This quarantine makes all holidays feel flat and unreal to me; it did it to St. Patrick’s Day, then Easter, and now Memorial Day.
But I’m lucky enough to live in Florida, where a GOP governor has allowed us to almost completely open up, so life is starting to return to normal. But our church is still not doing live services, and the library is still not open, so for a Christian and a reading junkie like me, life is still not normal yet.
All of that being said, I’ve been watching just enough news to continue to enjoy the flaming Hindenburg immolation that is the Joe Biden campaign.
His latest rhetorical rake-stomping was especially satisfying, since it made him look like a racist bonehead. As opposed to his previous iterations: pandering bonehead, corrupt bonehead, sexist bonehead, and all-around bonehead. (If you are keeping track on your Democrat bingo card, all you need is for him to say something ham-handed about transgenders… then jump up and wave that card over your head, screaming your head off. The only downside: every other person in America with a Joe Biden has already yelled “bingo.”)
Anyway, Plugs decided to do an interview with some doof who calls himself “Charlamagne tha God.” I’m no campaign manager, but did you need to know anything else about that guy other than that he misspelled “Charlemagne” and “the?” And since in his case you know that “God” should be lower case, he is 0 for 3 in spelling his own name!
Shockingly, the interview between a 112-year-old white guy who doesn’t know where he is and the African-American guy who doesn’t know how to spell his own name did not go well.
And now the Trump campaign has another bit of video to add to its attack ad library. Not since Peter Jackson had to cut The Lord of the Rings into just 3 long films has anyone faced such a daunting editing challenge.
I knew that Biden was struggling, but Andrew Klavan played some Biden audio from only two years ago — and he sounded like a different man. Don’t get me wrong: what he was saying was 180 degrees off, just as every public utterance of his since he first went to congress shortly after the Civil War ended.
But it was coherent. Not intellectually coherent. Because he’s Joe Biden. But it was syntactically and grammatically recognizable as a string of sentences that expressed a thought that had a beginning, a middle and an end.
But now? Everyone sees it: the guy is failing. Did you see when Anderson Cooper asked him to respond to a pre-taped video question from a voter, and Biden couldn’t get it that the guy wasn’t really there, live, and talking to him? Biden thanked the guy at the beginning, and made several comments to him, and never really did understand that he hadn’t been talking to a live person.
And it wasn’t cute, like when your addled but lovable grampy used to yell at people in horror movies to “Watch out!” I remember that my own grandfather would watch pro wrestling on tv, and would yell himself hoarse trying to alert the referee that the Iron Sheik was sneaking up on his opponent with a folding chair.
In his defense, grandpa was 85 at the time (slightly older than Plugs), and a retired crane operator, rather than someone vying for a shot at leading the free world. Also, he raised two sons, neither of whom scammed millions out of a corrupt Ukrainian kleptocrat.
Plus, when the older son died, the younger one didn’t immediately start hitting on his widow.
So at least grandpa had that going for him.
Anyway, my advice to Trump and the GOP is to stop hammering Biden for now. He doesn’t have the nomination yet, and a lot of Dems are already looking for a way to steal it from him (the phrase “like taking candy from a dementia patient in a coma” comes to mind), as they recognize the extent to which he is deteriorating.
It may be Machiavellian, but I think we should hold our tongues and our attacks, and let Joe coast until he officially has the nomination. Once he’s officially in, and it’s too late to replace him at the top of the ticket, we can go at him down the stretch.
The beauty is, we don’t need to do anything sleazy or underhanded. (Although no matter what anyone does, I fear the debates might garner Biden some sympathy. Trump v. Biden is going to look like 20-year-old Mike Tyson v. post-transition Bradley Manning, if Manning had astigmatism, and hemophilia, and the upper body strength of Bradley Manning.)
All we have to do is play a loop of Biden’s greatest hits on video: plagiarism scandals, position flip flops, disjointed ramblings, sexual assault. Plus a bedtime story about Mean Ol’ Corn Pop.
One new sign of desperation in the Biden camp is the list of people whom he is allegedly considering as possible running mates, especially since a running mate will be so crucial this year (unlike most), when the over/under on the life expectancy of the guy at the top of the ticket will be early fall of last year!
