A cri de coeur
(about the utter dearth of Euro-statesmen) and good advice from Dan Henninger
in the WSJ. Don’t expect the present Motley Crüe to take any notice but doubtless they’ll find
a way to while away the day in Cabo.
Der
Spiegel gives us a German perspective on la malattia d’Italia. Through the
looking glass.
A game of
poker seems like a mistaken characterization of the Euro-mess. Politicians long
gone bequeathed us alles dieses Ungeheuerlichkeit and deliberately designed a
Titanic without any lifeboats. Now we are all facing the consequences for which
there is no good remedy. In fact there is likely no remedy in the world of
reality. Unrealistic expectations, panacea politicians, flouting of the
supposed rules all along, kicking the can endlessly down a cul-de-sac, demagoguery
à l’outrance,
and just plain old wishful thinking have brought us all to the point where the road
runs out am Abgrund entlang. Very hard to see how sauve qui peût isn’t all that remains. There’s no bluff and
counter-bluff going on. The players say what they mean and mean what they say,
irrational as it and they may be, and believe they have the hand to prove it.
When the cards are turned over all that’s left is MAD. A doctrine which might have
averted a Cold War holocaust but which is sorely wanting in keeping most of Euro-land
out of the ditch. MAD says you stay well away from the edge. But Greece, inter
alia, signed up for politicians intent on a cushy life for themselves und eines
freies Mittagessen ewig für jeder. The Greeks are far from unique but
combined with rampant corruption, protectionism, tax-evasion and sundry other
sins, they’ve reached the brink first. No one, certainly not Frau Angela, has
any obligation to save them from themselves. They’ll just have to go figure
starting Monday. Maybe Tsipras has the answers but I very much doubt it.
However, be not surprised if Papoulias is calling on him come Monday to form a
government. He’s very unlikely to succeed but the same can be said for Samaras.
If you
thought Carla was tacky (and Italian), just see what two French princesses de
la gauche can do without even trying.
Mrs.
Merkel is giving the French as good as she received from brainless idiot M. Mountebank
yesterday. She seems to be saying, “L’Empereur n’a pas des vêtements”. Probably because one of his
mistresses has torn them up and exfenestrated them all over the Rue du Faubourg.
Reading between the lines she’s also telling M. Blancmange that if he can’t
even handle a couple of French kittens, he has no hope against a German tigress.
Merkel, relishing the idea of emulating Maggie and hitting M. Pompeux le Président with her handbag. What will Paris-Match
make of all this, let alone Le Canard Enchâiné? Where is that Gallic sense of humour? Dashing
off to Rome in the presidential airbus to play footsie with Mario I obviously
didn’t impress the Chancellor either. Just another day in the Waste Land (die
verbrannte Erde) of the Euro.
Summer
surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a
shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
+ + +
"Schon
ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten (und Westen) Europas auf
dem
Wege zum
Chaos, fährt betrunken im heiligem Wahn am Abgrund entlangund singt dazu, singt betrunken und hymnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang.
Über diese Lieder lacht der Bürger beleidigt, der Heilige
und Seher hört sie mit Tränen."
With
apologies to HH.
Simon
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