Meech Lake & Mulroney: Unity at What Cost?

Read the book On the Take by Stevie Cameron.
Then come back and try to tell me Brian Mulroney deserves a statue. It’s required reading if you really want to understand the rot behind the rhetoric.


You want to know how deep the fracture between East and West goes?
Start with Meech Lake.

In 1987, Prime Minister Brian Mulroney tried to pull off a constitutional miracle. He wanted Quebec to finally sign onto the 1982 Constitution—something it had refused to do. The price?

  • Recognizing Quebec as a “distinct society”
  • Giving more power to provinces (on paper, anyway)
  • Doing it all behind closed doors

Source: The Canadian Encyclopedia – Meech Lake Accord


It looked like unity.
It was branded as healing.
But for Western Canada, it felt like a handshake made behind locked doors.

The West didn’t get more say.
The West didn’t get stronger representation.
What we got was a deeper sense that we were there to be managed, not heard.


🧨 When Meech Collapsed, the Damage Was Already Done

The Accord died in 1990—not because the West rejected it, but because Newfoundland and Manitoba did. But by then, the damage had metastasized.

  • It gave rise to the Bloc Québécois, born out of Lucien Bouchard’s protest exit from Mulroney’s cabinet.
  • It poured gasoline on the fire that would ignite the Reform Party.
  • It confirmed what Western Canadians already suspected: Ottawa never really saw us.

“Unity,” we learned, was just a rebranded word for compliance.


🤝 Mulroney’s Legacy: More Division, Not Less

Where was Mulroney when the smoke cleared?

Still clinging to the illusion that power could be balanced…
if you just gave Quebec more than everyone else.

You’re not wrong.

Meech Lake was a warning shot.
It missed the East, but hit the West straight in the chest.


📘 Further Reading:

The Bloc Québécois: The Party You Can’t Vote For

Let’s talk about truth in context. If the opening section left your stomach unsettled, good. Now chew on this:

The Bloc Québécois is one of the clearest, most uncomfortable truths in Canadian politics. A party that doesn’t run candidates in the West. Doesn’t campaign for your vote. Doesn’t represent your interests. And yet…

They sit in Ottawa. They vote on national policy. They influence the future of provinces they have no accountability to.


A Brief History

The Bloc Québécois (BQ) was formed in 1991 by former Progressive Conservative and Liberal MPs, frustrated after the failure of the Meech Lake Accord—a failed bid to bring Quebec into the 1982 Constitution by recognizing it as a “distinct society.”

Source: Canadian Encyclopedia – Bloc Québécois

The Bloc only runs in Quebec. Its sole mandate? To represent Quebec—and in some cases, push for sovereignty.

Despite being a regional party, it won 54 out of 75 seats in Quebec in 1993, becoming the Official Opposition in Parliament. A party accountable only to one province became the main voice challenging the federal government.

Today, they still hold over 30 seats, tipping votes, shaping debates, and steering national direction—while millions of Canadians in the West have zero say in their presence or power.


What That Means for the West

It means we’re spectators in a game where only certain teams are allowed to score. It means our votes are diluted, our voices sidelined, and our needs parked behind closed doors.

This isn’t representation. This is regional imbalance dressed up in federal robes.

The Trouble With Truth

Jack Nicholson said it in A Few Good Men—“You can’t handle the truth.” And while he was playing a fictional colonel, the line has only gotten more relevant with time.

Because in 2025, truth is no longer universal. It’s algorithmic. It’s curated. It’s branded.

There’s your truth. My truth. The internet’s truth. The truth they want you to believe.

And in the middle of all that noise is the real version—quiet, stubborn, and inconvenient.

It’s not that truth disappeared. It’s that most people can’t—or won’t—face it.

The truth demands confrontation. And people don’t want confrontation. They want comfort. Echo chambers. Feel-good reinforcement.

They want sanitized facts. Tailored narratives. Filtered doses of righteousness. Not the raw stuff. Not the uncomfortable kind that exposes flaws, demands change, or pierces through legacy and position.

But here’s the thing—truth doesn’t need permission. It doesn’t need a platform. And it doesn’t need your comfort.

Truth just is.

And if we stop telling the truth—if we start bending it to protect feelings, status, or legacy—then we’re not solving problems. We’re surrendering to them.

The hardest part isn’t finding truth. It’s standing beside it when it’s no longer popular. When it makes you the odd one out. When it costs you.

Because truth has always come with a cost. And in 2025? That cost has never been higher.

And I’m paying it. Every day.

But I’ll keep paying it. Because a life spent avoiding truth… isn’t much of a life at all.


This isn’t a think piece. It’s a warning. And if it makes you uncomfortable—good. That means it’s working.

Once Again, the West Gets Screwed

Let me just say it plainly: Mark Carney is not a savior for the West. Period.

For all the folks jumping on the Carney wagon, blinded by a polished resume and global endorsements—wake up.
Carney is just Trudeau with a commerce degree. Same agenda, same priorities, just wrapped in a more business-speak package.

And then there’s Pierre Poilievre—who, let’s be honest, talks a big game but shows up as little more than a “PP” in the grand scheme of things. Loud in opposition, soft on substance. Another empty suit in a long line of them.

Meanwhile, the West is left holding the bag again.
We’re the engine that keeps this country moving—through agriculture, energy, industry—but we’re treated like an inconvenient outpost to be managed, not represented.

We have no real voice.
Not in the House.
Not in the press.
Not in the decisions that get made about how our work is taxed, how our resources are regulated, or how our values are dismissed.

