Posts Tagged ‘Politics’

There’s an expression I’ve used for decades. I don’t know who first said it, but it has stayed with me longer than most political slogans or news cycles ever will. ‘If you blame others, you give up the power to change.’

When I first started using it, it had nothing to do with politics. It was about people I knew, family, friends, community members, who faced difficult circumstances. We’ve all known those situations where two children grow up in the same home with the same opportunities and the same challenges, and one rises despite adversity while the other drowns despite prosperity. Circumstance isn’t destiny. Choice is always part of the picture, small, incremental choices about how we react, how we cope, and how we move forward.

But somewhere along the way, this human truth got swallowed by something much larger. Blame has stopped being an individual habit and has instead become a societal norm. It’s now a default setting, a reflex, a cultural posture. It doesn’t just show up in personal relationships or family dynamics. It shows up everywhere now. In politics, in public discourse, in online communities, in the way we talk to strangers and the way we talk to ourselves. It has become the new standard, and an unhealthy one.

And nowhere is that more obvious than in the way politics is now practiced. Over the past decade, politics has increasingly become a performance of victimhood. Not genuine suffering, but strategic grievance. In the United States, Donald Trump has practically built an empire out of it. You hear his refrain daily. Joe Biden this, Crooked Joe that, on and on and on. It’s a relentless drumbeat of pointing fingers outward to avoid ever turning the mirror inward.

And here in Canada? We’re not immune. Pierre Poilievre has turned Justin Trudeau into his entire personality. Ten plus years of the same line: Trudeau broke it, Trudeau ruined it, Trudeau is the cause of every pothole, every grocery bill, every global shockwave, every structural issue that existed long before he was even an MP. There is never a solution, only a scapegoat. And if he ever stopped blaming, he’d have to start explaining, which is far more difficult.

But this isn’t just about them. The real danger is what this style of politics does to us. When leaders model blame, they normalize it. They give society permission to adopt the same posture. And suddenly we are a nation, and a generation, encouraged to externalize everything. Everything becomes someone else’s fault. Someone else’s failure. Someone else’s responsibility to fix.

It creates a kind of moral paralysis.

If everything is always someone else’s doing, then nothing is ever within our power to change. The story becomes fixed. Our agency disappears. And once agency disappears, cynicism fills the space it leaves behind.

This is not the country I grew up in. It’s not the country many of us tried to build. And it’s certainly not a healthy model for young people, because when the only thing they hear from politicians is blame, how on earth are they supposed to learn accountability? How are they supposed to believe they have influence over their own lives, let alone their communities?

If society keeps modelling the opposite, if our political culture keeps rewarding the loudest finger pointer instead of the most honest problem-solver, then we shouldn’t be surprised when the entire public starts behaving the same way.

Leadership is not about who can yell “not my fault” the loudest or who can dig up the oldest grievance. Real leadership is quieter than that. It’s steadier than that. It’s the person who wakes up and without pageantry puts one foot in front of the other and deals with the issues actually in front of them. No excuses. No endless rehashing of who messed up what ten years ago. Just the work.

That’s the kind of leadership I prefer: the kind that solves instead of performs. The kind that owns responsibility instead of outsourcing it. The kind that doesn’t need an enemy to justify its existence.

Because the alternative is exactly what we’re living through, a political landscape where deflection has replaced direction, grievance has replaced governance, and blame has become the cheapest currency in public life.

And honestly who is driving that trend? Donald Trump has built an entire political identity around never taking responsibility for anything, ever, even when the consequences are catastrophic. Pierre Poilievre has spent more than a decade scripting every sentence around Justin Trudeau as if reciting a grievance is the same thing as offering a plan. And Danielle Smith has turned deflection into an art form, blaming everyone from judges to civil servants to the federal government rather than simply governing the province she was elected to lead.

This is not strength. This is not vision. This is not leadership.

We deserve leaders who face the hard truths, not run from them. Leaders who build instead of burn. Leaders who don’t need a scapegoat to feel powerful — and who understand that their job is not performance art but public service.

And we deserve leaders who model that for our children. Because whatever behaviour we normalize at the top quickly becomes the behaviour young people believe is acceptable. They watch how we speak, how we react, how we handle conflict, how we take, or avoid, responsibility. If all they ever hear is blame, then blame becomes the cultural default.

We deserve a society that refuses that path. A society that understands that blame might feel satisfying in the moment, but it is a dead end. It does not move us forward. It does not solve a single problem. It keeps us exactly where we are, frozen in place, circling the same resentments, repeating the same grievances.

And it brings us back to the line I’ve carried through decades of my life, a line more relevant now than ever. “When we blame others, we give up the power to change!”

People keep telling me I’m “not writing from a Canadian perspective”. So let me be uncomfortably blunt: everything I write, whether it’s about Washington, Moscow, Venezuela, or the moon, is through a Canadian lens. Because in 2025, there is no such thing as an American crisis that stays on the American side of the border. What happens there reaches us in real time. Economically, militarily, socially, digitally and emotionally.

Anything I write about the U.S. is about Canada. And this week, the danger became impossible to soften.

Two months ago, Pete Hegseth stood before senior U.S. military leaders and said the quiet part out loud, not hinted at, not theorized, not coded. No, he declared, “We don’t fight with stupid rules of engagement. We untie the hands of our war fighters to intimidate, demoralize, hunt, and kill… Just common sense, maximum lethality, and authority for war fighting.”