Given that, he has already handicapped himself by promising that the VP will have to be a woman. Not that it’s a handicap to pick a woman, of course – but it’s idiotic to rule out half of the population before the vetting process even begins.
And it’s not like the Dems have a deep female bench. Who are the most prominent Dem females on the national stage right now?
A cranky old white lady who pretends to be an Indian. (#wemustneverstopmockingher)
A different cranky old white lady with the ankles of a Clydesdale and the soothing speaking voice of a crow with infected tonsils who just finished a tour as the lead singer with his cover band who did nothing but Tom Waits songs for two sets a night, plus encores of “Time” and “Big in Japan” after each performance.
A frozen-faced mummy.
A colorless, odorless, flavorless Minnesotan with a heck of an arm when it comes to throwing binders at the triple-A level.
The Squad (proof that the old saying that “two heads are better than one” was not only wrong, but wildly so. In this case, four heads are not even better than one.)
You might look at that Murderers Row of Incompetence and be tempted to defy Joe Biden to pick worse prospects. And if he were still alive, Plugsy would say, “Hold my beer, and get your words straight, Jack.”
Then he would leak the most prominent candidates whom he is allegedly considering: Kamala Harris, Gretchen Whitmer, and Stacey Abrams.
Good lord!
Kamala is best known for getting her first position in politics by being creepy old Willie Brown’s mistress. (I was going to say, “That’s what I call an entry level position!” But I am far too classy for that.) She ran a terrible primary campaign that garnered only slightly more black support than Mitt Romney got in 2012, and she has a laugh so phony and grating that only the Phantom of Chappaqua exceeds it.
Whitmer is the witless governor of Michigan, where she has spent the last two months (and counting) exhibiting the worst qualities of a leftist bully. She’s condescending, and stubborn, and she’s imposing needless hardships on her state through her micro-managing arrogance.
She’s resistant to logic and allergic to facts, and she’s in the top tier of terrible Dem governors – along with Newsom, Pritzker, Cuomo and Nosferatu from New Jersey.
Any sane Republican candidates would be trying to hang Whitmer around the Dem nominee’s neck, pointing to her terrible mismanagement of the virus as emblematic of infuriating leftist malfeasance.
So Joey Gaffes naturally wants her to drop by his basement for a good ol’ grope and sniff—er, “vetting.”
And Stacey Abrams? Really?
Okay, so she’s female, and she’s black. And she got elected to an insignificant statehouse seat, before losing a governor’s race, and then pretending to have won. For months!
And that is ALL of her upside. The downside was displayed in a ridiculous recent Washington Post profile of her which managed to draw eye rolls from even the leftist media. Called “The Power of Stacey Abrams,” it featured purple prose, and a pic of her standing against a darkening background in what appeared to be a superhero’s cape.
The most infamously delusional paragraph in the article offered this quote, which I swear I am not making up, “Pandemonium ensues as she walks to the far left of the stage like a runway supermodel, stops on a dime, poses, tilts her head slightly and smiles. Cameras flash… and Abrams is summoning her inner actress…”
First off, I’m afraid that her inner actress is the same as her outer actress (the one who pretended to be GA governor), and like too many actresses, this one is bat guano crazy.
Second, “like a runway super model?” When you think of a supermodel, who do you think of?
That’s right: Melania.
Now Google Stacy Abrams.
I know. When I thought of “Stacy Abrams,” I thought of the M-1 Abrams.
Which is fine battle tank, and which – coincidentally – would look no more out of place on a runway than Stacy Abrams. Google it, take a look at those steel-plated flanks – on the tank, I mean – and tell me I’m wrong.
Normally, I’m not one to body shame. I think we’d be much more justified in character shaming, if the Dems weren’t incapable of shame.
But now that Imhotep Pelosi has changed the rules by calling the president “morbidly obese,” it seems almost unpatriotic not to correct this idiotic puff piece by pointing out the obvious.
Plus, I know that no matter how cruel I might be about her appearance, Pelosi will never frown at me. Because she is incapable of frowning. Or smiling. Or expressing any human emotion. Due to all of the botox that she’s injected into her hideous face, the sociopathic old crone.
You’re morbidly obtuse, Nancy. And you deserve to look like you do. I hope Joe picks you as his running mummy.
Sorry…mate. Running mate.
Avenatti/Undead Mistress of the Nile, 2020!
Martin Simpson 