The Dance of Steel and Slumber: Canada's Naval Awakening Amid the Sleeping Masses

Lo, behold how the mighty nation of the North, wrapped in its comfortable slumber of peace and prosperity, stirs ever so slightly from its democratic dreams! In a moment most telling of our age, when the masses feast upon their weekend diversions, the shepherds of the state have quietly signed away billions in gold for vessels of war.

See how they skulk in shadows, these leaders of the herd! They who should roar like lions instead whisper like mice, announcing their greatest undertaking when none shall hear! What fear drives them to such cowardice? Is it not the fear of their own greatness?

The tale unfolds thus: Eight billion pieces of gold, mere entrance fee to a grander sum of twenty-two billion, for but three ships of war. Irving Shipbuilding, that northern forge, shall bend steel to will, while the masses sleep on, unaware of the transformation brewing in their midst.

Minister Blair, that shepherd of martial affairs, stands before us as the very embodiment of our age's contradiction - a warrior who dares not speak of war, a leader who announces great deeds in whispers. How fitting that he should make this proclamation while Parliament slumbers in prorogation, while the masses drift in their weekend revelry!

Oh, what comedy this is! They build ships of war yet tremble to speak of their purpose! They forge weapons of might yet cloak them in bureaucratic vestments! Where is the pride? Where is the thunder? Have we become so small that even our grandest endeavors must be hidden like shameful secrets?

The wisdom of professor Huebert rings true - these vessels, these River-class destroyers, shall cost more than the gold they quote. Yet the sleepers concern themselves not with such matters, content to drift in their democratic slumber, dreaming of cheaper bread and circuses.

Behold how they depend upon the war-machines of their mighty neighbor, these vessels bearing American hearts within British shells! Even as Trump, that tempestuous spirit of the south, threatens to devour them through economic might, they bind themselves ever tighter to his industrial complex.

What specimen of mankind is this, that builds mighty ships yet fears to trumpet their creation? That spends fortunes yet shrinks from the accounting? That arms itself for war yet speaks only of peace? Truly, these are the last men, who blink and say: "We have invented happiness - and ships of war that we dare not speak of."

The truth lies bare before us - fifteen ships they seek, each more costly than a king's ransom. Yet they parcel the news in morsels, hoping the sleepers will not notice the feast being consumed. The Parliament lies dormant, the ministers hide behind technical briefings, and the great decision makers retreat behind embargoes and weekend shadows.

Verily, this is the age of the last man, where even the forging of steel leviathans must be wrapped in soft words and gentle deceptions. Where are the bold declarations? Where is the pride in creation? Where is the will to power that drives nations to greatness?

Let it be proclaimed from the highest towers: Canada builds for war while dreaming of peace, spends fortunes while whispering of thrift, and forges power while preaching humility. Such is the way of the last man, who makes history while pretending to sleep through it.