GSTAAD—For a cultural pessimist such as myself, things have never looked rosier. With economic depression, unemployment, environmental disasters, and endless armed conflicts, modern civilization’s final destruction is nigh. As a prophet of pessimism, I can hardly conceal my glee at being right, but I pray nonstop that I’m wrong.
That there’s a cultural decay in a declining West is hardly worth debating. A powerless and increasingly cretinized citizenry has been brainwashed into a state of domesticated conformity, with unelected technocrats totally controlling their lives.
Even the super-rich are basically slaves. Bernie Ecclestone may be a billionaire four times over, but he’s a small man in many respects, chained to his BlackBerry as he drives himself around Gstaad oblivious to the fact he might get lost in a snowdrift. Another neighbor just bought his wife a $45-million Gulfstream V to go along with her latest plastic surgery. A Saudi has carved his family tree outside his chalet—thank God the tree is short and so ugly, even dogs won’t pee on it. And the poor little Greek boy has wasted three months of hard training by going on a weeklong Karamazovian binge. But rumors of Roman Abramovich having bought in Gstaad are untrue, and thank God he remains with his entourage far away in St Barts. (Further good news is that the onetime plastic-duck salesman’s hard-earned stolen moolah is not helping his football team much.)
Gstaad’s locals can’t seem to be bothered either way. The disgustingly glitzy nouveaux riche’s motto around these parts seems to be, “What—me worry?”
What everyone’s talking about here is—surprise, surprise—the euro. The doomed currency’s latest frantic prop-up has the morons seeing glimmers of hope and plunging into stocks, bonds, and commodities, thus pushing prices higher. Then the bad news emerges and nervous investors dump their positions quicker than you can say, “sucker.” Then the whole cycle begins all over again. Yet they continue to discuss it ad nauseam everywhere, driving sensitive souls such as myself to the highest slopes to get away from these so-called Wall Street geniuses.
The Gstaad elite hasn’t noticed the latest insult the Brussels crooks foisted on us. The EU now claims to allow for blocs to make changes in order to head off veto trouble. It is yet another ploy, another trick, another big lie, as cynical as the one that saw nations vote and vote again until the Lisbon Treaty was approved. What they mean by “less EU” is there will be more Germany and France regulating our lives. Can you imagine being told how to live by an egregious megalomaniac midget such as Sarkozy and a German frau who would make love to her own husband in an orgy?
More austerity measures will only fuel political and social tensions. Take it from Taki. This will be known as the Lost Decade, with Southern Europe becoming more of a basket case, if that is possible. Global governance sounds like a grand idea, but it is a sucker’s game played by con men and would-be tinpot dictators with a small “d.” We are the cretins whose elite leaders think today’s issues are too complex for our tiny brains, much less our informed consent. Look at the diplomats around Geneva and Brussels in their limos, first-class air travel, and extravagant salaries. Not one of these bums has given up any of their material comforts, yet they demand austerity. And you-know-who pays their expenses.
When I read of a Greek mother begging for some insulin for her diabetic son because she couldn’t afford it—doctors had lucrative deals with drug manufacturers who insist on up-front payment—I came close to losing it. Greece’s fat cats continue to get fatter; not a single crook has gone to jail or even been charged, yet the obese socialist finance minister called Venizelos demands more sacrifices.
Greece will go down, as will Portugal and most likely Italy, then I hope Europe splinters and the euro goes the way of Haiti’s currency, whatever that is. Am I being too pessimistic? I don’t think so.
Take Gstaad’s latest import, Madonna, who dropped by for the holidays with some youngsters in tow who made Michael Jackson look like a gerontophile. Someone sat next to her at dinner and told me she was polite and pleasant. She even skied. Yet it’s people such as her who made their reputation by using decadent images of sadomasochism—extolling barbarism, crudeness, and anti-Christian attitudes—to generate an antibourgeois image. She deprecated and vilified most things that bourgeois people hold sacred, made her millions, and now can relax among us here in Gstaad enjoying our bourgeois comforts. And why not? Our society encourages people to deliberately invert what’s bad to good.
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