They're Either At Your Throat...

...Or At Your Knees...

This post might seem a little unfair, but according to Germany's Der Spiegel, in an article entitled The World Bids Farewell to Obama (see it HERE):

"US President Barack Obama suffered a painful defeat in Massachusetts on Tuesday. With mid-term elections looming, it means that Obama will have to fundamentally re-think his political course. German commentators say it is THE END OF HOPE [!]"

Now, I don't want to be a Grumpy Gus, but the end of hope is the beginning of hopelessness. Just a cursory glance at the exhibition of hopelessness in Germany in the mid 20th century would lead one to think that German MSM drones would be more prudent in their word selection.

First, German hopelessness followed Germany's destruction in the 1914-1918 War. Then it led to other things, like squirming decadence and economic calamity, and its pictorial apex in German Expressionism, which makes the work of Val Luten seem like the work of Peter Max.

Then there was Albert Speer and Leni to revive grandiosity and hope, the little matter of their patrons, and their peccadillo today called World War II, and its vast charnel houses.

If there's one single thing for which I would condemn the blathering buffoon in The White House, it's the thing which cloaks all his other escapades and orthodoxies - the abuse of language in the manipulation and perpetuation of the romantic, fantastic mood already responsible for the pickles we're in. His avalanche of BS does nothing but expand the stupidity and further poison common language. The fool is a dangerous fool. He doesn't communicate, he has an act.

The painting, by the way, is by the hopeless German painter, George Grosz. It's entitled I Am Glad I Came Back, and was painted in 1943 as an allegory about the world of death loosed by German fascism.