Oh, boy. I thought pre-emptively awarding Obama the Nobel Pleas Prize was the feeblest, most child-like display of “please, daddy, don’t euthanize Fluffy the Furniture Slayer,” imaginable, and then the fucking pig farmers hand one to the economic collapse known as Europe, which means bombs are being autographed as I type. Don’t say you didn’t have a seat at the table of this end-of-growth, post-industrial horror show. How ’bouts we start off this nine-course, debt-deflationary extravaganza with some tasty civil wars in the peripheries as central bankers tighten their sphincters around your neck? Talk about a kiss of death…