Maximum lethality. Untie the hands, intimidate, demoralize, hunt, andkill. That is not doctrine nor strategy. That is permission.

So when the world watched the evolving, contradictory explanations around the second strike on a drug boat, one that looks chillingly like a war crime, none of us should be surprised. The guardrails are gone. They told us they were removing them. They said it right into the cameras.

And as Canadians we’re supposed to shrug and say, “U.S. politics are weird right now”? This isn’t “weird.” This is destabilization and destabilization doesn’t need a passport to cross borders. My nephew, who served his entire career in the Royal Canadian Air Force and now continues with them in a civilian role wrote something earlier this year that I keep returning to. I’m paraphrasing, but he described standing on a tarmac in Afghanistan watching Star Spangled Banner draped coffins being loaded onto a plane. He talked about serving beside Americans who lived, laughed, fought, bled, and grieved as brothers, never caring what flag was on your shoulder as long as you showed up. He believed, deeply, that those same American generals would never obey an order to turn their military against Canada. He believed it was unthinkable. And in March, I believed that too. But this is not March. And the United States is not the same country it was even eight months ago.

Last night’s National Security Strategy should have stopped the world in its tracks. Instead, it barely caused a ripple because we’ve all become numb to shock. But we cannot afford numbness. Not here in Canada. Not when the document refers to Canada, explicitly, as a vassal state. If you look up that term, it means the following. ‘A state that has a mutual obligation to a superior state or empire, similar to a subordinate in a medieval feudal system.’

This is how Trump’s America now views Canada. Not as an ally. Not as a partner. Not as a neighbour with whom it shares the longest peaceful border in the world. But as a subordinate with obligations to an empire.

Read that again. And if you still think Trump is a “good guy,” and that the far-right radical politics sweeping across North America are some kind of righteous populist uprising, then you’re reading the wrong post and the wrong blogger or exactly the one you needed.

People often tell me that my writing calms them. But today, I don’t think I can do that. Today is not about calm. Today is about clarity. About looking at the shift happening south of us, militarily, politically, psychologically, and understanding that Canada is not insulated.

And yes, of course we need to pay attention to what’s happening right here at home, not to hide from the global picture, but because what’s unfolding in Alberta is part of that global picture. The erosion of institutional trust, the attacks on journalism, the flirtation with authoritarian rhetoric, the manufactured chaos, it all mirrors, almost perfectly, what we saw in the U.S. before their political centre collapsed. And the truth is, action always begins closest to home. We can’t fix the entire world, but we can damn well protect the ground we’re standing on. If we don’t get our house in order here, if we don’t recognize the direction these currents are pulling us, then political chaos becomes a gift to anyone who sees Canada not as a nation to respect, but as a chess piece to be moved.

And as much as this fear sits in my chest like a stone, I remain grateful, profoundly grateful, that Mark Carney is the one steering the ship in this moment. Steady when the world is lurching. Calm when our neighbour is convulsing. Focused when others are consumed by rage, impulse, and decline. But leadership can only work when a country understands the stakes.

I wish I could tell you everything will be fine. I wish I could offer comfort instead of warning. But the truth is that Canada is vulnerable. Not because we are weak, but because the reality around us has changed faster than we have been willing to admit.

And the most dangerous thing we can do right now,  as Canadians, as Albertans, as people who love this country, is pretend that the ground beneath us isn’t shaking. I am still optimistic. I wouldn’t write any of this if I weren’t. I believe in us. I believe in what we can be. I believe in our capacity to meet the moment. But optimism is not the same as denial. And today, the truth is simple and unavoidable: When an unstable superpower drops its guardrails, every nation in its shadow had better wake up. Because history does not wait for those who refuse to see it coming.

Before I even begin, I want to say this clearly: I would never change a Franklin book, its message, or its imagery to suit political commentary. These stories were foundational for my kids and for me and the lessons Paulette Bourgeois wrote and Brenda Clark illustrated deserve to be kept intact exactly as they are.

Which is why it feels so bizarre, and frankly insulting, to watch someone else drag Franklin into a political stunt while utterly disregarding the values these books were built on.

Because yes, the U.S. Secretary of Defense (who still calls himself the Secretary of War, as though renaming the job is part of the fantasy) posted an AI-generated picture of Franklin the Turtle hanging out of a helicopter holding a gun. And let me tell you, as someone who read Franklin books for decades and actually respects their moral compass: there is not a single Franklin story where he leans out of a helicopter with a weapon.

So while President Trump’s team continues rewriting norms, reality, and now children’s literature, I’d like to remind them what Franklin books actually taught. And if they’re going to keep dragging Franklin into this, the least we can do is put the real titles back on the table, the ones with actual lessons, not whatever that unhinged helicopter scene was supposed to convey.

Let’s look at some actual Franklin titles I read to my children as maybe they may be relevant in name only to those who frequent the oval office. And yes for the sake of this I will allow the titles to be related to the current US Administration. But just the titles and maybe the lessons that COULD be learned.

Franklin Is Bossy; inspirational reading for anyone who believes leadership involves yelling.

