Ukraine and EU: Buckling Bedfellows Together on the Ropes

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It feels like things have sharply taken a turn for the worse in the unraveling of the doomed ‘star-crossed-lovers’ of Ukraine and its tipsy European maiden.

Options are running out fast, with Brussels’ flunked high-noon piracy attempt, and the Euro-circus-roadshow’s increasingly spastic and humiliatingly empty huddles and desperate powwows, virtually no options remain beyond the self-flagellating throes of despair we’re now being made painfully witness to.

The club of losers with combined approval rating below 50%

The sad thing is, this carnival hardly even has an audience any longer—who, precisely, is this overextended charade for, anymore?

It is clear there remains no vision forward, no workable contingencies, and the last few stalwart globalist puppet holdouts of Macron, Merz, and Starmer are merely play-acting chickens with their heads cut-off as they gadabout from one slumping European capital to another for their endless procession of humiliation rituals.

All the while, the EU’s guy-wires are snapping as the whole teetering structure begins to groan under the ponderous weight of its irrelevance. Here French-Polish writer Daniel Foubert gives a colorful diagnosis of the terminal madness and discohesion gripping dying Europe:

Europe doesn’t have “a problem”. It has THREE problems: 3 European nations are suffering from a severe “post-imperial hangover”.

First, there is the United Kingdom, a nation that voted for Brexit to “take back control” only to realize it has completely forgotten how to drive.

The British identity crisis is like watching a retired lion try to adopt a vegan diet. They traded imperial confidence for an HR department’s sensitivity training. The land of Churchill is now governed by a sprawling “nanny state” bureaucracy that is more terrified of offending someone on X than it is of actual decline. The British police, once the envy of the world, now seem to spend more resources investigating “non-crime hate incidents” and painting their patrol cars in rainbow colors than solving burglaries. It is a nation desperately clinging to the aesthetics of tradition—the Royals, the pomp, the tea—while its institutions have been hollowed out by a progressive rot that makes a California university campus look conservative. They want the swagger of the 19th century but are paralyzed by the emotional fragility of the 21st.

Then there is France, the angry, chain-smoking aunt of Europe who refuses to admit she’s been unemployed for decades.

France’s hangover manifests as a permanent state of insurrection masquerading as “civic engagement.” Their identity is split between a delusional elite who still think Paris is the capital of the universe and a populace that expresses its “joie de vivre” by burning down bus stops every Thursday. The French suffer from a Napoleonic complex without a Napoleon; they demand the living standards of a conquering empire while working a 35-hour week and retiring at an age when most Americans are just hitting their stride. They preach “Republican values” and aggressive secularism, yet the state has lost control over vast swathes of its own suburbs. France is essentially a beautiful, open-air museum where the curators are on strike, the guards are afraid of the visitors, and the management is busy lecturing the rest of the world on “grandeur” while the electricity bill goes unpaid.

Finally, we have Germany, the neurotic giant that has decided the only way to atone for its history is to commit slow-motion industrial suicide.

Germany’s post-imperial hangover is a moral autoimmune disease: the country is so terrified of its own shadow that it has replaced national pride with aggressive self-flagellation and recycling regulations. Their identity is built on being the “Moral Superpower,” which practically translates to shutting down their perfectly functional nuclear power plants to burn dirty coal, all while lecturing their neighbors on carbon footprints. It is a nation of engineers who have engineered a society that doesn’t work. The German spirit, once defined by efficiency and discipline, has mutated into a paralyzed bureaucracy where filling out the correct form is more important than the outcome. They are so desperate to avoid being “threatening” that they’ve become essentially a large NGO with an army that has broomsticks for rifles, terrified that showing any backbone might be interpreted as a relapse.

But what’s remarkable, is that despite these terminal convulsions, the Euro-sock-puppets continue to double down on the same agonies that have driven them to this bottomless pit of despair. For instance, here a Danish MP calls for Europe to have its own nuclear weapons after the perceived betrayals of the US, which can ‘no longer defend Europe’.

Merz was also seen playing up the mawkish solemnity during a scripted exchange where a Bundeswehr soldier informed him that many of the armed forces don’t intend to live past the age of 40, implying a coming ‘big war’ of some kind—a spectacle of fear-mongering as impressive as it is stomach-churning:

Even Politico has driven the stake of humiliation through Europe’s heart with their new issue showcasing Trump as “the most powerful person in Europe”, with other “top” Euro-bigs scandalously pushed to the bottom of the list:

https://www.politico.eu/politico-28-class-of-2026/

It’s clear that even the establishment has acknowledged the utter debased inconsequentiality of these so-called ‘prime leaders’.