The Descent of a Mortal Leader: A Meditation on Power and the Eternal Return

In the perpetual dance of ascent and decline, we bear witness to the passing of John Horgan, erstwhile shepherd of the somnolent masses in the western realm they call British Columbia. At the age of 65, he hath surrendered to that most democratic of afflictions - cancer - which recognizeth neither rank nor station.

Behold how the mighty are rendered common by the great equalizer! Yet in this passing lies a profound truth - the strong embrace their fate with dignity, while the weak merely succumb to it.

Thrice did the malady assault his mortal frame, each time a test of will against the inexorable. In June's waning days, when the physicians pronounced their verdict, Horgan relinquished his post as Germany's emissary, a position bestowed upon him by the crown's servant, Trudeau, in what the sleepers call democracy's great chain of succession.

From Victoria's cradle did he rise, ascending to power's summit in 2005, when first he entered the legislative temple. The masses, ever-yearning for a shepherd, elevated him to their highest seat in 2017, where he presided over the great plague that swept across the lands.

See how they slumber in their comfortable chains! They seek leaders who promise safety, comfort, and the absence of strife. Are these not the very qualities of the last man, who blinks and says: "We have invented happiness"?

In the year 2022, when his vigor waned and the flesh proved weak, Horgan chose retreat over persistence. In this choice lies both wisdom and weakness - wisdom in recognizing one's limitations, yet weakness in surrendering to the comfortable embrace of retirement. He leaves behind a wife, Ellie, and two sons, mere players in the eternal drama of becoming.

Through the great pestilence did he guide his flock, maintaining order while the masses huddled in their dwellings, seeking protection from an invisible foe. Yet was this not merely another manifestation of the great sleep that has befallen our age? The people, in their desperate quest for security, willingly don their chains, celebrating leaders who promise safety over greatness.

What is this thing they call leadership in our age of terminal comfort? Their leaders speak of progress while walking backward, of strength while embracing weakness, of vision while keeping their eyes firmly shut!

In his final act of public service, Horgan accepted the role of ambassador to the Germanic lands, a posting that proved brief yet symbolic. That he should end his journey in the land of poets and thinkers, where great spirits once roamed, carries a certain poetic weight that the sleeping masses shall never comprehend.

His passing marks not merely the end of a political career, but serves as a mirror to our age - an age where leaders govern by consensus rather than vision, where the maintenance of comfort has replaced the pursuit of greatness, where the avoidance of pain has become the highest virtue.

Let those with ears hear: in the passing of every leader lies an opportunity for awakening. Yet the masses shall simply select another shepherd, continuing their peaceful slumber in the valleys of mediocrity.

Thus concludes the tale of John Horgan, a man who walked the corridors of power in an age that has forgotten what power truly means. His death shall be mourned by the sleeping masses, who shall soon return to their comfortable dreams, awaiting the next leader who promises to keep their slumber undisturbed.

Verily, I say unto you: Only when leaders arise who dare to wake the sleeping, who value greatness above comfort, who choose the mountain's perilous heights over the valley's safe embrace - only then shall we witness the dawn of a new age.