A Proposal for a New Canadian Monarchy
Because It’s Time We Admit We’re Already Living Under One
If you’ve made it this far in life without being fired, cancelled, or publicly flogged for saying something true, congratulations — you’re ahead of me. I write because I can’t not; because silence feels like complicity, and complicity feels like rot. If this piece leaves you nodding, snarling, or muttering, “Well, he’s not wrong,” then you’re precisely the reader I’m writing for.
You’ll get two essays a week - three if I get really jaded about an issue and can’t restrain myself— unapologetically long, occasionally bleak, often funny, always honest. It’s six bucks a month — less than one coffee in Carney’s Canada, or two if you buy the cheap stuff. Everyone says that, of course: “It’s just a cup of coffee.” Fine. But if you’re only going to buy one cup this month, make it mine. It’s $8 a month, and you can cancel anytime.
There comes a point in a nation’s decline when the myths must be put to bed. This usually happens somewhere between the institutional rot of its governing class and the moment its democracy becomes indistinguishable from a puppet theatre for trained seals. Canada has reached that point with all the grace of a moose falling down a staircase.
We continue reciting the constitutional lullaby:
Legislature, Executive, Judiciary — as if chanting the names of the Three Bears might resurrect their moral authority. It is the political equivalent of listening to a four-year-old belting out Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in a basement. You’ve seen it: the glazed eyes, the tuneless enthusiasm, the complete disengagement from the celestial wonder the song describes. The child has no idea what a star is. They gaze upward with the intellectual intensity of a fruit fly.
Our parliamentarians are the same.
They repeat the sacred phrases of Westminster democracy with the same blank incomprehension, the same vacant recital, the same disconnect between sound and meaning, except that the four-year-old eventually grows up. Your MP does not.
Canadian MPs vote with their party 97% of the time—a figure so embarrassing that even North Korea might ask us to tone it down for fear of appearing sycophantic. The debate has disintegrated into a game of Parliamentary karaoke. MPs rise, sit, rise, sit, like malfunctioning cuckoo clocks, reciting PMO talking points written by some anonymous intern who believes “policy approval” is the same as a TikTok going viral.
The Senate, meanwhile, exists as a federally funded palliative ward for donors and friends of the regime — a plush holding pen for loyalists who have done enough to earn a sinecure but not enough to deserve any actual responsibility.
In truth, Canada already has a monarchy. We merely refuse to call it one.
Before we crown our new Sovereign, some constitutional loyalists will protest:
“But we already have a king. Charles.”
Ah yes — Charles III, patron saint of worthy causes and terminal tedium. A man who can turn any topic — climate change, organic farming, architecture, botany, moral virtue — into an extended sermon so soporific that one begins to envy those in comas.
His supporting cast is equally educational.
Prince Andrew: The Epstein Houseguest-in-Residence
Andrew’s association with Jeffrey Epstein achieved the rare feat of making royal scandals seem almost quaint. His infamous BBC interview — the non-sweating, Pizza Express-loving, innocence-pleading performance of a man drowning on dry land — is the greatest tragicomedy since Nero tried to blame the fire on the Christians.
Harry & Meghan: The Pity-Industrial Complex
Harry, the ginger Duke of Perpetual Disappointment, and Meghan, the Duchess of Eternal Victimhood — two people whose combined grievance output could power the Alberta oil sands. Their Montecito mansion has more rooms than Parliament has independent thinkers, yet we are urged to pity them. Their brand is suffering; their fuel is self-pity; their product is grievance. They are the Fort McMurray of emotional extraction.
Let Britain keep its dysfunctional soap opera.
We shall build our own monarchy — honest, efficient, and tailored to Canadian incompetence.
