Schwab The Decks: How PMJT Fell For The Master

The hapless smile. The splattered pancake dough. The sheepish shrug in his faux cowboy outfit. Video of PM Justin Trudeau botching a pancake flip during Calgary Stampede has gone viral. In his defence, Trudeau’s advance staff should have known that you always get your man a cooked pancake to flip.

But that fits the Trudeau profile, too. Despite eight years as PM he’s surrounded himself with sycophants rather than people who know their job is to protect him from his vanity. It’s one of the reasons you have kept him away from real people, surrounding him with staffers. They can’t even get a simple photo op right. 

As his popularity outside his 514/613/416 loyalists plummets and the world mocks him there have been many attempts to understand why and how this man with the splattered pancake batter is still PM. When friendly Ottawa analysts examine him now they use comparisons to his father. His virulent enemies cite Mao, Stalin and other totalitarians like his “uncle” Fidel Castro.

A more apt explanation of the Trudeau personality is that he’s a Scientologist in another suit.  His lack of credentials, his failures to work for more than a term as a teacher. His assumption of costumes and tropes to fill some inner need. He’s the perfect target for a mind-control group like L. Ron Hubbard’s Scientology. An empty vessel looking for a fill-up. 

But in this case the loopy globalist mindfuck is Klaus Schwab’s elitist WEF club. The army of unfulfilled upper-class twits like Trudeau who are mules to carry  his moonshine. For Trudeau, the empty vessel, Schwab was Hubbard, a dominant prophet of all educated things he wanted to be but couldn’t get his brain around. 

Schwab exchanged Justin’s prep-school frippery for a fake-prophet’s cloak, gifting Justin with climate science and centralized economics he barely understands let alone can explain. You can see the ascension as Schwab plucks him from frat boy to three-time prime minister of a country he mournfully calls “racist” and “genocidal”. In thanks Justin added to Canada’s $5.3 billion climate finance pledge (translation money laundering scheme) , which the country doubled in 2021.

Like his Calgary visit, Trudeau’s life is now a series of photo ops and speaking notes from the WEF, received by an equally gullible media. (Schwab brags about “penetrating” the Canadian Cabinet.) He has lots of company among the ranks of place servers in Western governments, vapid characters desirous of a grand philosophy to fill their empty souls. 

As just one example, look at the now-deposed Dutch prime minister Mark Rutte, whose brainwave was that cow farts are killing the planet and so he must repossess the fertile farmland won back from the North Sea. How’d that work out, Mark?

We were reminded of the Scientology analogy watching Paul Thomas Anderson’s chilling The Master. In this acclaimed 2012 film Joaquin Phoenix’s character Freddie Quell is a former soldier with PTSD drifting from one catastrophe to another. After poisoning a fellow farmworker with moonshine he stows away on the yacht of Lancaster Dobbs, founder of something called The Cause. Instead of tossing Quells overboard Dobbs takes a liking to the drifter, seeing something in him that can be molded.

Dodd submits Freddie to "Processing", in which he asks Freddie disturbing psychological questions. An unhinged Freddie is soon travelling with the Dodd family, filling himself with Dodd’s bafflegab, spouting the orthodoxy. Despite warnings from Dodd’s own family that Dad is a fraud, Freddie is soon physically intimidating anyone who dares question Dodd’s program. At one point Freddie winds up in jail for assaulting a police officer who’s getting in the way of Dodd’s hokum.

After briefly leaving the cult Freddie returns, chastened. Dodd says that if Freddie can find a way to live without a master, any master, then he is to "let the rest of us know”, because he will be the first person in history to do so. Freddie eventually accepts his hopeless state, and his life spins out of control. 

Like Freddie, Trudeau is now learning the downside of embracing a holistic crock about “carbon taxes” from a rich middle-European poseur. The hosannas he expected for his vision are being replaced by grumbling over the latest Carbon Tax as the product of a dim, impulsive authoritarian. His costume dramas are the laughingstock of foreign diplomats. 

Sure, there are still many who see him as he wishes to be seen— and as they see themselves. Visionary. Brave. Bespoke. But there are increasing numbers that see the botched pancake flip, not the globalist leader, as closer to the truth. A stick figure surrounded by incompetents who can’t put one foot right. An actor in his own failed psychodrama.

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Bruce Dowbiggin @dowbboy is the editor of Not The Public Broadcaster  A two-time winner of the Gemini Award as Canada's top television sports broadcaster, he’s a regular contributor to Sirius XM Canada Talks Ch. 167. Inexact Science: The Six Most Compelling Draft Years In NHL History, his new book with his son Evan, was voted the seventh-best professional hockey book of all time by bookauthority.org . His 2004 book Money Players was voted sixth best on the same list, and is available via http://brucedowbigginbooks.ca/book-personalaccount.aspx