Franklin Plays the Game; although in Washington these days it’s mostly about changing the rules mid-game.

Franklin Is Messy; a political allegory if I’ve ever seen one.

Franklin’s Bad Day; every day ending in “y” when President Trump opens his mouth.

Franklin’s New Friend; once Putin, now the Saudi Prince… the club rotates.

Franklin Is Lost; spiritually, ethically, emotionally, geographically. Pick one.

Franklin Fibs; I don’t even have to explain this one.

Hurry Up, Franklin; or: Hurry up, Trump, could you please just step out of the building? Any building.

Franklin’s Secret Club; perfect for a president who loves a secretive inner circle, complete with loyalty oaths, whispered instructions, and a clubhouse password no one else is allowed to know. I’m guessing the entrance involves tapping three times on a gold-plated door and saying, “Do you love me? Tell me you love me.”

These books were designed to teach children kindness, honesty, problem-solving, and the value of friendship. It is… something else entirely to see those teachings twisted into a militarized meme featuring Franklin leaning out of a helicopter like he’s auditioning for a role in Rambo: The Turtle Years. My apologies for the sarcasm as I relate the titles to current American politics but would they understand the lessons if they moved past the titles

I don’t want to misuse Franklin here. I don’t want to transform a gentle Canadian icon into a prop. I don’t want to corrupt a childhood lesson into a political stunt. However I am using it to comment on the absurdity.

Because when we’re living in a moment where even after verifying screenshots, checking sources, and confirming clips, we still find ourselves asking, Is this parody then something has gone very wrong.

And CBC, if by chance you, Kids Can Press, or anyone who holds licensing rights to Franklin is listening, do you have any ability to tell the Secretary of Defense to stop? I know cease-and-desist letters can’t solve everything, but in this case, I would frame one on my wall out of sheer gratitude.

Franklin deserves better.

Alberta’s Road Ahead

Posted: November 30, 2025 in Uncategorized
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Today, I’m reaching out to a group that might not think of me as “their” voice, but I believe you are. I write from a progressive point of view, yes, but I am not far left and never have been. I am a centrist, maybe philosophically a little left, and most people who follow me are the same: grounded, pragmatic, and driven by fairness over ideology.

But this post isn’t for the usual audience. It is specifically for those Albertans who once proudly called themselves progressive conservatives or small-c conservatives, people who understood conservatism as careful stewardship, not chaos; community, not division; country, not grievance. I need you to hear this before Alberta follows the path unfolding south of us. And to my regular readers, who know I work hard to be fair and fact-driven: I’m asking you to put party labels aside. Think instead about your philosophy, your values, the things you believe when you think about your family, your neighbours, and the country we share. Because I need to say this plainly: the word “conservative” tastes bitter in my mouth these days. Not because of its history, that I respect, but because of what extremists have turned it into.

And I know many of you feel the same. You are not extremists. You are not separatists. You are not Christian nationalists. You are not part of this radical takeover. You represent the Alberta I know and love, and you deserve to hear the truth about what is happening inside the party you once believed in.

What happened at the UCP AGM in Edmonton this weekend was a defining moment. In truth the moment it became undeniable that the UCP is not simply “right-leaning.” It is controlled by an extreme-right faction whose language and goals mirror the dangerous movements tearing the United States apart. And they are not hiding it anymore. Their conversations about divisiveness and separation aren’t fringe now, they are escalating. And we need to be honest about why as even Danielle Smith has lost her audience. She will not be leading this party forward. She is now a liability to the very forces she once empowered. And that leaves Alberta staring down something far worse than “better the devil you know,” because what’s waiting in the wings is far more radical, far more determined, and far more dangerous.

That reality hit me hard during the recent discussions around the pipeline memorandum of understanding between Alberta and Canada. Let me be blunt: that pipeline, framed that way, is never going to happen. And the separatists know it. They are shifting, regrouping, and preparing their next move.

But here is where you need to stop, breathe, and listen. Those separatists do not define this province. Not now. Not ever.

And this circles us back to Forever Canadian. When Thomas A. Lukaszuk and team launched the Forever Canadian campaign, I knew we were responding to something real. But this weekend hit me like a freight train with the realization of just how vital that work was, and how vital it still is. We proved something timeless, something that matters more than ever and is especially true to the quote from Margaret Mead. “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

Forever Canadian wasn’t loud. We didn’t have deep pockets. What we had were real Albertans who wanted this place to remain part of Canada. Our strength wasn’t in noise. It was in purpose, unity, and integrity.

So yes, right now it may look like the separatists have the upper hand. But loudness is not strength. Money is not legitimacy. Coordination is not public support. A fringe is still a fringe, even when it shouts.

As we wait for the constitutional ruling that will determine whether this extremist faction can legally push a separation agenda, I need to speak personally. This is not the Alberta I expected to live in during the later chapters of my life. And I refuse to watch it fall into the hands of people whose vision would tear this province apart. This weekend left me asking, over and over; what can I do? I can write which I do. I can speak,often boldly. And I will not sit still and watch this happen. I still have something to give. Maybe more than one thing and I am ready to take on whatever tasks are needed to keep this province whole, sane, democratic, and Canadian.

