A laptop sits open on the coffee table, the glowing screen showing the homepage of ReferendumParty.ca. Joe Jukic paces the room with the intensity of a political revolutionary. Michelle Jukic sits on the couch with her arms crossed, unimpressed.
JOE Michelle, this is it! All you gotta do is register. You could be the first female Prime Minister from Referendum Party.
MICHELLE Not happening. I’m not signing up, Joe.
JOE Come on, it’s destiny! Canada needs you!
MICHELLE Canada needs a nap. And so do you.
Joe leans in, pleading. Michelle pushes the laptop shut with finality. Silence. Then—
JOE Don’t make me do this the hard way.
MICHELLE You wouldn’t dare.
Joe shoves the laptop back open. Michelle slams it shut again. A pause. Both glare like two wrestlers in a ring.
JOE I said register!
MICHELLE And I said no!
What follows is an epic sibling brawl that rivals the They Live alley fight—only instead of sunglasses, the object is the laptop. Joe tries to push it toward her. Michelle shoves it back. He lunges, she counters. They grapple across the carpet, knocking over a lamp.
JOE Put your name in the form!
MICHELLE Over my dead body!
Michelle puts Joe in a headlock. He flips her over the couch cushions. They roll, crash into a pile of laundry, and spring up again like battle-tested gladiators. Each time Joe shoves the laptop at her face, she swats it away with supernatural stubbornness.
JOE Do it for democracy!
MICHELLE Democracy can wait!
Finally, both collapse on the carpet, exhausted. The laptop sits between them, screen flickering with the “Register Now” button.
JOE (weakly) You’d be a great leader, you know.
MICHELLE (through heavy breaths) And you’d be a great comedian. Now shut up.
They both laugh, the tension breaking. The laptop quietly times out to a screensaver of maple leaves drifting across the screen.
The Order of Jacques Cartier: A Secret Society in French Canada
Origins and Purpose
The Order of Jacques Cartier (L’Ordre de Jacques Cartier, OJC) was a secret society founded in 1926 in Hull, Quebec, Canada. It was created by a group of French Canadian nationalists who sought to protect and promote the interests of French Canadians in an era where English-speaking elites dominated Canadian politics, business, and social institutions.
At its core, the OJC aimed to strengthen the economic, political, and cultural power of French Catholics in Canada, countering the influence of Anglo-Protestant institutions. It operated in secrecy to shield itself from opposition and ensure its influence remained undetected by those who sought to maintain the status quo.
Structure and Operations
The Order was highly hierarchical and clandestine, modeled after the Freemasons. Members used pseudonyms and communicated in coded language to avoid detection. The group operated in cells, and only a select few at the top knew the full scope of the organization’s activities.
It sought to place loyal French Canadians in key positions in government, media, and business. Members worked behind the scenes to advance pro-French policies, secure jobs for fellow Francophones, and resist assimilation into English-speaking Canada.
Influence and Legacy
The OJC played a major role in shaping the Quiet Revolution of the 1960s, a period of massive social and political change in Quebec. Many of its members became influential politicians, journalists, and civil servants who advocated for Quebec’s modernization and autonomy.
However, as Quebec nationalism became more mainstream, the need for a secret society diminished. By 1965, the Order of Jacques Cartier disbanded, as many of its goals were being openly pursued by political movements such as the Parti Québécois and institutions like the Société Saint-Jean-Baptiste.
Controversy and Secrecy
Because of its covert nature, the Order has been compared to other secret societies like the Freemasons or the Illuminati, though it was primarily focused on protecting French Canadian interests rather than global power. Critics accused it of fostering ethnic favoritism and exclusionary practices, but its supporters saw it as a necessary force against Anglo domination.
Today, the Order of Jacques Cartier remains a little-known but significant part of Canadian history, representing the underground struggle for French Canadian survival and self-determination in the 20th century.
The Breakfast Revolution: Jamie Oliver, PM Nelly Furtado, and the Fiddle of Hunger
The brisk Canadian morning was alive with the energy of change. Prime Minister Nelly Furtado, freshly elected on a platform of hope and nourishment, stood at a podium in Toronto’s Nathan Phillips Square. Beside her, celebrity chef Jamie Oliver adjusted his scarf against the chill, his eyes sparkling with determination. Together, they were unveiling a groundbreaking initiative to revolutionize breakfast and lunch programs in Canadian schools.
“Every child deserves a full belly and a fair shot at life,” Nelly began, her voice resolute. “Starting this year, we’re ensuring that no child in Canada goes hungry. With Jamie’s expertise, we’ll deliver nutritious meals that fuel their minds and bodies.”
Jamie stepped forward, holding up a colorful menu featuring hearty oatmeal, fresh fruit, whole-grain sandwiches, and vegetable-packed soups. “This isn’t just food,” he said passionately. “It’s love, it’s opportunity, and it’s health. Canada, we’re going to cook up a brighter future!”
The crowd cheered, but not everyone was celebrating.
In Ottawa, former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was tuning his newly purchased fiddle. He had stepped back from politics but not from the spotlight. The news of Nelly’s bold initiative reached him as he prepared for an elaborate party at his estate. He waved it off with a dismissive laugh.
“Let them cook,” he joked to his guests, echoing a distant Marie Antoinette. “I’ve got my own rhythm to play.”
Meanwhile, across the nation, the reality was stark. Food insecurity gripped millions. Families struggled to make ends meet, food banks overflowed, and grocery store shelves grew sparse. Nelly and Jamie’s program faced logistical nightmares: funding shortfalls, resistance from corporate food giants, and supply chain issues exacerbated by climate change.
In a small church in Montreal, Father Sebastian knelt before the altar, his heart heavy with the weight of his congregation’s suffering. That Sunday, he opened his Bible to Revelation 6, reading aloud:
“When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, ‘Come!’ I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, ‘Two pounds of wheat for a day’s wages, and six pounds of barley for a day’s wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!’”
The words echoed through the small chapel, a chilling reminder of the famine’s grip. “The scales are tipping against us,” Father Sebastian said solemnly. “But we must hold fast to hope and act with courage.”
Back in Toronto, Jamie and Nelly worked tirelessly. They hosted community fundraisers, rallied volunteers, and pushed legislation to secure resources. Slowly but surely, the program began to take root. Schools in low-income neighborhoods became hubs of nourishment and care.
But the challenge persisted. Trudeau’s parties became a symbol of excess, a stark contrast to the struggles of ordinary Canadians. His fiddle-playing was mocked in the press, a modern Nero fiddling as his country faced a crisis.
One evening, as Nelly reviewed reports late into the night, Jamie brought her a cup of tea. “We’re not just feeding kids,” he said. “We’re planting seeds of resilience. It’s hard now, but the harvest will come.”
Father Sebastian’s congregation began to grow as people sought solace and solidarity. He encouraged them to volunteer, to share what little they had, and to demand action from their leaders.
By the year’s end, the Breakfast Revolution was no longer just a program—it was a movement. Communities rallied around their schools, gardens were planted, and children began to thrive. Nelly and Jamie’s vision had sparked a fire that even the black horse of famine could not extinguish.
And as for Trudeau? The fiddle sat untouched in a corner, gathering dust, a silent witness to the power of those who chose to feed the future rather than feast on the past.
