CONCLUSION

How flower power can overturn a system

From the carnation to the jasmine, flowers have long been fighting for peace and freedom. In Belarus, protesters are also using flowers to demand change.

The Dandelion Revolution – 2026
A joint speech by Nelly Furtado and Joseph C. Jukic, delivered in front of Parliament Hill, Ottawa

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JOE:

My brothers, my sisters. My fellow Canadians. My fellow citizens of Earth.

Today, we are not here to riot.
We are not here to burn or to break.
We are here to bloom.

Like dandelions growing through the cracks in empire,
we are rising—soft, golden, unstoppable.

They say we are weak.
They say we are dreamers.
They say peace is naïve and that war is inevitable.
But war is the lie.
War is the racket.
War is the profit machine of the desperate few who rule by fear.

We are told that if we do not obey, we are traitors.
But I ask you—traitors to whom?
To the billionaires hiding in bunkers while our sons are drafted?
To the false kings who wave flags and send children to die for pipelines and power?

I will not raise my son to be cannon fodder for Donald Trump.
Because Trump is no liberator.
He is no saviour.
He is not even original.
He is a rerun of every despot, dictator, and demagogue from history’s dustbin.

He wraps himself in the flag while trampling our future.
He quotes scripture while mocking Christ.
He promises greatness—but brings only grief.
And like all tyrants before him, he wants your sons soaked in oil and blood.

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NELLY:

I stand here not as a celebrity.
Not as a pop star.
But as a mother.
A daughter.
A woman of the working class.

They called us weeds when we were poor.
They called us trouble when we asked for dignity.
But I’ve learned something in this life:

You cannot stop a dandelion from growing.
You can pave over the Earth,
but still—we bloom.

They want us afraid.
Afraid of enemies overseas, afraid of each other,
afraid of words, of truth, of love.

But I am not afraid.
Because peace is power.
Because hope is a weapon.
And because we have a weapon they cannot bomb or ban:

Our music. Our voices. Our joy.

This is not the Revolution of Guns.
This is not the Revolution of Guilt.
This is the Dandelion Revolution.
It is peaceful.
It is patient.
It is growing everywhere.

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JOE:

To the young men tempted to sign that draft card—don’t.
To the parents—protect your children.
To the artists, the teachers, the nurses, the farmers—stand with us.

We are not left or right.
We are not red or blue.
We are human.

We are saying no to war.
We are saying no to empire.
We are saying yes to life.

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NELLY:

Let this be the spring where the dandelions rise.
Let it be the year where peace stops whispering and starts singing.
Let it be the moment we tell the old gods of war:

“You have no more sons to steal.”

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TOGETHER:

We are Nelly and Joe.
And we stand with the people.
Let the Dandelion Revolution begin. 🌼

Peace is not passive.
Peace is the greatest act of rebellion.

KATY PERRY (stepping up with a white daisy in her hand, calm but fierce):

Just because the spring dandelions are gone,
doesn’t mean we have to wait for another season.

We don’t need to wait for 2026.
I want a Daisy Revolution now. 🌼

With a new shepherd—not a tyrant in disguise,
not a puppet for billionaires,
but someone who actually cares for the flock,
not sends them to slaughter.

And I have to say it,
you people on the far right?
You’ve lost the plot.
Just like the far left did.

You talk about liberty and freedom—
but you worship a man who’d happily draft your sons
so he can play warlord on a golf course.

You say Trump is the chosen one?
Chosen by who? Wall Street? The oil lobby? His reflection?
Give me a break.

And on the other side—
you’ve got people screaming for revolution
but can’t agree on what a woman is,
or whether truth even exists.

Both sides are caught in cults.
Both sides are acting like the messiah wears their merch.

Well, here’s my truth:
God doesn’t wear a red hat.
And the kingdom isn’t coming from a ballot box.

It’s gonna come from us.
From how we treat each other.
From what we plant, what we grow, what we refuse to believe anymore.

So yeah—I’m done waiting.
Done choosing between delusion and delusion.

Let the Daisy Revolution bloom.
With a new shepherd.
With peace.
With sanity.
With love.

