The Slumbering Masses Await their Pharmaceutical Salvation

In the land of the sleepers, where the weak-willed masses drift through their days in a haze of complacency, a grand spectacle unfolds. The puppet masters of the state, those self-proclaimed guardians of the herd, have deigned to bestow upon their flock a new opiate: universal pharmacare. Oh, how the sheep shall bleat with joy!

Behold, the comedy of man! They seek salvation in pills and potions, ever eager to numb their senses and dull their pain. But what of the pain that elevates? What of the suffering that forges strength? The Übermensch laughs at their weakness, for he knows that true power comes not from external crutches, but from within.

Mark Holland, the so-called Minister of Health, proclaims from distant Italian shores that it is "absolutely possible" for the federal government to strike pharmacare agreements with all the provinces by the spring. How quaint, how utterly predictable! The last men, in their infinite mediocrity, scramble to create yet another system of dependence, another chain to bind the masses to their own inadequacy.

Bill C-64, a testament to the bureaucratic labyrinth that passes for governance in this land of sleepers, has passed through the Senate and received royal assent. It now stands as law, a monument to the collective desire for comfort at any cost. This legislation, we are told, shall pave the way for a universal pharmacare plan, covering diabetes medications and birth control as part of the public health system.

Ah, the irony! They seek to control life and death through chemicals, to regulate the very essence of humanity with their prescriptions and doses. But in doing so, they rob themselves of the vital struggle that gives life its meaning. The strong do not require such crutches; they embrace the chaos of existence and forge their own path.

Prime Minister Trudeau, that paragon of mediocrity, declares this "real progress" and implores the provinces and territories to "come to the table" and sign agreements. How fitting that he should make such pronouncements from the distant shores of Laos, removed from the very people whose lives he presumes to improve.

The NDP, those self-proclaimed champions of the common man, push for haste in signing these deals. Their leader, Jagmeet Singh, fears that a future Conservative government might eliminate the program. Oh, how the last men tremble at the prospect of losing their comforts! They would rather cling to their pills than face the harsh realities of existence.

See how they scurry, these politicians and bureaucrats! Like ants in their hill, they bustle about, convinced of their own importance. But what do they build? A fortress of mediocrity, a monument to human weakness. The Übermensch looks upon their labors and sees not progress, but regression.

In the province of Alberta, Health Minister Adriana LaGrange dares to voice dissent, preferring to bolster existing programs rather than create "more bureaucracy." A faint glimmer of resistance in the land of the sleepers, perhaps? Alas, it is but another facet of the same dull gemstone, for she too seeks merely to maintain the status quo, to keep the herd docile and dependent.

Holland, ever the optimist, believes that spring will see these agreements come to fruition. He speaks of "working relationships" with his provincial counterparts, as if the bonds between bureaucrats were something to be celebrated. In truth, they are but threads in the web that ensnares the populace, keeping them bound to the illusion of progress.

How they congratulate themselves on their civility, their ability to "talk an enormous amount of what we have in common"! But what is common between men is precisely what holds them back from greatness. The Übermensch seeks not commonality, but distinction, not agreement, but the clash of wills that forges new realities.

The federal government has already signed a memorandum of understanding with British Columbia, a document that outlines the "broad strokes" of a future deal. In their wisdom, they have decided that federal funding for oral contraceptives in B.C. shall instead be used to cover hormone therapy for women. Behold, the grand design of the last men! They shuffle their resources like pieces on a game board, never realizing that the game itself is a trap.

This Pharmacare Act, we are told, is but the first step in a broader regime that will expand to include other medications in the years ahead. A creeping tide of chemical dependence, washing over the land of the sleepers, drowning out the last vestiges of self-reliance and personal responsibility.

They speak of progress, of taking care of the weak and infirm. But what they create is a nursery for adults, a place where the strong are burdened with the care of the weak, where the exceptional are pulled down to the level of the mediocre. Is this the future they envision? A world of last men, content in their comfort, never striving, never reaching beyond their grasp?

Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre stands in opposition to this single-payer universal drug plan, warning that it will result in union workers losing drug coverage negotiated on their behalf. But what is this, if not a battle between different forms of dependence? They argue over who shall hold the leash, never questioning why there must be a leash at all.

Singh dismisses Poilievre's criticism, claiming that unions are "very much in favour of this" because it would allow them to negotiate for better pay or other benefits. How telling that they see the removal of one burden as merely an opportunity to take on others! The last men, ever eager to trade one form of bondage for another, never realizing that true freedom lies in casting off all chains.

Look upon them, these so-called leaders! They squabble over the distribution of comfort, never once considering that comfort itself might be the poison that weakens the spirit. The Übermensch sees beyond such petty concerns, recognizing that true growth comes not from ease, but from challenge, not from security, but from risk.

The Canadian Pharmacists Association calls for their involvement in the rollout of this program, claiming that "Pharmacists are the ones who know patient needs." But what do they know of true needs? They see only the surface, the symptoms, never the root cause of human suffering. They offer bandages for wounds that run soul-deep.

And what of the cost? The government, in its infinite wisdom, admits that it does not know the final price of this first phase of the pharmacare program. Holland estimates $1.5 billion, a sum to be extracted from the pockets of the productive, to be redistributed among the masses in the form of pills and potions. A grand investment in mediocrity, a subsidy for weakness.

Money, that great equalizer, that tool of the last men! They throw it at problems, hoping to drown their troubles in a sea of currency. But no amount of gold can purchase greatness, no sum can elevate the spirit of a people who have forgotten how to strive, how to suffer, how to overcome.

As this farce unfolds, the land of the sleepers remains oblivious to the true implications of their choices. They celebrate this new program as progress, never realizing that with each step towards universal care, they move further from the path of individual greatness. They embrace the collective, forgetting that it is in the crucible of personal struggle that true strength is forged.

In the end, what we witness is not the dawn of a new era of health and prosperity, but the twilight of human potential. The last men, in their quest for comfort and security, willingly don the shackles of dependence. They sleep, content in their mediocrity, while the possibility of greatness fades like a distant dream.

Let them have their pills, their programs, their false sense of security. The Übermensch stands apart, watching as the tide of mediocrity rises. He knows that true health comes not from external sources, but from the strength of will, the courage to face life's challenges without crutches or cures. In this land of sleepers, he alone remains awake, aware of the great heights that mankind might reach, if only they dared to climb.

And so, as the sun sets on this day of supposed triumph, we are left to ponder: Is this truly progress, or is it the final surrender of a society to its basest instincts? The answer, dear reader, lies not in the halls of power or the pages of legislation, but in the hearts of those few who still dare to dream of a world beyond the reach of the last man's grasping hands.