Herr Juncker is old and tired. He is exhausted by having run a nation the size of Ipswich for two decades, stressed by having been sacked for corruption. His mental acuity is not of the first rate. His chain-smoking and alcoholism have rendered his metabolism sclerotic. His obsession with collecting bling medals and his inflated sense of entitlement have rendered him as remote and pompous as the Sun King. He is, in other words, perfect as the new President of the European Commission.
Reports in the Telegraph suggest that Europe's heads of government held talks deep into the night on the subject of Herr Juncker's drinking. I expect the Danish PM suggested making him see an alcohol abuse counsellor every day, the Italian PM suggested weaning him from ardent spirits onto watered wine and the Hungarian PM suggested locking him in his office and only letting him out for ceremonial events. Herr Juncker himself, dismayed at having to go to the bin-store area of the Berlaymont every time he wanted a fag, and at the potential embarrassment of bumping into Nigel there, is reported at wanting the rules changed to allow the President to smoke anywhere in EU buildings.
Nevertheless, we wholly endorse Herr Juncker's candidature. Who cares if he smells of stale booze, is covered in fag ash and has wee-stained trousers? Who cares if he's too drunk to even see what he's signing? Who cares if his feeble dissipated frame can hardly bear the weight of medals imposed upon it? Herr Juncker represents perfectly to the youth of Europe the Federalist ideal. He's the only choice for the new President.