The Department of Obsolete Industry: Keeping Canada’s Future Stuck in the Past
At the Department of Obsolete Industry (DOI), we know that letting the market dictate the economy doesn’t always make good business sense. That’s why we go to great lengths to shield some of Canada’s most politically important industries from the fickle and treacherous nature of consumer demand.
Through cutting-edge innovation and generous distribution of taxpayer dollars, the DOI keeps Canadian businesses afloat—often for years after total collapse in market demand for their goods and services.
Seal Blubber Innovation Initiative: “Bringing Canada Back to the Blubber” The Department of Obsolete Industry is working diligently to resurrect Canada’s commercial seal harvest by reconnecting Canadians with their glorious, blubber-scented history. Canadians once cooked their favourite dishes in the fish-fragranced blubber and bathed in soap rendered from it. Great metropoles the world over lit their streets with our nation’s seal fat.
However, in recent years Canadians (and the rest of the misguided world) have begun to favour newfangled vegetable-based cooking oils and lavender-scented body soaps, pumping money into the foreign-controlled lavender markets. The spread in the use of electricity has meant that fewer and fewer Canadians spend their evenings reading by the warm glow of a seal blubber-burning lamp. Add to this that consumers around the world have been brainwashed into believing they don’t actually need seal products, and many would forecast the death of this once mighty industry.
That’s where the DOI comes in. Empowered by millions of Canadian tax dollars and very little oversight, our Seal Blubber Innovation Tax Credits will put modern, urban Canadians back in touch with their grease-stained seal hunting history. To date, our department has spent over 34 million dollars to prolong the death of the commercial seal harvest, and we are committed to spending much more.
At the pinnacle of the video cassette 25 years ago, millions of video tapes were watched by Canadians on a daily basis. Canadians proudly rewound more videocassettes per capita than any other country in the world. Fathers and sons would spend weekends together cleaning VCR tapeheads, cementing their relationships in the process. Some would say the nation itself came together around the storage of video on magnetic tape. So when VCR sales began to plummet, the tradition of kindly rewinding fell under threat, putting dozens of Canadians out of work. That’s when DOI Canada stepped in. With tens of millions of Canadian tax dollars earmarked to stockpile tapes, DOI Canada remains at the forefront of awaiting the downfall of digital and the inevitable return of analog.
Remember when picking up the telephone could open up a window into the intimate lives of your neighbours? When eavesdropping was far more accessible, and you didn’t need to stare at the cold glow of a computer screen to chat with friends? Party lines were the original social media, and the DOI is working diligently to restore their proper place in the daily lives of Canadians. So forget Facebook, soon Canadians young and old will flock to party lines to chat, plan social events, and entertain themselves with good old fashioned spying. Nothing brings people together like the time-honoured tradition of a shared telephone line, and we are confident this technology will soon replace the internet.
In times past, Canadians would clad their calves in skintight stockings. This brazen show of the strong Canadian calf was a heroic form of dress known as “the pantaloon.” But full length pants were foisted onto Canadian fashion by countries with weaker, unappealing lower legs. Sartorialists in Paris desired nothing more than to hide the thick strong calf that Canadians had earned for themselves with their long hours of toil. As a result the pantaloon industry, and with it public recognition of the strong Canadian calf, were all but lost. The Department of Obsolete Industry, however, brought the pantaloon industry back from the brink. The Pantaloon Protection Plan teaches the nation’s tailors, seamstresses, and drycleaners the nearly lost art of calf-exposed pant-hemming.