And I believe with absolute certainty that most conservatives do not want what is happening inside their party. So I am asking, genuinely and urgently, please speak out. If what you saw this weekend unsettled you or frightened you, you are not alone. And you do not have to stay silent. We have a decision to make about the future of our province and it has to be made now.

Forever Canadian was never a one-time campaign. It was the first line of defense. Now we must choose whether it was a moment or whether it becomes a movement. I know where I stand. And after this weekend, I know exactly why we must stand together again. This moment feels like a long Alberta prairie road, the storm rolling in on one side, sunlight fighting on the other. We can still choose which way we go. But we have to choose now.

Between a rock and a hard place! Yesterday was quite a day. Alberta and Ottawa, two traditional sparring partners, suddenly stood shoulder-to-shoulder long enough to sign an energy memorandum of understanding, not a memorandum of agreement. One does not magically turn into the other. Canada has a long, proud tradition of signing MOUs with great pomp, flair, and photo ops… only for the “U” to quietly pack its bags and never become an “A.” Depending on who you talk to, this is either a long-overdue breakthrough, the beginning of the end for environmental policy, or proof that Mark Carney “finally caved.” I’ve heard it all, I live in Alberta, my husband works in oil and gas, everyone knows I believe strongly we have an obligation to the environmental protection of the planet, and trust me, no one here is quiet.

But the claim that Carney “threw the baby out with the bathwater”? Please. The baby’s fine (so far). The tub isn’t filled. The faucet isn’t even turned on yet. This MOU was political choreography. Alberta needed to feel seen, Danielle Smith needed a headline, and Carney needed to show he understands the economic stakes. But the moment the ink dried, the real work shifted westward. Because nothing, and I mean nothing, is moving without British Columbia and the Indigenous peoples of B.C. agreeing to it. And that is not something Alberta can yell its way through.

Now, here’s where I land, and I’ll be honest, it’s not a simple place. I understand the economic argument. Alberta has been told “transition” for decades while carrying a massive share of this country’s revenue. And yes, we need new markets; relying on the United States as our one and only customer was a naïve strategy. Alberta has failed to promote alternative energies and that needs to be part of any conversation. I have serious environmental concerns, and they’re not small ones. Carbon capture has promise, but promise isn’t proof. Pipeline safety on a rugged coastline isn’t a slogan; it’s math, engineering, and risk that must be measured, not wished away. If someone wants me to believe this can be done safely, they’d better bring more than talking points. I’m open to listening, but not to blind faith.

And that’s why today’s announcement feels less like a yes or a no and more like a “well, let’s see.” A private sector proponent still has to appear. A major projects process has to be navigated. A reworked carbon pricing agreement has to materialize. And Indigenous nations, including coastal nations, have to consent. They can’t be pressured, nor bypassed and must have consent.

Meanwhile, in B.C., the reaction has already ranged from skeptical to incredulous. Some communities want growth; others see this as Alberta’s reward and B.C.’s risk. And let’s be honest: that’s not a dynamic that sells well at the best of times.

Add to that the internal fallout, including a cabinet resignation rooted in environmental alarm, and it’s clear this isn’t just a provincial fight. It’s a national conversation wrapped in competing long-term visions, with no easy consensus and no shortcuts.

And here’s where I am this morning, and I’m not going to pretend it’s comfortable. Economically, I understand why Alberta wants this. We need new markets. We need to stop pretending the United States is a stable or reliable customer. An additional pipeline to tidewater could give us leverage we haven’t had in decades. I’m not blind to that. I live in a province built on this industry and married to someone who works in it. But the environmental risks are real. Not theoretical, not hysterical, real. A coastline spill would be catastrophic. And no politician waving a pen in Ottawa or Edmonton changes the fact that Indigenous nations have both constitutional standing and international protections under UNDRIP. Without their consent, this project doesn’t just slow down it stops. Add to that a little practical reality check: There is no proponent. Oil prices aren’t high enough to attract one. And until someone with billions of dollars raises their hand, this entire conversation is a hypothetical one presented as momentum.

Meanwhile, just last week the Premier of B.C. said they would consider increasing capacity on the existing Trans Mountain pipeline, a project already built, already operating, and already moving barrels west. Somehow that wasn’t treated as the headline opportunity. And maybe it should have been.

Carney and the country are in a hard place. A place between economic urgency and environmental responsibility. Between national ambition and on-the-ground reality. Between wanting to move forward and recognizing all the reasons we should not. I still believe Carney knows what he’s doing. I just hope this doesn’t cost him more inside his own caucus on the way through, because the stakes for this country, economically, environmentally, politically, are too high to lose steady hands now.

And so for the moment, I’m doing what most Canadians are doing: watching and thinking and waiting. Trying to find that landing spot between hope and worry. It’s not easy, it’s not neat, and it’s not resolved. I feel on the edge of something, uncertain of its shape, and unwilling to look away.

Ukaine and the 28 Point Plan

Posted: November 23, 2025 in Uncategorized
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I’m sorry, but we have to go back to a dark conversation. It’s hard, from where we sit in our relatively safe corner of the world, to fully grasp the geopolitical weight of what is unfolding. Most of us have never lived under bombardment, never fled our homes with minutes to spare, never had to choose between surrendering dignity or surviving another winter under attack. But for those who still carry the memories of our last great global conflicts, for those whose families understand occupation, invasion, and loss, this moment is not theoretical. They know exactly what this means.

