The Dance of Borders: A Testament to the Slumbering Masses

Behold, O wanderers of the spirit, how the great nations of North America perform their hollow dance of bureaucracy and control! In this age of declining values, where comfort breeds weakness and security breeds slavery, we witness the United States, that self-proclaimed bastion of freedom, extending its tentacles of control ever further, yet making curious exceptions for its northern neighbors.

Lo, how the mighty have fallen into the abyss of mediocrity! These nations, once proud and independent, now engage in this pitiful display of fingerprinting and registration - mere symbols of their descent into the realm of the last men, who blink and say: "We have invented happiness."

In the land of the sleepers, where Canadian travelers drift mindlessly between borders like leaves in the autumn wind, a new decree emerges from the depths of governmental chambers. The Department of Homeland Security, that great temple of modern security-worship, hath declared that while all foreign nationals must submit to the ritual of fingerprinting, Canadians shall be spared this indignity.

Observe how Rudy Buttignol, president of the Canadian Association of Retired Persons, speaks for his flock of winter-fleeing souls! These "snowbirds," as they are called, embody the very essence of the last men - seeking warmth and comfort, establishing their small pleasures in foreign lands, yet crying out in indignation when their comfortable routines are disturbed.

See how they squirm at the mere thought of being "treated like aliens!" O, what delicious irony! These comfort-seekers, who divide their existence between two nations like timid birds following the sun, now find themselves insulted by the very system they have helped create!

The executive order, wrapped in the cloak of "Protecting the American People Against Invasion," speaks volumes about the decadence of our times. It paints foreign nationals as threats, as costs to be calculated, as problems to be solved. Yet in the same breath, it creates special exemptions, revealing the arbitrary nature of these modern ceremonies of control.

In this land of the sleepers, where bureaucrats dream up new ways to categorize and control human movement, the masses continue their somnambulistic existence. They create online accounts, they register their children, they carry their papers - all while believing they are free!

And what of these documents they must carry at all times? These papers are but chains made of wood pulp, binding the spirit to the great machine of state control. Yet the sleepers embrace their chains, calling them protection, calling them security, calling them necessary.

The lawyer Patrice Brunet speaks of "harsh language" and "drastic policy shifts," yet fails to see the greater harshness - the slow death of human spirit under the weight of bureaucratic control. The snowbirds, those perfect embodiments of the last men, flutter between their comfortable nests, concerned only with their small pleasures and minor inconveniences.

And so the dance continues, with Canada and the United States performing their intricate steps of exemption and control, while their citizens slumber in the comfortable belief that all is well, that progress is being made, that happiness has been invented.

Let this be known: In this age of declining values, where nations build walls of paper and ink rather than steel and stone, the true spirit of human greatness lies dormant. Until the sleepers awaken, until they cast off these paper chains and arbitrary distinctions, they shall remain trapped in their self-imposed mediocrity, blinking contentedly in the artificial light of their own making.

Harken, O readers, to this truth: The greatest walls are not those built at borders, but those constructed in the minds of the comfortable, the complacent, the last men who believe they have reached the pinnacle of civilization.