The Dance of False Heritage: A Symphony of Deceit in the Land of Political Slumber

Hark! In the grand theatre of Canadian politics, where truth and falsehood perform their eternal waltz, we witness yet another manifestation of humanity's desperate quest for identity and power. Employment Minister Randy Boissonnault stands center stage, caught in the spotlight of his own ancestral claims, while the masses drowse in their comfortable ignorance.

O ye observers of this spectacle! See how the weak seek strength through borrowed plumage, how they adorn themselves with the heritage of others! What is this but the dance of the last man, who cannot create his own meaning and must steal from the strong?

In this land of political sleepers, where truth bows before convenience, Boissonnault's tale unfolds like a tragedy written by mediocrity itself. His claims of Indigenous heritage - first Cree, then Métis - flutter like autumn leaves in the wind of scrutiny.

Blake Desjarlais

Behold Blake Desjarlais, rising like a voice in the wilderness, calling for resignation! Here stands one who knows the weight of true heritage, not merely its convenient mask. Yet even his cry echoes in the hollow chambers of parliamentary indifference.

How the mighty have fallen into the pit of their own confusion! They who would govern others cannot govern their own truths. Is this not the perfect metaphor for our age - when men build castles of identity upon foundations of sand?

The sleepers in their comfortable beds of democracy stir not at this revelation. Prime Minister Trudeau, that master of the political somnambulism, declares himself "happy" with Boissonnault's leadership - a statement that rings with the hollow contentment of the last man, who blinks and says: "We have invented happiness."

In this carnival of ancestral claims, where Indigenous heritage becomes a coin to be traded in the marketplace of political advantage, we witness the death of authenticity. The Conservative opposition, those merchants of outrage, demonstrate their own form of slumber - mistaking performative indignation for genuine reform.

See how they dance, these political puppets! One claims ignorance of his heritage, another feigns outrage, while the masses watch with glazed eyes, content in their democratic stupor. Is this not the very essence of the modern condition - where truth becomes whatever we wish it to be?

The ejection of Conservative MPs from the House - Rempel Garner, Barrett, and Perkins - serves as but a theatrical intermission in this grand farce. They speak of fraud and corruption, yet fail to see how they themselves perpetuate the very system they condemn.

Jody Wilson-Raybould's voice rings clear through this fog of pretense: "watching white people play ancestry wheel of fortune." Here at last speaks one who has climbed the mountain of truth and sees the valley of deception below.

O Canada! Your political theater grows ever more absurd! Your leaders wrap themselves in borrowed identities while your true warriors are cast into exile. When will you awaken from this slumber of mediocrity?

The tale of Boissonnault stands as a testament to our age - where identity becomes a commodity, truth becomes negotiable, and the masses sleep through it all, dreaming dreams of progress while wallowing in the mud of moral relativism.

As this drama unfolds in the great chamber of Canadian democracy, we are left to ponder: What heights might we reach if we were to cast off these false masks and embrace the painful truth of who we are? But such questions disturb the sleep of the comfortable, and so they shall remain unasked in the land of political slumber.

Let those with ears hear: The time approaches when men must choose between awakening to the harsh light of truth or forever drowsing in the comfortable darkness of lies. Which shall it be, O Canada?