Dave Bradley, Chief Revenue Officer of Bitcoin WellIf you want a litmus test for how broken Canada’s institutions are, look no further than British Columbia’s latest disgrace: the impending state-sanctioned slaughter of hundreds of ostriches.In a stunning act of bureaucratic brutality, the B.C. government — with the blessing of the courts — has decided that mass extermination is preferable to negotiation, relocation, or even basic common sense. Their justification? A single bird tested positive for avian flu. Their method? Shotguns. Their message? Obey, or be erased.This isn’t about birds. It’s about power. The state had a choice: work with the farmer to find a humane, rational solution or flex its monopoly on violence. Predictably, it chose the latter..This is the ostrich in the coal mine: a loud, flapping signal that Canada, as we knew it, is gone.Courts are supposed to protect citizens from government overreach. Instead, they now serve as rubber stamps for bureaucratic enforcement. The federal judge in this case didn’t just approve the government’s plan — he handed them a hunting license.The farmer, Chris Palliser, tried to cooperate. He offered to quarantine the birds. Animal sanctuaries stepped up, willing to rehome them safely. He sought a legal reprieve. He used his voice, his wallet, and his rights as a citizen to propose alternatives.The government responded with a stubborn refusal to consider anything that might challenge its playbook..Meanwhile, Liberal voters from downtown Toronto condos keep their heads buried deep in the sand, convinced everything is just fine so long as the state smiles while it sharpens the knife.The CFIA, like most federal agencies, operates on autopilot. It doesn’t care that ostriches aren’t chickens. It doesn’t care that no other birds on the farm showed symptoms. It follows rigid protocols built for industrial poultry operations, applying them to unique animals as if context doesn’t matter.Public health theater has become the catch-all excuse for this kind of cruelty. Whether it’s lockdowns, border closures, or animal culls, there’s always a “science-based” reason for absolute state control. But this wasn’t science. It was laziness, institutionalized..Some Albertans may yet dismiss this as “a B.C. thing.” That’s naïve. What happens in one province sets precedent for the others. Bureaucratic overreach doesn’t stop at the border. If the federal government can order a mass kill under flimsy pretences in Edgewood, it can do the same in Calgary, Edmonton, or your own backyard.We saw the same playbook during the trucker protests and throughout the pandemic. Exceptional measures become normalized and the public is told to sit down, shut up, and be grateful.This is why Alberta needs to chart its own course. When governments reach the point where killing innocent animals is more convenient than listening to the people, we’re not talking about a free country anymore. We’re talking about a bureaucratic state that’s lost its soul and its mind..Alberta doesn’t need symbolic gestures. It needs real independence — legal, economic, and cultural. That means building our own institutions. It means saying no to Ottawa. It means refusing to let federal courts and federal agencies make decisions that affect our land and our lives.And if that kind of talk makes the psychotic, anti-human Laurentian elites squirm, good. Their comfort is not our concern.Let’s talk about real sovereignty for a moment: monetary sovereignty. That’s what Bitcoin represents. It isn’t just a volatile asset or a meme — it’s an escape hatch. While the government prints money to fund foreign wars, corporate bailouts, and, apparently, the mass slaughter of livestock, Bitcoin gives individuals a way out.Holding your own keys means holding your own power. You don’t have to ask permission. You don’t have to trust the same institutions that treat farmers like criminals and animals like disposable assets. .That’s why Bitcoin and Alberta independence belong in the same conversation. Both are peaceful forms of resistance. Both terrify the control freaks in Ottawa. And both are becoming more attractive by the day.You don’t have to be a farmer to see the writing on the wall. The government’s plan to kill these birds — despite clear and humane alternatives — wasn’t an isolated error. It was a glimpse into how cold and unaccountable the system has become.The farmer’s crime? He tried to find a better way. The government’s solution? Silence him with legal authority, ignore the public outrage, and proceed with lethal force.As the feathers settle, the bureaucrats will carry on, unbothered and untouched. That is, unless we make it stop.We can continue down this road of managed decline, or we can wake up. We can keep our heads in the sand like so many urban progressives, or we can take responsibility for our future.For Albertans, the path is obvious.Get out. Get free. Opt out.Because today it’s ostriches. Tomorrow, it’s your freedom.Dave Bradley, Chief Revenue Officer of Bitcoin Well.
