Gstaad
For a cultural pessimist like myself, things have never looked rosier. Economic depression, unemployment, environmental disasters, wars and armed conflicts: with the final destruction of modern civilisation just around the corner, I can hardly conceal my glee at being right. Mind you, as a modern prophet of pessimism, I pray non-stop that I’m wrong, and being in this Mecca of the rich and disgustingly glitzy helps enormously. What? Me worry? That seems to be the slogan of the unacceptably nouveaux riches around these parts, that is when they’re not name-dropping Madonna, who happened to drop by for the holidays with some youngsters in tow who made Michael Jackson look a gerontophile.
That there’s cultural decay in a declining West is hardly worth arguing about. Nor can one deny that a powerless and increasingly cretinised citizenry has been brainwashed into a state of conformity comparable to domesticated animals, with their lives totally controlled by technology and non-elected bureaucrats.
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