And we need to be honest with ourselves too. Canada is not insulated from this. We may feel far from Europe’s danger, but we share a border, not by fence line but by Arctic geography, with Russia. That reality doesn’t go away because we find it uncomfortable. It’s not fear-mongering to acknowledge it; it’s realism. Geography will not change. And when Russia pushes the boundaries of the international order, those ripples reach us whether we want them to or not.

And today, President Volodymyr Zelensky made it clear: Ukraine is standing at the edge of an impossible choice. He warned that the country may soon face “either the loss of dignity or the risk of losing a key partner.” Dignity is not a stray word. It’s a deliberate reference to Ukraine’s 2014 Revolution of Dignity, when Ukrainians overthrew a corrupt, Moscow-aligned president and claimed a democratic, European future. They fought for sovereignty once. Now they’re being cornered into signing it away.

Because the 28-point “peace plan” Donald Trump is pressuring Ukraine to sign before Thanksgiving is not a peace plan. It is a Russian-authored blueprint, awkwardly translated into English, and presented as diplomacy. Ukraine didn’t help write it. Europe wasn’t consulted. Congress was blindsided. But Putin’s allies were deeply involved.

The plan begins by restating Ukraine’s sovereignty, something Russia already promised in 1994 and promptly violated in 2014. From there, it accelerates: Crimea and vast sections of Ukraine’s eastern industrial heartland would be ceded to Russia. Ukraine would be forced to shrink its military. And Russia would face zero accountability, not for the torture chambers, not for the mass graves, not for the sexual violence, not for the deliberate targeting of civilians.

Instead, the plan offers full amnesty: no claims, no charges, no justice. Then comes the financial contortion. The world is being told Russia will “rebuild Ukraine,” except the reconstruction is mostly for the territories Russia would keep. Frozen Russian assets would be used to clean up Russia’s own destruction, and the improved regions would then belong to Russia. Europe, again not consulted, would unfreeze more Russian assets and contribute an additional $100 billion. And then the U.S. and Russia would split the profits.

Europe pays. Russia gains land. Trump gets to call it a deal.

Ukraine would also be required to amend its constitution to permanently reject NATO membership which has been Putin’s obsession for decades. And the plan attempts to reframe the United States not as a NATO ally but as some kind of “mediator” between NATO and Russia. It’s an unmistakable attempt to weaken the alliance system that has kept Europe stable since World War II.

NOTHING in this plan hides its purpose. It dismantles the post-war rules-based order and drags the world back to a time when powerful nations carved up smaller ones and called it “peace.”

This is the pressure Zelensky faces. This is the trap being set for a country already exhausted by loss, displacement, and years of Russian brutality. And somehow, through all of this, we’re meant to pretend Donald Trump has changed. That he’s independent. That Putin no longer has influence over him.

But this document reads like it was drafted in Moscow and couriered straight to Trump’s desk. It mirrors Putin’s priorities word for word. And it confirms something we already suspected: Trump is still firmly aligned, ideologically, politically, and predictably, with Vladimir Putin.

The geopolitical risk to Europe is enormous. A fractured Ukraine doesn’t bring peace; it creates a corridor of instability stretching from the Baltics to the Balkans. It emboldens Russia. It fractures NATO. And it signals to every authoritarian regime that borders can be erased if you find the right Western politician to help rebrand your land grab.

We may be far from Ukraine’s front lines, but Canada is not outside this story. Our security relies on an international system that punishes aggression, not one that rewards it. Our geography ties us directly to Russia in the Arctic. And our history, our real, lived history, reminds us why appeasement has always been the most dangerous path of all.

The world cannot afford to look away. And I know I’m not able to look away. And you shouldn’t look away.

There are days when I worry we’re watching democracy get chipped away one unhinged Truth Social post at a time. Today was one of those days. Donald Trump, the man who dreams in capital letters and tantrums threatened Democratic lawmakers with arrest and execution because they did a video reminding military members to follow the law. That’s it. A group of veterans saying, “Your oath matters,” and Trump coming back with, “Hang them.” Not metaphorically. Literally.

And whenever something like this happens, the predictable chorus of extreme media voices kicks in. Left, right, and everything radicalized in between. People who treat politics like sport commentary, who defend the indefensible if it benefits their team and attack the reasonable if it threatens their scoreboard. I’m not talking about mainstream conservatives or progressives; I’m talking about the loudest, angriest, most hyperventilating commentators who seem to think democracy is a game show they’re trying to host. They spin and they excuse and they normalize. And they make it harder for ordinary people to see what’s right in front of them.

So let’s step out of the noise and into reality, Canadian reality.

Earlier this year, when Trump said he was going to “get Canada one way or another,” I spoke with people who’ve actually served. Friends, and people in my family. People who fought beside Americans in Afghanistan. And they all said the same thing at that time which was something I took some temporary comfort in: “The U.S. military leadership won’t follow an illegal order. Their oath is to the Constitution, not to the man. They wouldn’t invade Canada.

And I still want to believe that. But then came the Pentagon meeting a few months ago where Trump told senior commanders that if they didn’t fall in line, they could walk out the door. And if they did? They risked losing rank, pensions, and honours. Decades of service wiped away because they refused to bend to his personal will.

