Lies brim with sweetness. Lies are seductive. Lies are comfortable
Truth is bitter. Truth hurts. Truth is tough
The Prime Minister of Canada, “prime” only in his own mind, “ministering” only to his own needs, has enjoyed the sweetness of lies for six years. It has brought him into the lofty company of bankers and corporate giants, into the circles of globalism architects, into the inner sancta of techno overlords: the upper echelons of the upper “nomenklatura”. And all the while, as he was lying his way into the bear hugs of the powerful and lying through his hat to his own people about the benefits of Pfizer and the necessity of lockdowns and - the biggest lie of all - the sacrifice “we all have to make for one another”, that shopworn, exhausted communist line of the 1950’s, the bitter, sour, unpleasant truth of the destruction he had wrought upon his country started rising higher and higher like a fever in the country and like bile in his throat. Because there are people you cannot bullshit. People who have no idea what the WEF is and who don’t care about the stratosphere in which you move - the air is too thin to breathe and the the feet get heavy as they wade through the river of sticky sweet lies. These are the people who actually make the country run when you run away. People who make the country work, while you’re working out. People who bake your bread while you mewl your half-baked ideas. People who will sock it to you, no matter what color socks you wear. People who are real, while you’re being a real pain in the ass.
The truth, bitter and cold like the prairies now traversed by hero truckers, will kill your sweet lies in one instant. It will cut through your cotton candy of mendacity with its merciless steel blade. Do you know why, Justin? Because while you like to play at life, people actually want to live. While you try to engineer lives, corrupt children and destroy futures with you discredited collectivist ideas, people just want to go to work, put food on the table, pay the mortgage and in the summer have a beer with a neighbor at their cottage. The house of lies you have been living in has made you forget that life is family, joy, adventure, good friends, good food and yes, suffering. People do not wish to buy what you’re selling: SAFETY…at the cost of everything else. Safety means nothing when you can’t attend the funeral of your mother. Safety means nothing when you’re cut off from your kids even though you’re only a two-hour flight away. Safety is meaningless and you have made the rest of life meaningless too.
Do you know what meaning is, Justin? People unable to fill their lives with meaning die. They wither away and perish. Through drugs, through drink, through suicide, maybe an early heart attack. Your rules and edicts, your river of sweet sounding lies, have robbed people of meaning. They find themselves in a meaningless, brute world, where safety is the only product being sold but its “best before” date is long past.
So climb out of your hole, Justin, and face your people. Stop being such a whiny little bitch, a lying coward who genuflects to Antifa thugs but won’t talk to the people who brought him the bread and eggs for his morning egg white omelet and avocado toast with arugula. Stand in front of the people and for once in your life, tell the truth: “I was wrong. Wrong about everything. I have lied about loving my people. I only love myself” No…that speech will not happen. Just say this: “As of midnight tonight, all Covid mandates and regulations are null and void. Please resume your lives, my fellow Canadians”
That’s all. No more sweetness, no more lies. Short and painful. Yes, it will hurt you because you are a stranger to it. The truth, baby. The truth!
Inspiring
Beautiful George. As I ponder the world and my cold batteworn homeland from the freedom of sun-kissed Florida, I cannot think of a better way to put it to the child king. Justin needs to let go and then leave. He has stayed out his welcome like a drunk and lecherous uncle. God bless you Mr. Grosman.