Each year about this time, Senior Discourse Contributor, Neil Cameron, provides friends and readers with a characteristically witty piece of doggerel musing on the passage and meaning of recent events. This year we find ourselves singing to the tune of “Onward Christian Soldiers” and it goes like this:

Onward, green millennials, fearing global heat;

But the old and sceptic, aren’t much in retreat.

Cars must be el-ectric, driverless as well;

Couples on their bi-kes slick, driving trucks as well.

Onward green millennials, in Suzuki’s spell.

Onward, active natives, blocking all pipelines;

Trees get super-latives, trumping wells and mines.

Down with rich employ-ers, up with tribal pride,

Bring on hordes of law-yers, rising nationwide.

Onward active natives, surfing on green tide.

Onward tory Pre-miers, hearing voters’ groans;

Out with Lib’ral drea-miers, on their Chinese phones.

Ford fights carbon ta-xes, Legault limits pot,

Western NDP ax-is, sighs and joins the lot.

Onward tory Pre-miers, battles to be fought.

Onward profs in col-lege, fearing sullen mobs;

Not much seeking know-ledge, just in search of jobs.

Finding grounds for of-fense, now a classroom skill,

Aiding all the more dense, now enact their will.

Onward, profs in col-lege, some teach thinking still.

Onward, Marg’ret A-twood, and the Canlit horde;

Dreaming of book prizes, at the festal board.

Divers’ty’s their watchword, white males now all dead;

Prize money their pa-ssword, only few get read.

Onward, Canlit legions, begging still for bread.

Onward, pipeline buil-ders, oil sands workers, too;

Though new world bewil-ders, seen as witches’ brew.

Black gold just stays black lead, if not reaching ports;

Greens and natives now are wed, and blocking oil in courts.

Onward pipeline buil-ders, wailing at aborts.

Onward, Justin Tru-deau, no more fancy dress;

Trips have not won kudos, dance did not impress.

Once inviting masses in, swamped by refugees,

All have had their classes in his apologies.

Onward, saintly Justin, but less saintly, please.

Onward, all to-gether, Canada rolls on;

While we wonder whether, facing dark or dawn.

Join in Christmas so-ng fests , as at modest price,

We can bear these sma-ll pests, just by staying nice.

Onward bless’d Canad-a. humdrum paradise.

(Neil’s piece, along with his other historical essays are first posted on the Montreal e-journal, Prince Arthur Herald.)