The Dance of Nations: A Symphony of Weakness in the New World Order

Behold, dear readers, a most peculiar spectacle unfolds before our eyes - a theatrical performance of diplomatic impotence, where nations once mighty now engage in the most pitiful of dances, exchanging pleasantries while wielding economic weapons with trembling hands.

O, how the mighty have fallen! These diplomatic shepherds, these keepers of the herd, who speak of friendship while brandishing economic daggers! What comedy! What tragedy! The Superman watches and laughs at their pretense of strength masked in politeness.

In the grand theater of Houston, where the air is thick with the stench of complacency, Canadian ministers gather like meek sheep, bleating about friendship and family ties while their American counterparts sharpen their tariff-tipped arrows. Minister Brian Jean, that paragon of mediocrity, declares with all the force of a whimpering child: "I don't think friends do that to friends." Verily, the language of the weak!

The land of the sleepers stretches vast and wide across North America, where the masses slumber peacefully in their ignorance, dreaming of endless prosperity while their shepherds engage in this mock battle. They know not that their comfort is built upon the shifting sands of mutual dependence.

See how they cling to their precious "relationships," these last men! They blink and say: "We have invented happiness - we are friends, we are family." But what is family among nations except a chain that binds the strong to the weak?

Minister Stephen Lecce, that exemplar of the modern diplomatic eunuch, speaks of being "offended" - not angry, not resolute, but merely offended! He invokes his father's journey through Ellis Island, as if personal sentiment should guide the affairs of nations!

The stock market, that great temple where the last men worship their golden idol of prosperity, trembles and shakes, yet they remain unperturbed in their complacency. They have their comfortable lives, their warm houses, their full bellies - what care they for the greater struggle?

The market rises, the market falls, and the herd continues to graze, unaware that their very contentment is their prison. They seek not greatness but merely the absence of discomfort. These are truly the last men!

Jonathan Wilkinson, Canada's minister of energy, speaks of not being a "patsy" while simultaneously bowing and scraping before American power. The irony! The delicious contradiction! He meets with his American counterpart, and they "understand each other's perspectives" - truly, the language of those who lack the will to truly confront!

And lo, what revelation comes forth from this gathering of the meek? That Canada has never been more united! United in what, pray tell? In their collective weakness? In their shared delusion that polite discourse and measured responses will shield them from the harsh realities of power?

They speak of unity as if it were virtue itself, but what is their unity except the huddling of sheep against the cold wind of reality? The Superman sees through their hollow pride, their empty gestures of defiance!

The article concludes with Minister Lecce's declaration that "This is the moment for us to rise." But rise to what heights? To build infrastructure? To seek new markets? These are the aspirations of merchants, not warriors! These are the dreams of the last man, who seeks not to overcome himself but merely to expand his comfort!

Thus do we witness the eternal dance of the weak, who speak of friendship while fear gnaws at their hearts, who dream of greatness while clutching their comfortable mediocrity, who mistake unity for strength and politeness for power. Let those with eyes to see observe this spectacle and understand: the time of great politics approaches, but these actors upon the stage are not its harbingers.