Instead, the Canadian population is once again too busy obsessing over the “big bad monster” south of the border, pointing fingers at American politics, while we ignore the rot in our own backyard.

While they mock U.S. division, we’re watching our own nation quietly fracture along lines of geography, values, and representation.
But it’s easier to fear the elephant in the room next door than face the fact that we’re being governed by a system that no longer even pretends to respect the West.

So no—I’m not buying into the Carney illusion.
No—I don’t think Poilievre has what it takes.
And no—I don’t believe this country is headed anywhere good unless we start calling it for what it is.

We need leadership that respects the people who still build, haul, dig, grow, and fight.
Not more handlers, more PR, more fake federalism, and certainly not another smooth-talker in a better suit.

This is my take.
If it ruffles feathers—good.
If it makes someone uncomfortable—maybe it should.

Because out here in the West, we’ve been uncomfortable for a long damn time.

What Are We Teaching Our Kids? A Rant on Flags, Hockey, and Hypocrisy

Lately, some Canadian towns have been voting to remove the U.S. flag from hockey arenas, supposedly to make some kind of “statement.” But let’s take a step back and ask:

What kind of message are we sending to our kids?

We tell them to be fair, respectful, and good sports, yet we’re the ones acting small, bitter, and petty. We’re literally teaching them:

🔹 “Respect is conditional” – We’ll respect a flag only if it suits our mood today. Otherwise, it’s disposable.
🔹 “Sportsmanship is secondary to politics” – Hockey is supposed to bring people together, but now we’re using it as a battlefield for performative outrage.
🔹 “Contradictions are fine if they fit your narrative” – We’ll take down U.S. flags in protest, but we’ll still watch the NFL every Sunday, shop at U.S. stores, and stream U.S. media without a second thought.

What Happens When Kids Start Asking Questions?

How do we explain to them that we took down the U.S. flag out of spite, while American arenas still fly the Canadian flag out of respect?
How do we tell them that sports should be about unity, while we’re busy tearing down symbols of respect?
How do we justify being outraged at U.S. policies, but still consuming U.S. entertainment, sports, and products daily?

The Bottom Line?

This isn’t about patriotism or making a real change—this is about cheap, performative gestures that do nothing but breed division, hypocrisy, and childish tribalism.

If we really want our kids to grow up in a world where respect matters, sportsmanship is valued, and critical thinking still exists, then maybe we should start acting like the adults we expect them to become.

Otherwise, we’re just raising the next generation to believe that respect is just another tool for outrage. And that’s not something I’m okay with.

What do you think? Does this kind of behavior make Canada stronger, or just smaller?

The Algorithm Thinks for You – Do You Even Notice?

💀 You think you’re in control.
💀 You think you make your own decisions.
💀 You think you consume information freely.

But do you?


Step 1: The Death of Choice

🚨 Every time you open your phone, you aren’t choosing what to see.
🚨 The algorithm decides for you—what you read, what you watch, what you believe.
🚨 Your attention is being directed, manipulated, and sold.

🔹 Your search results aren’t neutral. They’re ranked based on what makes you stay longer.
🔹 Your news feed isn’t unbiased. It’s filtered to fit your engagement patterns.
🔹 Your recommendations aren’t random. They’re designed to reinforce what you already think.


Step 2: The Illusion of Thinking

Google doesn’t give you answers—it gives you the most clickable answers.
Social media doesn’t inform—it reinforces what you already believe.
Every platform wants one thing: your attention. Because attention = money.

🚨 The more predictable your behavior, the easier you are to control.


Step 3: Can You Break Free?

💡 Can you think for yourself when everything is designed to make you stop thinking?
💡 Can you question the narrative when the algorithm keeps feeding you what you want to hear?
💡 Can you see past the illusion, or are you just another programmed reaction?

The internet was supposed to make us smarter. Instead, it just made us easier to manage.

So, are you still thinking, or is the algorithm thinking for you?

There we are then.

The Death of Critical Thinking: How We Got Here

🚨 We are witnessing the death of critical thinking in real time.
Not because people can’t think—but because they no longer know how.

How Did We Get Here?

💀 Headlines replaced reading.
💀 Memes replaced research.
💀 Feelings replaced logic.

We don’t seek truth anymore—we seek confirmation.
We don’t challenge ideas—we attack the person who holds them.

The result? A society that reacts, rather than thinks.

What is Critical Thinking?

Critical thinking is the ability to analyze, evaluate, and form reasoned conclusions rather than accepting information at face value. It requires:

Questioning assumptions – Not just believing what you’re told.
Examining evidence – Looking for facts, not just opinions.
Recognizing biases – In yourself and in the information presented.
Thinking logically – Separating emotion from reason.
Considering different perspectives – Understanding before judging.

🚨 Why does it matter? Because in a world of clickbait, propaganda, and herd mentality, critical thinking is the only way to see through the noise.

“The essence of the independent mind lies not in what it thinks, but in how it thinks.” – Christopher Hitchens

This Is Just the Beginning

If you’ve made it this far, you’re already different. You already see what others refuse to. And maybe that’s enough. Maybe it isn’t.”

“Because the world isn’t getting smarter. It isn’t getting better. It isn’t waking up.”

“The only question is—do you?”

This space won’t just stop here.

💡 Technology and control.
💡 Power and manipulation.
💡 How we got here, where we’re headed, and what they aren’t telling you.

The topics will keep coming. The questions won’t stop. The thinking will continue.

More to come.

There we are then