The power of Hasselhoff is undeniable. He controls all media. Television. Radio. Print. Fortune cookies. Those little slips you find in your pants sometimes that say "Inspected by #42", yea, that's him.

His power must be immense in order to take whatever modicum of talent bestowed upon him by the muses and parlay that into the unnatural success he has achieved. I mean, sure, we can give him Knight Rider and Baywatch--who's gonna argue with the popularity of a talking Trans Am and undulating lifeguard mammaries--but the whole Germany thing is beyond reasonable explanation. I'm not certain why they haven't elected him chancellor yet, unless they have a "nein Amerikaner" policy or something. Still, I have little doubt that his lofty goals exceed the domination of the Fatherland and that he hopes one day to have all of Western Europe under the spell of his infectious pop music and disarming smile.

It's his chest hair, you know.

That's where he draws his mind-control power, kinda like Samson. Think about it: on Knight Rider, the top few buttons of his shirt (when he was wearing one) were always undone. He was testing the waters, determining the effectiveness of his power on an unsuspecting television audience. When he was certain it would work, he escalated his endeavors and on Baywatch exposed his entire chest in all of its glory!

We should have known better. We should have seen it coming. Now I fear it is too late.

Hasselhoff über alles!

(The picture accompanying today's post appears to have been created by "illinois enema bandit." Credit where credit is due.)

Tags: Hasselhoff, Humor, WTF