That’s not “leadership.” That’s coercion and the hallmark of someone who sees himself as a ruler rather than a president.

Today’s explosion over a simple reminder of legal duty only reinforces that. In my opinion nothing in that video was radical. Nothing was partisan. Nothing was even controversial. The message was something every soldier in North America learns on day one, your oath is to the Constitution, to lawful authority, not to the emotions of the person sitting in the big office.

This principle goes all the way back to the Nuremberg Principles, the foundation of post-WWII military law: “Just following orders” is not a defense for unlawful actions. Military personnel must follow lawful orders and challenge unlawful ones. And while yes, there are exact procedures depending on rank and context, the principle remains the same. It is the bedrock of a professional military.

Which is why there is absolutely nothing wrong with that video. It simply restates the oath Trump wants people to forget. And this is where my fear kicks in. Because not every enlisted person, especially the youngest ones has the background or confidence to distinguish between legality and politics. Many join because it’s their path to an education, a steady income, a future. That’s not a criticism, it’s the reality of recruitment demographics across the North America. Young people are trained to follow orders, not to decode the emotional storms of a man who treats the presidency like a spotlight he refuses to step out of.

Now imagine being a junior soldier hearing the Commander-in-Chief amplify posts calling lawmakers “traitors” and saying “hang them.” Imagine being a senior officer knowing your oath obligates you to refuse unlawful orders, while also knowing your entire career could be erased by the man issuing them. Imagine being a military family watching this unfold, knowing the oath your loved one swore is becoming a political drama. Imagine being an American soldier today.
It terrifies me. And here’s the Canadian part that should terrify you: Fifty percent of Canada’s Conservative base says they support Trump’s agenda and behaviour. Half. So if you’re in that 50%, I’m speaking directly to you: Is this what you endorse? A leader who demands personal loyalty from the armed forces?
A leader who suggests elected officials should die for reminding troops to follow the law? A leader whose outbursts require cleanup crews to appear on television insisting he “didn’t mean it”?

Because here’s the truth: It doesn’t matter if that soldier in the image below is Canadian or American, the oath is the same. In Canada and the United States, soldiers swear an oath to the law, not to the person who holds power.
The words differ slightly, but the meaning is identical: lawful authority first, democracy first, constitutional duty first. Not the ego of someone who thinks he’s above all three.

I’ve read pieces of my son’s papers from Royal Military College. Things like law of armed conflict, conflict theory, technology and warfare. And the lesson across all of it is simple and unwavering:

A professional military stands above political emotion. If Donald Trump, or anyone like him, expects soldiers to replace their oath with his ego, then democracy across this continent is in danger.

This isn’t about left vs. right. This isn’t about Democrats vs. Republicans. Liberals vs Conservatives. This is about the line between law and power, and who we expect our soldiers to follow. And that scares me. It scares me a lot.

UPDATE: I need to stand corrected. Rumour now has it that this will pass the Senate. And if that’s true, it doesn’t reassure me. It confirms every darker suspicion I had. Because for the Senate to suddenly fall in line, something behind the scenes has shifted, and not toward justice. If anything, it tells me the machinery working in the background is even more insidious, more self-protective, and more calculated than I thought. Whatever deal has been made, whatever pressure has been applied, whatever narrative Trump has pre-scripted it’s worse than the version I was bracing for.

There is nothing I can say today about the Epstein file that hasn’t already been chewed up and spit out by every podcaster, blogger, Substack warrior, news anchor, and the never ending parade of self appointed truth tellers on social media. This story has been dissected, divided, incinerated, resurrected, and re-packaged more times than any of us can count. And yet here we are again, walking right into another so called “moment of reckoning” as Congress gets ready to vote this afternoon. So yes, I’m putting my thoughts down before the two o’clock gong sounds, not because my voice will change anything, but because the hypocrisy rolling through Washington today deserves to be stamped, labeled, and called out with full accuracy.

Let’s begin with the most predictable part: Donald Trump did not suddenly wake up and decide that transparency is good for democracy. The man has never acted out of moral clarity in his life. If he’s supporting the release of anything related to Epstein, it’s because he already knows exactly what he can protect, what he can bury, and what he can spin. He doesn’t do anything unless he can tighten his grip in the process. So the idea that he is suddenly on the side of “letting the truth out” is laughable. If he is allowing this door to open even a crack, it’s because he has already controlled the narrative.

I am not accusing him of having sexual relations with underage girls. I have no proof of that, and I don’t pretend to. What I can say, because it’s indisputable, is that he was there. He knew who Epstein was. He knew what Epstein was widely rumored to be. Trump was not some naive bystander wandering into the wrong circles. At absolute best, he was passive. At worst, he was complicit through silence, proximity, and willful ignorance. And that alone is enough to demand scrutiny. But apparently demand and receive are very different things when you’re dealing with a man who has trained an entire political party to kneel before his whims.

Which brings us to today’s vote in the House. Suddenly, Republicans have permission to support releasing these documents. Not because they grew spines. Not because they found moral purpose. Not because the victims deserve justice. No. They are supporting this because Donald Trump has told them it is safe to do so. Their king, their god, their idol, their living embodiment of whatever twisted movement they’ve built; well he said yes. So they obey. And with his blessing, they can now pretend they’ve been warriors for truth all along.

