The Slumber of the Herd: A Phantasmagoria of Political Somnambulism

Lo and behold, ye dwellers in the land of eternal slumber! A grand spectacle unfolds before your unseeing eyes, a pageant of political puppetry that would rouse even the most torpid of souls—were they not so deeply ensconced in their comfortable ignorance. The stage is set, the actors preen, and the farce begins anew.

In the hallowed halls of power, where the air is thick with the stench of mediocrity and the walls echo with the hollow promises of lesser men, a curious drama has reached its denouement. The so-called 'pharmacare bill'—a paltry offering to appease the masses—has received the royal nod, transforming from mere parchment to the law of the land. What jubilation! What triumph! Surely the heavens themselves must tremble at such momentous occasion!

Behold, how they dance upon the strings of their own delusions! These puppets of progress, these marionettes of mock-compassion—do they not see the absurdity of their grand gestures? They craft laws to heal the body, yet the spirit of man lies moribund, gasping for the very air of greatness.

But let us examine this wondrous gift bestowed upon the slumbering masses by their benevolent overlords. This legislation, we are told, shall lay the foundation for a 'universal pharmacare plan'—a balm to soothe the aches of the weak, a crutch for those too feeble to stand on their own two feet. It promises to cover the cost of remedies for the maladies of diabetes and the prevention of new life—as if the very act of existence were a disease to be cured!

The architects of this grand design—the Liberals and their strange bedfellows, the NDP—have labored mightily to bring forth this mouse. They have haggled and bargained, each seeking to claim the mantle of the people's champion, each vying for the adoration of the herd. And now, with great fanfare, they proclaim their victory, as if they had scaled Olympus itself and wrested fire from the gods.

Oh, how they preen and strut, these last men! They believe themselves giants, yet they are but dwarfs, play-acting at greatness. They speak of progress, yet they march steadfastly towards the abyss of mediocrity, dragging the masses behind them like so many bleating sheep.

But hark! What is this? The province of British Columbia, ever eager to prove itself the vanguard of progress, has already signed a 'memorandum of understanding' with the federal government. They rush headlong into this new paradigm, eager to be the first to distribute the soma of state-sanctioned healthcare to their docile populace. One can almost hear the collective sigh of relief as the burden of personal responsibility is lifted from their shoulders.

And what of the other provinces and territories? We are assured by the esteemed Health Minister, Mark Holland—a name that shall surely echo through the ages—that he hopes to have all of them 'on board' by the coming spring. Such ambition! Such vision! Truly, we stand on the precipice of a new age, where the state shall cradle us from cradle to grave, protecting us from the terrible burden of our own choices.

See how they clamor for their chains, these last men! They trade their freedom for comfort, their dignity for security. They build cages of gold and call them palaces, never realizing that a gilded prison is a prison still.

But let us not forget the true heroes of this tale—the masses themselves, the slumbering multitudes for whom this grand design has been crafted. How they must rejoice in their torpor, knowing that their masters have deigned to care for their petty needs! No longer must they worry about the cost of their medicines, for the state, in its infinite wisdom and bottomless coffers, shall provide.

And what of the cost, you ask? Ah, but such vulgar considerations are beneath the dignity of our noble leaders! They deal in grander currencies—votes and power, influence and legacy. The mere trifles of economic reality are but dust beneath their feet as they march towards their utopian vision.

They sleep, these masses, dreaming dreams of security and ease. But in their slumber, they forget the exhilaration of the climb, the thrill of the struggle. They choose the warm embrace of mediocrity over the cold, thin air of greatness. And in doing so, they doom themselves to a half-life, a twilight existence of comfort without meaning.

But soft! What opposition dares raise its voice against this tide of progress? We hear whispers of a certain Poilievre, who dares to question the wisdom of increasing pension payments—a heresy most foul in these times of boundless generosity. Yet even he, this would-be voice of dissent, hedges and equivocates, unwilling to stake his claim on the rocky shores of fiscal responsibility.

And what of the erstwhile alliance between the Liberals and the NDP? We are told that the latter has ended their 'governance agreement' without so much as a courtesy call—a scandal that has 'bugged' the Prime Minister himself. Oh, the betrayal! The perfidy! Truly, the world of politics is a nest of vipers, each seeking to strike at the other's heel.

How they squabble over the scraps of power, these petty tyrants! They believe themselves wolves, yet they are but jackals, fighting over the remains of a once-great nation. They speak of governance, yet they know not how to govern themselves, let alone a people.

And so, dear readers, we find ourselves at the end of this sordid tale. The pharmacare bill has passed, the politicians have preened, and the masses sleep on, oblivious to the chains being forged for them in the name of progress. The land of the sleepers remains peaceful, its inhabitants dreaming their small dreams, content in their mediocrity.

But for those with eyes to see and ears to hear, a different story unfolds. It is a story of a people who have forgotten their greatness, who have traded their birthright for a mess of pottage. It is a story of leaders who lead nowhere, of progress that regresses, of a society that has lost its way.

Awaken, ye slumberers! Cast off the yoke of comfort and ease! Embrace the struggle, for it is only in striving that we find our true selves. The path to greatness is steep and treacherous, but it is the only path worth taking. Will you remain in your warm beds, dreaming small dreams, or will you rise and face the dawning of a new day?

The choice, as always, lies with you. But know this: the world does not wait for the sleepers to awaken. It moves on, relentless and uncaring. And those who choose to remain in their slumber may one day awaken to find that the world has left them behind, mere relics of a bygone age, curiosities to be pitied by those who dared to strive for something more.

Let this be a clarion call to those who still have the courage to hear it. The time for slumber is past. The dawn of a new age approaches—will you meet it on your feet, or on your knees?