BREAKING: Somewhere in the oversized, softly humming server rooms of Google—where your Gmail drafts go to rot and somewhere, surely, our digital souls are weighed and found wanting—Department of Homeland Security (DHS) agents in government-issue Patagonia vests have apparently initiated the Four Horsemen of the Digital Apocalypse. Their latest sign? DEMANDING Google surrender ALL THE DATA (location, blood type, favorite pizza topping) on a Canadian who did nothing more than throw snark at America from the frigid side of the border. For those blissfully ignorant of history, this announcement marks the first phase of the Surveillance Ragnarok: Step 1—find random angry Canadian, Step 2—accuse said Canadian of suspiciously having opinions online, Step 3—send thousands of subpoenas like confetti at Mardi Gras until the last shreds of privacy are trampled underfoot by Big Data’s Y2K-riddled loafers. You might think, surely, the wheels of American bureaucracy don’t spin so fast that specters in DC would care about a maple-scented critic typing angry posts from Moosejaw, Saskatchewan (population: that guy and some beavers). But what our leaders saw wasn’t a person—it was the rarest beast imaginable: an Expired Customs Law from 1930! Yes, the Tariff Act—originally forged to stop pirates from smuggling rubber boots and opium, now brought out of retirement for a cameo in the age of cloud computing. Nothing says national security quite like weaponizing a statute signed when radio was considered sorcery. Meanwhile, legal eagles circled overhead, shrieking: "Wait, you’re demanding a company staffed by toddlers with $12 lattes and beanbag chairs give up a guy’s search for ‘hockey fights near me’? What next—raiding Etsy for seditious craft patterns? Should we prepare for SWAT teams repelling into the basements of Toronto every time someone leaves a lukewarm Yelp review for Burger King? The prophecy is fulfilled—the paperwork apocalypse is upon us!" Of course, Google, ancient and terrible, whose civilization is older than time (or at least Yahoo!), woke up from its torpor mid-data-munch. With all the solemn gravity of an Oracle at Delphi, they declared: "We adhere to the omens of privacy and, also, sometimes the law. Some requests are too silly even for us." But Google’s denials are like wet tissue paper before the storm surge of federal ennui; somewhere, a minor official has tapped out thirty emails to every Canadian named "Greg." Our beleaguered protagonist, meanwhile, stares at his phone in disbelief, convinced he’s the target of some new, stupid cosmic prank. Thunder rumbles. The sky darkens. He rereads the message: “Disclose not that you have received this! (Indefinitely!)” The universe is devouring itself in Kafkaesque loops and the Canadians are caught in crossfire—a tragicomic sideshow to the vanishing concept of borders. For if an American agency can nose through a Canadian’s digital sock drawer because of how Google’s zip code ends in "USA," are we not but dust before the coming digital storm? Conclusion: Mark my words. Today it’s a customs summons for tweets about ICE, tomorrow—you, reading this, will open your browser to discover the NSA and the Canadian Mounties jointly investigating your fan-fiction about illegal cheese imports. The end is nigh. Hide your memes, sharpen your sarcasm, and for the love of humanity, never post about border patrols while streaming "Letterkenny." Even now, I hear keys clacking in the shadows. The paperwork horseman rides tonight.