But don’t be fooled. Because once this leaves the House, it enters the building where accountability goes to be stalled, smothered, and diluted beyond recognition: the United States Senate.
This is the chamber where Trump’s influence runs deepest. This is where loyalty to him isn’t just encouraged; it’s required. Many of these Senators owe their careers, their fundraising machine, and their political safety to him. And the minute anything threatens his interests, they lock step like soldiers guarding a fortress. There is no scenario where a full, unfiltered release of Epstein files passes through that chamber while Trump still commands the Republican Party. None. Please prove me wrong.

I already knew this would hit a wall, until I made the mistake of listening this morning to Mike Johnson, the Speaker of the House, a man who manages to combine sanctimony, dishonesty, and self-righteous slime in a single breath. According to him, he has been in “discussions” with his Senate counterpart, and the Senate has “concerns.” Let’s translate that into plain language: this is going nowhere. The Senate will delay it, stall it, bury it in committee, or strangle it with amendments. Whatever the method, the goal is the same: make it look like they tried, without ever allowing anything real to surface.

And in all of this political maneuvering and reputation saving, what gets lost, what always gets lost, is the truth that there were victims. Real people. Real children. Young lives that were manipulated, coerced, abused, and then ignored by the very systems supposedly built to protect them. They were failed by prosecutors, by police, by powerful men with more money than conscience, and by every person who looked the other way because confronting the truth would have cost them something. These young women have carried the weight of this for years. Some were silenced and some were pushed into the spotlight to relive nightmares the world dismissed as gossip or scandal. They deserve more than selective transparency. They deserve more than curated disclosures crafted to protect the rich and powerful. If there is going to be a reckoning, it should centre them, not the men scrambling to shield themselves from consequences.

And yes, I’m saying this from Canada. We may be north of the border, but we’re not blind to the fallout. For decades, America was the example, the country that claimed to stand for law, truth, fairness. But this? This contortion of justice and loyalty? This is not the America we once measured ourselves against. And if any echo of that ideal was still hanging on, this behaviour snaps the last piece off. We care because what happens there never stays there, and because victims, on any side of any border, deserve better.

So yes, the House vote will happen today, and yes, it will pass. But the pass itself is hollow if it’s designed to go no further. What matters is whether the truth escapes the Senate, where Trump’s grip is tightest and where the incentives to protect him are strongest. And let’s be honest: he would never green light anything he feared. He is not suddenly embracing openness. He is repositioning. He is gaming the system. He is controlling the floodgates, not opening them.

This is not justice nor courage nor accountability. This is control, strategic, deliberate, and calculated. If anyone wants to celebrate today as some watershed moment, ask yourself who benefits. Ask who is still in control. Ask who gains when the public believes something meaningful has happened even when nothing has. Because Donald Trump has never once allowed truth to obstruct his own survival. And he isn’t about to start now.

Canada Geese

Posted: November 15, 2025 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , ,

This crisp late-fall day has the last of the stubborn geese circling overhead, honking like they’re still debating whether they should go south this year. And honestly, given the state of things, who can blame them for hesitating? So many stayed last year. Maybe the ones still lingering on the canal took one look at the southern border and said, “No thanks, we’ll risk the frostbite.” They’re out there bobbing on the water, perfectly content, not looking the least bit anxious about moving on.

And yes, I hear you. “Nancy, what on earth does this have to do with anything?” Well, apparently more than I realized, because my brain seems to be looping back to the United States whether I mean to or not. And today, what I keep circling around is the moral cesspool that is the Epstein file situation.

Let me start with something I’ve said before and I will not soften here: I’m not sure there is a more repugnant human being walking this planet than Donald Trump. Inside politics, outside politics, take your pick. The man is rot.
But here’s where we weaken ourselves: when we focus solely on trying to label him a pedophile. I don’t know what he did or didn’t do sexually, and I don’t pretend to. What I do know, and what any thinking adult can see is that Donald Trump knew exactly who Jeffrey Epstein was, and exactly what he was doing.

You cannot orbit that world and be oblivious. You cannot spend years around the man and be unaware. Epstein did not become wealthy through brilliance or talent. He didn’t finish school. He was a mediocre Wall Street guy who somehow ascended into extreme wealth and extreme access.

And there is only one explanation that makes sense: his business model was procuring young girls for powerful men. That was his commodity, his leverage and his power. And that is why “follow the money” matters here in a way that truly exemplifies that phrase.

Because is not only about sex crimes, as monstrous as they are. This is about power, money, leverage, and protecting wealthy men whose reputations, careers, and political futures rest on keeping those files sealed. Some of those wealthy men are allies of Donald Trump. Some are donors. Some are defenders. Some are simply adjacent in ways that make everyone very, very nervous.

Now Trump has announced he wants an “investigation” but only into a small, cherry-picked group of Democrats he personally despises. He wants the process sliced to his convenience, weaponized for his grudges, and stripped of its full truth.

And how anyone sees that as fair, moral, or acceptable is beyond me.

If we are serious about justice, then every single person in those files must be investigated. Every billionaire, every celebrity, every politician and every hanger-on. I don’t care if they’re 97 years old and bedbound, if they hurt children, they answer for it.
And yes, Donald, that includes you. If you’re innocent, fling open the vault and prove it. People who are innocent don’t limit investigations. People who are innocent don’t curate lists. People who are innocent don’t fear daylight.