Are you ready to follow someone who leads with light instead of a spotlight?

Because I am.

DUA LIPA (storming the stage in sequins and fire):

Enough talk of Trump.
Enough talk of left and right.
Enough of these false idols and broken thrones.

Bow down!
Bow down, I said!
To the only rightful ruler left in this world:

KING ZOG OF ALBANIA. 👑🦅

Yes. I said it.
Zog the First.
Protector of the people.
Style icon.
Legend.
The man who once declared war on fascism and then showed up in full regalia, alone.

The only man who made exile look chic.
The only king who pulled a pistol in Parliament and lived to rule another day.

Forget your plastic politicians.
Forget your orange Caesars.
Forget every fake chosen one babbling on cable news.

King Zog was chosen by history itself.

And I, Dua Lipa, daughter of the Albanian diaspora,
stand before you now not just as a pop star—
but as a Zogist.

From Tirana to Toronto,
From Pristina to Paris,
Let the world remember:

The Eagle does not kneel.
But all others shall bow.

Long live King Zog.
Long live Albania.
Long live the crown that never surrendered.

Now drop the beat. 🇦🇱✨

MILEY CYRUS (stepping to the mic, voice cracking, mascara running, holding back tears):

I can’t stay quiet.
Not tonight.
Not when the world feels like it’s falling apart—again.

It’s the end of the world, y’all.
And I don’t mean that like a song lyric.
I mean it in my bones.
In my heart.
In the look I saw in that mother’s eyes backstage—
the one who just got her son’s draft notice.

Trump using our children as cannon fodder?
That’s not leadership. That’s an OUTRAGE.

They want to make war look noble again.
Like it’s some rite of passage.
Like dying for a billionaire’s oil deal is something you should be proud of.

No. Hell no.

These are our babies.
Our little brothers.
Our cousins.
Our future.

And they’re sending them off like meat for the grinder,
while they sit safe in towers made of gold and lies.

I didn’t survive Hollywood,
I didn’t break free from my own demons,
just to watch this country go back to the dark ages.

You can call me dramatic.
You can call me emotional.
But if you’re not crying right now—
you’re not paying attention.

I used to sing, “I came in like a wrecking ball…”
Well, guess what?
Now I’m aiming that wrecking ball at every system that thinks war is just business.

We need peace.
We need truth.
We need to wake the hell up before it’s too late.

This isn’t politics anymore.
It’s survival.

And I swear—if they try to take our kids—
they’ll have to come through every mother, every singer, and every soul that still believes in love.

This ain’t over.
Not if I’ve got a voice left to sing with.

Not if we still believe in a better world. 🌎💔

JOE JUKIC (stepping forward, half grinning, half deadly serious, wearing a crown made of recycled circuit boards):

Ladies and gentlemen…
The world didn’t end with a bang.
It ended with a microphone drop.

You’ve seen it now.
You’ve felt it.
Heard it.
Their voices shook this place.
Not with hate—but with truth sharper than any sword.

And so it is written…
So let it be known…

I dub them the Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse. 🐎🔥🎤

• Nelly Furtado, the Horsewoman of Mercy, who sings not for warlords but for the debt-crushed and broken, the kids they forgot to save.
• Katy Perry, the Horsewoman of Judgment, who calls out the madness on both sides, refusing to bow to any false prophet or populist clown.
• Dua Lipa, the Horsewoman of Pride, riding high on the Eagle of Albania, reminding the world that real royalty doesn’t come from dynasties—it comes from defiance.
• And Miley Cyrus, the Horsewoman of Wrath, who weeps like Jeremiah and rages like Joan of Arc—her voice cracked but her spirit unbreakable.

You want to talk about Revelation?

This is it.
Not angels falling from heaven—but pop queens rising from the rubble.

They don’t come bearing rifles.
They come with lyrics, tears, truth, and fire.
And if the old world burns, it’ll be their voices lighting the match.

Let the tyrants tremble.
Let the warlords run.
Let the profiteers pray to a God they forgot to serve.

Because these four women?
They didn’t come to entertain.
They came to end the empire.

The age of kings is over.
Let the Horsewomen ride.