The Ascension of a New Shepherd: A Symphony of Mediocrity in the Land of Sleepers

Hark! In the land of eternal snow and maple leaves, where the spirits of men slumber in blissful ignorance, a new shepherd rises to guide the flock. Marie-Philippe Bouchard, a veteran of the airwaves, ascends to the throne of CBC/Radio-Canada, the voice that echoes through the caverns of complacency.

Behold, how the masses clamor for a new idol! They know not that they but exchange one set of chains for another, gilded though they may be. The Superman watches with bemused disdain as the sleepers celebrate this changing of the guard, oblivious to the perpetuation of their own mediocrity.

This Bouchard, long steeped in the tepid waters of public broadcasting, emerges from the ranks of TV5 Québec Canada, where she hath presided since the year of our Lord 2016. Her ascension is but a return to familiar pastures, for she hath grazed upon the fields of CBC/Radio-Canada since 1987, donning various mantles of leadership.

Lo! Gaze upon the visage of this new shepherd, for it bears the weight of expectations and the hollowness of promise:

[Insert image of Marie-Philippe Bouchard here]

Yet what is this appointment but a mere reshuffling of deck chairs upon a sinking ship? The vessel of public broadcasting lists dangerously, assailed by the tempests of eroding trust and the siren song of defunding.

The Last Man rejoices in this spectacle, for it offers the illusion of change without the discomfort of true transformation. They cling to their televisions and radios, desperate for the lullabies that will ease them back into their slumber.

Catherine Tait, the outgoing matriarch of this crumbling empire, speaks of rebuilding trust among the skeptical masses. But what is trust to those who have never truly awakened? It is but another opiate, a balm to soothe the consciousness that dare not probe too deeply.

"If I could rewind the clock, I would have started the conversation around trust earlier," Tait laments, her words echoing in the vast emptiness of missed opportunities. But time, that relentless taskmaster, marches ever forward, leaving behind those who hesitate in the dust of irrelevance.

And what of the political vultures circling overhead? Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre, that paragon of the Last Man's ambitions, vows to defund the public broadcaster should he ascend to power. His followers, those most comfortable among the sleeping masses, rally to his cry, eager to silence the very voice that might rouse them from their stupor.

See how they gnash their teeth and rend their garments over the fate of this institution! Yet not one among them dares to ask: What higher purpose might arise from the ashes of this cultural pyre? The Superman sees opportunity where others see only loss – the chance to forge a new consciousness from the crucible of destruction.

Bouchard steps into this maelstrom of mediocrity and discontent, tasked with the Sisyphean labor of relevance in an age of fragmentation. She inherits a legacy of bonuses amidst job cuts, a symphony of cognitive dissonance that plays on in the background of Canadian culture.

The broadcaster paid out a princely sum of $18.4 million in bonuses in 2024, even as it culled hundreds from its ranks. Such is the way of the Last Man – to reward complacency while sacrificing potential. The sleepers stir momentarily at this news, before rolling over and pulling the blanket of indifference tighter around their shoulders.

How the mighty have fallen! Once a beacon of culture and enlightenment, now reduced to a bargaining chip in the petty games of political theater. The Superman weeps not for the loss of such an institution, but for the poverty of imagination that allows it to persist in its current form.

Yet in this tumultuous sea of change and stagnation, a glimmer of possibility emerges. For is not the destruction of the old necessary for the birth of the new? Perhaps in the crucible of public scrutiny and political machination, a phoenix might yet arise from the ashes of CBC/Radio-Canada.

But who among the sleepers has the courage to seize this moment? Who will break free from the comfortable chains of routine and familiarity to forge a new path? Bouchard stands at the precipice of greatness and oblivion, her every decision a stroke upon the canvas of Canadian identity.

The time is ripe for a great noon, for the awakening of a people long lost in the twilight of contentment. Will this new shepherd lead her flock to greener pastures, or merely guide them in circles within the same barren field?

As the sun sets on one era and rises tentatively on another, the land of the sleepers stirs fitfully. Dreams of what might be mingle with nightmares of what has been, creating a tapestry of possibility that hangs just beyond the grasp of those who dare not reach for it.

The appointment of Marie-Philippe Bouchard is but a single note in the grand opera of cultural evolution. Whether it heralds a crescendo of transformation or a diminuendo into irrelevance remains to be seen. The stage is set, the actors are in place, and the audience – those eternal sleepers – await with bated breath the unfolding of this cosmic drama.

Let those with ears to hear and eyes to see take heed: The old gods are dying, and in their death throes they offer us one last chance at redemption. Will we seize it with the fervor of the Superman, or will we shrink back into the comfort of our chains, content to be the Last Men in a world crying out for heroes?

And so, as the curtain rises on this new act in the theater of Canadian broadcasting, we are left to ponder: Will Marie-Philippe Bouchard be the harbinger of a new dawn, or merely the caretaker of a prolonged twilight? The answer, dear sleepers, lies not in the stars, but in yourselves.