The Great Alberta Licence Makeover: Now Comes With Extra Racism!

By Donovan Martin, Sr. Editor in Chief

Alberta, land of big skies, bigger egos, and apparently, driver’s licences that now double as citizenship certificates, health records, and passive-aggressive morality tests. Danielle Smith’s government has proudly announced that every Albertan’s laminated ID will now confirm they are Canadian enough to exist, healthy enough to get stitches, and politically trustworthy enough to vote—because nothing says democracy like a plastic card that silently judges you in the pharmacy line.

The government insists this will “streamline services,” which is bureaucratic code for: “We want to micromanage your existence and sell you a new card at a price that makes your bank account cry quietly in the corner.” Forget about efficiency; this is about power, surveillance, and giving every Albertan the existential thrill of carrying a tiny piece of Big Brother in their wallet. If you were hoping your driver’s licence was just a boring rectangle of ID, think again—it’s now a golden ticket to Alberta’s new pastime: proving you’re worthy of life itself.

And the slogans! Oh, the slogans. I can see them plastered on billboards across Calgary and Edmonton, glowing in neon like a government-sponsored fever dream: “Alberta Licences: Now With Extra Racism™”, “Show Us Your Papers—With Prairie Pride™”, and the marketing masterpiece, “It’s Only Plastic: If You Don’t Like It, Cry in Your Cornfield™.” Never mind that producing millions of these cards costs millions of dollars. That’s efficiency! That’s streamlining! That’s Danielle Smith saying: “Look at this problem that doesn’t exist and spend taxpayer cash to fix it anyway—because I can!”

Albertans are naturally reacting with the perfect mix of anger and absurdity. Brent “Diesel” MacDougall, an oil rig worker from Fort McMurray, described his ordeal like a man narrating a tragicomedy: “I spent 27 days in mud, oil, and probably radioactive goose poop, and now the registry tells me my licence isn’t enough to prove I’m Canadian. Apparently, I need an extra card stamped with maple syrup and a signature from Wayne Gretzky’s ghost. Next week they’ll want my DNA, my social security, and a notarized note from the Prime Minister saying, ‘Yes, Brent, you belong in this country.’ I don’t even know what’s real anymore, buddy.”

Earl “Steakknife” Johnson, a cattle farmer near Lethbridge, had an even better one: “I sing ‘O Canada’ to my cows every morning, shovel manure until my boots leak, and now I have to pay money to prove I’m Canadian? Meanwhile, my prize bull, Bessie Trudeau, doesn’t need a passport. The government’s telling me my identity is worth more plastic than my cattle. If they make me prove I’m Canadian one more time, I’ll brand my forehead, tattoo my social security on my calves, and call it a day. Hell, maybe I’ll start selling these new licences as novelty coasters at the next Stampede—better return on investment than my cows!”

The absurdity doesn’t stop at personal inconvenience. Government officials have suggested that the new licences will somehow “fix” health care inefficiency. Because clearly, the problem isn’t overcrowded hospitals or underpaid staff; it’s that nurses can’t glance at a driver’s licence and know your citizenship before you get morphine. One can almost imagine a scene in an ER: “Hold on, sir, I see your leg is broken, but is your laminate Canadian enough to receive stitches?” Meanwhile, lost wallets become instant identity crises, as anyone who finds one can simultaneously vote, go to the hospital, and possibly buy a gun at Walmart, all under your name.

And don’t forget voter fraud. Alberta has had three cases since 2023, three. That’s fewer than the number of times your average Albertan has accidentally backed into a moose on the highway. Yet the government has decided to spend millions to issue millions of new licences, all to prevent something rarer than a snowflake in July, and we are not talking Liberals. It’s like burning down a barn because you saw a single fly. It’s elegant in its stupidity.

The propaganda potential is breathtaking. Imagine ad campaigns: a montage of Albertans holding their new licences with exaggerated pride while a voiceover says, “Alberta Driver’s Licences: Laminating Democracy, One Plastic Sheet at a Time™”. Or a jingle: “If you’re Canadian enough, flash it with pride, if you’re not, well… there’s always Saskatchewan™.” You can almost hear Danielle Smith giggling as the billboards go up, counting taxpayer dollars as if they were snowflakes in a blizzard, #Liberals.

Meanwhile, Albertans are left paying the price for this laminated panopticon. New licence fees, new bureaucracy, new opportunities for government surveillance—all justified with a shrug and a smile: “It’s only plastic, folks. Relax. And don’t worry about climate change; we have oil byproducts to make all this plastic anyway. Efficiency!” Nothing screams Canadian pragmatism like turning environmental disasters into voter control devices.

So laugh, Alberta. Laugh until your belly aches like it’s been kicked by a drunken draft horse. Laugh while thinking about the fact that your government just made a piece of plastic the most powerful object in your life. Your health, your vote, your dignity—it all comes laminated now. And if you’re upset, remember: Danielle Smith says it’s “only plastic.” If that doesn’t settle your existential panic, well… maybe try singing ‘O Canada’ to your licence, pay your fee, and pray your cattle don’t get jealous.