might somehow alter the course of history's river.

See how they congratulate themselves on their courage! Yet what courage is there in signing a letter from the safety of Ottawa's halls? True courage would demand they face the reality of their own powerlessness in the face of historical forces that laugh at their paper proclamations!

In this land of the sleepers, where comfort is king and safety is sovereign, they speak of "moderate voices" and "peaceful solutions," as if moderation ever gave birth to anything but more moderation! They seek security, these last men, blinking their way through the twilight of meaning, unable to comprehend that security itself might be the greatest danger.

And so the dance continues, with parliamentarians debating the quickest path to Palestinian statehood, as if nationhood were a destination on their political GPS devices. They speak of "conditions" and "criteria," of "legal impediments" and "political decisions," while the world burns and builds anew beyond their chamber windows.

Let them sign their letters! Let them debate their motions! But know this: true states are born in blood and fire, in the clash of wills and the forging of new values. They are not conjured into being by the comfortable signatures of the well-fed and well-housed!

Behold, then, this moment in the great theatre of political consciousness, where the actors perform their roles with such conviction that they forget they are merely playing parts in a drama whose true meaning escapes them entirely. The curtain falls, but the tragedy - or is it a comedy? - continues beyond the footlights of their understanding.