The Cautious Optimism Roving Correspondent – CORCA – is back from his road trip with some thoughts on our POTUS and VP:
Now that we’re in what feels like the 14th year of this administration, we’ve all come to recognize a couple of constants. Comma-La is really bad at being a politician. And Joe Biden is not all there.
In fact, he’s not even half-way there. He’s in some sort of shadowy nether realm where logic, common sense and intelligible English grammar and syntax go to die.
But just when you think that he has managed to scrape the bottom of the linguistic barrel – or in his case, the bottom of the coffin? – his manner of speaking somehow deteriorates.
It was bad enough when he mumbled everything. It got worse when he began to slur everything.
But did you hear that beyond-strange whispering thing he did at a recent press conference? Out of nowhere, when he was stumbling through some of his usual lefty nonsense, he began to lean forward at the podium, so far that his mouth was almost touching the microphone.
And I’m sure that you were thinking the same thing I was: Stroke? Cardiac arrest? Total loss of muscular control? Call a paramedic. Call a mortician. Down goes Biden! Down goes Biden!!
But then he stopped. And hovered over the mic. And started this insanely inappropriate whispering. “I got them 1.9 trillion dollars relief so far. They’re going to be getting checks in the mail that are consequential… this week… for child care.”
Then he just stood back up and started talking normally again. I mean, normally for him: “A lot has been happened already…”
Then, a few minutes later, he did it again. He stooped forward like an addled, centenarian Vincent Price, and whispered, “This is about who gets to count, whether your vote is counted after it’s been cast.”
Still later: “Let’s just remind them…” [pause for creepy whispering posture], “I wrote the bill…on the environment.”
And finally: “…employers can’t find workers. I said, yeah…” [creepy whispering posture], “Pay them mooorrrre.”
Yikes! He sounds like he’s in a horror movie.
Only it’s worse than that, when you consider the terrifying messages he’s saying in that Crypt Keeper voice: “I’ve spent 1.9 trillion dollars… I’m in control of who counts votes… I’m writing bills.”
And in what sounds like something you’d hear in a threat from a super-villain with a tactical nuke hidden somewhere in LA, “Pay people more, or the constitution gets it!”
I’d be less terrified if I answered the phone and heard his whisper-from-beyond-the-grave saying, “The call is coming from INSIDE the house!”
So it’s no secret the Biden juggernaut has been generally terrible. But one magical day last week was both a stunning illustration of incompetence, and also just another typical day in the Biden/Harris Dumpster Fire-palooza.
Er… administration.
During a ceremony welcoming gay and transgender activists to her office last Thursday, Kamala joined in the wince-making recent fad of giving her pronouns as “she/her.”
Sidebar: Because I’m nothing if not a cutting-edge hipster, and yet also an old-school boss, I’d like to give my pronouns, too: They are “thee” and “thou.”
But I want to get ahead of the trend, and also give the rest of my parts of speech.
As my nouns, I’ve chosen either “Your Eminence,” or “Your Excellency.” (I briefly considered, “Your Holiness,” but that seemed a bit much.)
My preferred adjectives are “hilarious” and “handsome.”
And before you can object to the latter, I know. If you’ve seen my pic at Martinsimpsonwriting.com, “handsome” is a stretch, to put it kindly. But in my defense, once you’re calling Bruce Jenner “she” – or Don Lemon “he,” for that matter – is it REALLY that much of a stretch? Because now you’re hurting my feelings.
I’m not done. My chosen adverb is “stunningly.” And my preferred speech sound is the “labial fricative.”
Because it amuses me. And because it sounds like it might slide in just barely on the sexy side of dirty.
(Why did I not choose the “bilabial fricative?” You know why. Get your mind out of the gutter, people.)
Where was I?
Oh yeah. Pity the poor millennial who next sees me and fails to say, “May I speak with thee, your stunningly hilarious and handsome Eminence?” Because I am going to throw a “You got ALL of my grammar wrong!” fit that you will not believe.
Anyway, back to our illustrious VP. When she went to the border last week – not because of Trump, so don’t even suggest that! — some local Hispanic Trump supporters took a big lead in the competition for my favorite group of 2021 so far.
Because they gave Kamala a great new Spanish-inflected nickname: “Que Mala.” Which I’m told means “how bad.”
I really appreciate witty nicknames, especially in languages in which I am as deficient as I am in Spanish. You may remember the only Spanish phrase I know from high school Spanish class: “Silencio por favor, Martino.” Which I’m pretty sure means, “Great job, please keep sharing your hilarious insights with the class, Martin.”
But I might not have gotten that translation completely perfect. Because, as I mentioned, my Spanish leaves mucho to be desired.
In fact, the only other Spanish phrase I’ve come up with is my previous nickname for Comma-la: “super esparcidor.” (Spanish for “super spreader.”) But I know a much better nickname when I hear it.
So henceforth, for this humble columnist at least, Comma-la will now be known as “Que Mala.”
So let it be escrito, so let it be done.
(That’s right: a multi-lingual hat-tip to Yul Brynner, as Pharoah, in The 10 Commandments. That counts as a three-bank shot in anybody’s rules of obscure comic references.)
Meanwhile, while Que Mala was being muy mal, Joey Gaffes was across town doing a press availability.
So you know that went swimmingly.
As he tried to explain why so many people have resisted getting vaccinated, Biden produced this little chunk of brilliance: “There’s a reason why it’s been harder to get African Americans, initially, to get vaccinated, because they are used to being experimented on — the Tuskegee Airmen and others. People have memories. People have long memories.”
Let’s skip right past the irony of a guy who can’t remember the names of half of his cabinet members warning us against the dangers of long memories.
Biden has mixed up – and not for the first time – the black Tuskegee Airmen/pilots who flew in WWII with the black guys who had an STD, and were victimized by the Tuskegee syphilis experiments, during which their conditions went untreated.
In the very unlikely event that he’s reading this column, please consider this a public service from a concerned citizen who would like him to be better at his job:
“Mr. President, you know those guys who are to your left when you’ve stumbled up the mobile airport staircase (which I pray will soon be taking the oath of office as our 47th president) and onto Air Force One? Those guys don’t have syphilis. They’re your pilots.
And your degenerate son, with the hookers and the meth and the Chinese cash stuffed in suitcases?
He’s not a pilot. He’s got syphilis.
You’re welcome.”
All right. Later this week I’ll have a column out about some bright spots in our political scene, not withstanding the natural disasters narrated above.
Until then, it’s been a long 4 years. And it’s only been 21 weeks. Avenatti/Mobile Airport Staircase 2024!
Martin Simpson 