After the last U.S. election, the one that devastated me, I said something I’ll repeat again: Senators, congresspeople, look at your daughters and granddaughters when you vote. Because you have already failed them once. Do not fail them again. Two things matter now: Every Epstein file must be released. Every document, every ledger, every associate. Not some. Not the convenient ones.
All of them. AND Donald Trump must say he will NOT pardon Ghislaine Maxwell, a convicted sex trafficker. If he refuses to do that, then he is telling the world exactly what, and who, he is protecting.

And let me sharpen the line that needs no misinterpretation: This request to open the files will pass Congress, and will hopefully pass the senate. But if this reaches Trump’s desk and he blocks transparency, that is not confusion. That is not bureaucracy. That is not “procedure.” It is a choice, a deliberate act to protect himself, his allies, and any powerful man whose name appears where he doesn’t want it to.

He is not shielding America from scandal. He is shielding himself from accountability. There is no other story.

And that brings me back to the geese. They’re still out there on the canal, doing what geese do: watching the water, watching the temperature, responding to the world exactly as it is. They don’t only fly south out of tradition or habit. Actually they move when nature tells them it’s time, when the freeze takes hold, when the signals become impossible to ignore. They survive because they read the conditions honestly.

Americans are standing in that same moment. The water is cooling. The ice is forming. The warning signs are right in front of them. The geese will lift off when the freeze becomes undeniable.
The question is whether Americans will finally do the same, not by fleeing, but by refusing to let lies, secrecy, and power bury the truth any deeper.

Here’s what Mark Carney did today.

In a rapidly shifting global landscape, the Prime Minister announced the launch of a new Major Projects Office (MPO) headquartered in Calgary (any comments Premier Smith), with additional offices opening in other major Canadian cities. Backed by legislation already passed this June, the MPO is designed to fast-track nation-building projects, ports, railways, clean energy initiatives, and critical mineral developments. It will create a “one project, one review” approach, reducing approval times to a maximum of two years while upholding environmental standards and Indigenous rights.

Even more, the MPO will help structure financing through the Canada Infrastructure Bank, the Growth Fund, and the Indigenous Loan Guarantee Program, alongside private capital and provincial partners. In other words: real planning, real coordination, real jobs, real growth.

That’s leadership. It’s about building something Canadians can see, touch, and benefit from. It’s about the future.

And meanwhile, here’s what we got from the Leader of the Opposition. Pierre Poilievre stood at a podium and gave Canadians a 30-minute “tough-on-crime” sermon, complete with dramatic tone, perfect salt-and-pepper hair, and rehearsed theatrics. His message? Fear. He painted pictures of home invasions at 2 a.m., of parents forced into split-second life-or-death choices, of a system that punishes victims instead of criminals.

Now, crime is real. The trauma of an intrusion, the fear of glass shattering in the night, that’s real too. I don’t dismiss it. But my greatest fears aren’t criminals breaking into my home. I’m more afraid of tornadoes ripping across the prairie, wildfires swallowing forests, and hurricanes flooding communities. I’m more afraid of global instability, Gaza, Ukraine, and the uncertainty of a world where Trump makes decisions that affect Canadian lives. I’m more afraid because my own son serves in the Canadian Armed Forces, and I know exactly what “instability” can mean for families.

Poilievre doesn’t go there. He doesn’t want to. Because that would mean confronting Trump, confronting climate, confronting complexity. Instead, he leans into American-style “stand your ground” rhetoric, promising to rewrite Canadian law to make lethal force a presumed right.

And to me that is NOT leadership, that’s mimicry. We don’t need to become a northern knockoff of the United States. Their gun culture, their obsession with armed self-defense, their endless cycle of mass shootings, that’s not who we are.

Pierre knows who he’s talking to. He’s speaking to his Conservative base, shoring up support after losing his seat in Ottawa and facing a leadership review. He’s not speaking to Canadians as a whole. And that’s the difference.

When I listen to Mark Carney, I don’t hear someone only talking to Liberals. I hear someone talking to Canadians. He compromises where necessary. He thinks before he speaks. He takes the 10,000-foot view, not the 10-foot spotlight. He knows that being Prime Minister isn’t about playing to the bleachers. It’s about carrying the weight of a nation, even when it means taking on allies, critics, or his own party.

Poilievre, meanwhile, is stuck in performance mode. He hammers away at the one note. But when you only stare at the narrow circle beneath your feet, you miss the horizon. And right now, Canada’s horizon is where the real challenges lie.

Where does he stand on Gaza? On Ukraine? On Trump’s tariffs? On Canada’s economic sovereignty? We don’t know. And I suspect that’s intentional. It’s safer for him to stick with crime monologues than to risk alienating his base by talking about the big picture.

So let’s be clear about what happened today: Mark Carney announced a nation-building office to accelerate infrastructure, clean energy, and jobs. Pierre Poilievre delivered a half-hour performance about fear.

That’s the contrast. One builds, one blusters. One leads, one performs. And I, for one, don’t feel safe leaving Canada’s future in the hands of a performer. Because when the storm clouds gather, and they already are, I want a leader, not an actor waiting for applause. I choose hope over despair.