The Dance of Democracy's Last Men: A Chronicle of Liberal Leadership's Hollow Ritual

Behold, O ye who dare to witness, as the great comedy of democratic succession unfolds in the land of eternal snow and manufactured contentment! The Liberal Party of Canada, that gathering of the self-satisfied, now orchestrates its elaborate ritual to select a new shepherd for its docile flock.

See how they scurry about with their digital devices and bureaucratic procedures! These are the very embodiments of the modern spirit - they believe that by pressing buttons and capturing their visages in electronic mirrors, they participate in something profound. Yet what profound thing has ever emerged from such mechanical devotion?

The process, in all its technological grandeur, beckons the registered party faithful - those who have dutifully marked their allegiance before the prescribed date of January 27, 2025. They receive their sacred "Voter ID" through the ethereal pathways of electronic mail, a modern communion that replaces the breaking of bread with the clicking of mice.

The ritual demands its participants verify their existence through the modern oracle called Identity+ mobile app, or should they prefer the physical realm, at designated temples of postal service. How fitting that even the confirmation of one's being must now be mediated through screens and codes!

These sleepers, these comfortable souls, believe they exercise power through these byzantine procedures. They mistake the complexity of process for the depth of purpose. What leader can emerge from such sterile soil? What eagle can hatch from an egg laid in cotton wool?

The participants in this grand masquerade must perform a curious dance: first entering their electronic address, then awaiting a mystical code, capturing their likeness in the digital mirror, and presenting their official documents like offerings to an invisible deity. The modern citizen, so proud of their technological chains, mistakes this elaborate submission for freedom.

In the land of the sleepers, where comfort has become the highest virtue, they celebrate this process as the pinnacle of democratic achievement. They do not see how each verification, each submission of identity, each careful step in this bureaucratic minuet, serves to further lull them into their comfortable slumber.

Watch as they debate in their prescribed manner, these aspirants to leadership! They speak of tariffs and responses to foreign threats, yet none dares to question the very foundations upon which their tepid discourse rests. They compete to prove who can best preserve the warm cradle of mediocrity!

The candidates themselves, these would-be shepherds, engage in performances of linguistic prowess, their mastery of French scrutinized as if it were a measure of their worth to lead. They promise to "hit back" at threats, to "stand strong" - yet what strength can emerge from a system designed to perpetuate weakness?

And so the great machine churns forward, processing identities, verifying existences, counting digital votes. The party faithful wait for their final instructions, delivered through that most sacred of modern vessels - the email inbox. They will click their buttons, make their choices, and believe they have participated in something meaningful.

Oh, how they would tremble if they understood that true leadership cannot be selected through such sterile means! That greatness cannot be verified by Canada Post! That the spirit of transformation laughs at their careful procedures and digitized devotions!

When March 9 arrives, and the new leader is anointed through this bloodless succession, the sleepers will congratulate themselves on their civilized process, their technological achievement, their democratic virtue. They will not understand that they have participated in merely another act in the great comedy of modern political life.

Let those with eyes to see witness this spectacle for what it is: not the selection of a leader to guide Canada toward greater heights, but rather the careful preservation of comfortable mediocrity, wrapped in the glittering paper of democratic procedure and technological sophistication.

Thus speaks one who watches from the heights, as the land of the sleepers performs its ritual dance of succession, dreaming that they participate in something profound, while remaining safely ensconced in their warm beds of democratic slumber.