Dave Bradley, Chief Revenue Officer of Bitcoin WellIf you want a litmus test for how broken Canada’s institutions are, look no further than British Columbia’s latest disgrace: the impending state-sanctioned slaughter of hundreds of ostriches.In a stunning act of bureaucratic brutality, the B.C. government — with the blessing of the courts — has decided that mass extermination is preferable to negotiation, relocation, or even basic common sense. Their justification? A single bird tested positive for avian flu. Their method? Shotguns. Their message? Obey, or be erased.This isn’t about birds. It’s about power. The state had a choice: work with the farmer to find a humane, rational solution or flex its monopoly on violence. Predictably, it chose the latter..This is the ostrich in the coal mine: a loud, flapping signal that Canada, as we knew it, is gone.Courts are supposed to protect citizens from government overreach. Instead, they now serve as rubber stamps for bureaucratic enforcement. The federal judge in this case didn’t just approve the government’s plan — he handed them a hunting license.The farmer, Chris Palliser, tried to cooperate. He offered to quarantine the birds. Animal sanctuaries stepped up, willing to rehome them safely. He sought a legal reprieve. He used his voice, his wallet, and his rights as a citizen to propose alternatives.The government responded with a stubborn refusal to consider anything that might challenge its playbook..Meanwhile, Liberal voters from downtown Toronto condos keep their heads buried deep in the sand, convinced everything is just fine so long as the state smiles while it sharpens the knife.The CFIA, like most federal agencies, operates on autopilot. It doesn’t care that ostriches aren’t chickens. It doesn’t care that no other birds on the farm showed symptoms. It follows rigid protocols built for industrial poultry operations, applying them to unique animals as if context doesn’t matter.Public health theater has become the catch-all excuse for this kind of cruelty. Whether it’s lockdowns, border closures, or animal culls, there’s always a “science-based” reason for absolute state control. But this wasn’t science. It was laziness, institutionalized..Some Albertans may yet dismiss this as “a B.C. thing.” That’s naïve. What happens in one province sets precedent for the others. Bureaucratic overreach doesn’t stop at the border. If the federal government can order a mass kill under flimsy pretences in Edgewood, it can do the same in Calgary, Edmonton, or your own backyard.We saw the same playbook during the trucker protests and throughout the pandemic. Exceptional measures become normalized and the public is told to sit down, shut up, and be grateful.This is why Alberta needs to chart its own course. When governments reach the point where killing innocent animals is more convenient than listening to the people, we’re not talking about a free country anymore. We’re talking about a bureaucratic state that’s lost its soul and its mind..Alberta doesn’t need symbolic gestures. It needs real independence — legal, economic, and cultural. That means building our own institutions. It means saying no to Ottawa. It means refusing to let federal courts and federal agencies make decisions that affect our land and our lives.And if that kind of talk makes the psychotic, anti-human Laurentian elites squirm, good. Their comfort is not our concern.Let’s talk about real sovereignty for a moment: monetary sovereignty. That’s what Bitcoin represents. It isn’t just a volatile asset or a meme — it’s an escape hatch. While the government prints money to fund foreign wars, corporate bailouts, and, apparently, the mass slaughter of livestock, Bitcoin gives individuals a way out.Holding your own keys means holding your own power. You don’t have to ask permission. You don’t have to trust the same institutions that treat farmers like criminals and animals like disposable assets. .That’s why Bitcoin and Alberta independence belong in the same conversation. Both are peaceful forms of resistance. Both terrify the control freaks in Ottawa. And both are becoming more attractive by the day.You don’t have to be a farmer to see the writing on the wall. The government’s plan to kill these birds — despite clear and humane alternatives — wasn’t an isolated error. It was a glimpse into how cold and unaccountable the system has become.The farmer’s crime? He tried to find a better way. The government’s solution? Silence him with legal authority, ignore the public outrage, and proceed with lethal force.As the feathers settle, the bureaucrats will carry on, unbothered and untouched. That is, unless we make it stop.We can continue down this road of managed decline, or we can wake up. We can keep our heads in the sand like so many urban progressives, or we can take responsibility for our future.For Albertans, the path is obvious.Get out. Get free. Opt out.Because today it’s ostriches. Tomorrow, it’s your freedom.Dave Bradley, Chief Revenue Officer of Bitcoin Well.
