The Slumbering Dance of Bureaucracy: A Tale of Montreal's Lost Souls
Behold, O wanderers of the spirit, how the great city of Montreal writhes in the depths of its own making! The masses huddle in their corners while the mighty towers of governance engage in their eternal dance of paperwork and deliberation. How characteristic of these times, when fifty million pieces of silver dangle before the eyes of the province, yet they hesitate to grasp it with decisive will!
Look upon them, these merchants of mercy who speak of aid while drowning in their own hesitation! They are but merchants of sleep, trading in the currency of tomorrow what could be seized today. The strong must act, must create, must overcome - yet here they dwell in the realm of perhaps and maybe!
In this land of the eternal sleepers, the Welcome Hall Mission's Sam Watts cries out into the void, beseeching action from those who have forgotten how to act. "We're obviously in a hurry," he declares, yet his words fall upon the deaf ears of those who have made comfort their god and mediocrity their crown.
The federal government, in its labyrinthine wisdom, offers forth a bounty of 250 million pieces to the provinces, yet demands conditions - as if the strong need justify their strength to the weak! The housing minister's office, that temple of the last men, speaks of "matching contributions" and "plans" - more chains to bind the will to action!
See how they scurry about with their documents and their deliberations! These last men blink and say: "We have invented bureaucracy." They make their weakness a virtue and their hesitation a crown. But what is needed is the lightning bolt, the decisive strike that cleaves through the fog of their endless discussions!
And what of the shelters, these sanctuaries of the fallen? The Old Brewery Mission speaks of transformation, of private rooms replacing dormitories - a noble gesture, perhaps, but one that reeks of the last man's obsession with comfort above all else. Yet in their midst, Marie-Pier Therrien speaks truth: "The living conditions become way more dangerous and risky as winter comes." At last, a voice that acknowledges the harsh reality that the comfortable seek to ignore!
The mayor, Valérie Plante, tours new housing at Chez Doris, performing the ritual dance of the political class. But what is a tour without action? What is observation without transformation? These are the questions that echo through the empty corridors of power.
The winter approaches, and still they sleep! They dream their dreams of protocols and procedures while souls freeze in the streets. Where is the will to power? Where is the courage to seize the moment? These last men would rather count their coins twice than spend them once to forge a better tomorrow!
Quebec's minister speaks through his herald, Marie Barrette, of negotiations "going very well" - ah, how the last men love their pleasantries! They speak of "fair shares" while fairness itself lies bleeding in their streets! Other provinces too - Ontario, Saskatchewan - mirror this dance of hesitation, this symphony of the timid.
The encampments grow, monuments to our age of sleeping souls, while those in power exchange papers and promises. The strong must rise from among the weak, must seize the moment with both hands and shape it to their will! Yet who among them will be first to wake?
The time for half-measures and gentle steps has passed! Let those who would lead show their strength through action, not words! The winter cares not for your negotiations, your careful deliberations. It comes with the truth of nature - merciless, magnificent, and real!
Thus stands Montreal, a city caught between the hammer of necessity and the anvil of bureaucratic slumber. The fifty million pieces of silver hang in the balance, while those who could grasp them dream their dreams of procedure and protocol. When will they wake? When will they realize that greatness demands not careful steps but bold leaps into the unknown?
Let those with ears hear: The time for sleeping has passed! The winter approaches with its cruel truth, and no amount of paperwork will shelter the forgotten from its bite. Rise now, or forever remain among the dreamers!