I recorded the GOP debate last night, but haven’t been able to make myself watch it yet. Lately I’ve taken to waiting to see the coverage and the excerpts the next day, mostly because the entire process is painful for me to watch, since I find the current state of the race to be so dispiriting.
I still haven’t completely given up on DeSantis, because I’m a hopeless political romantic, and for decades I’ve dreamed of having a disciplined and consistently principled conservative presidential candidate to support, rather than having to settle for the least objectionable option. (Ironically, my vote for Trump in 2020 was the happiest one I’d ever cast.)
I know that if/when the day comes that RDS is mathematically eliminated (I know: that day may have already come), I’m going to mourn the lost opportunity of having DeSantis do for the US what he’s done for Florida.
At that point, I’ll at least be able to enjoy his excellent conservative governance of Florida for the remainder of his second term, and hope that five years from now, as Trump is preparing to leave the scene – hopefully after a successful second term – DeSantis will still be a viable option for a future presidency.
But I fear that the maddening, dishonest leftist attacks on him from both Trump and the left may have rendered him toxic in the future. Which will be a real shame.
Turning to the Dem side of things… Yikes! Just when you think Biden cannot deteriorate any more obviously, he seemingly walks into a demented political version of the Monty Python dead parrot sketch:
Everyone With Functioning Eyes (EWFE): This guy is dead
Rachel Maddow: No, no, he’s just resting. Look.
EWFE: We know what a dead guy looks like, and we’re looking at one now.
Jake Tapper: No, he’s resting. He’s a great president, ol’ Blue Collar Joe.
EWFE: He’s stone dead.
KJP (jabbing Biden, making his head flop to one side): There, he moved!
EWFE: No he didn’t, that was just you jabbing at him!
KJP: No it wasn’t. I mean, he’s got a great Bidenomics plan, and he’s hard at work promoting it.
EWFE: He’s not hard at work. That’s rigor mortis.
KJP: Nonsense. You should see him on the trail, none of us can even keep up with him.
EWFE: Francisco Franco could keep up with him! He’s as dead as Julius Caes– (Biden slowly pitches to one side and falls flat on his face.)
EWFE (pointing to Biden’s prone body): What do you call that, then?
KJP: There was a sandbag in his way.
EWFE: A sandbag?! Then why doesn’t he get up?
KJP: He’s just pining for Scranton.
EWFE: He’s not pining! He’s passed on. This president is no more. He has ceased to be. He’s shuffled off this mortal coil.
Joy Behar: No way. He’s doing a great job. The economy is coming back.
EWFE: You know what’s not coming back? Him! He’s joined the choir invisible. We demand a living, replacement president.
KJP: I can see if we’ve got another Bid—
EWFE: NOT HUNTER!! Or Jill, or Jim.
KJP: Okay. (looking around her in a panic, when her gaze falls on Que Mala) I’ve got a slug.
EWFE: A slug? (Que Mala breaks out in a crazy cackle that raises the hair on the back of your neck.) Can she talk?
KJP: Not really.
And, scene.
Seriously, Biden is frightening everyone. They’ve had him start using the short stairs at the back of the plane, and he still almost fell on his way down. He’s telling the same stories multiple times in the same short speech. And he couldn’t properly introduce the 55-year-old rapper LL Cool J without screwing up his name.
“But Martin,” you are probably asking, “how do you screw up a name that consists of a one-syllable word and three simple letters?”
I know, it’s hard to believe. But he called him “LL J Cool J.” And then he called the adult black guy “boy.” Ouch!
On the other hand, are we really surprised? I mean, we all know about Biden’s youthful rival on the mean streets of Pennsylvania, Cornelius Popovich. Except that when Biden talks about that guy, the closest he can get is “Corn Pop.” (True story. And guess what? That Cornelius Popovich was a bad dude.)
If this keeps up, Biden might need to pick Dianne Feinstein as his VP for ’24, just to make him look energetic and lively by comparison.
My Wonder Dog Cassie insisted that I give you one more Biden story today, because she is outraged.
As you all know, dogs are man’s best friend, and I’d rather spend time with the average dog than with the average person. (Present company here in CO nation excepted, of course.) There’s even a famous dog-related political saying, attributed to the last Democrat president who wasn’t a grotesque disappointment, Harry Truman: “If you want a friend in Washington DC, get a dog.”
But Joe Biden couldn’t even manage to do that! As a wise Scottish shepherd once told me (two months ago, during an incredible border collie demonstration in the highlands), there are no bad dogs, only bad owners.
Indeed. You remember that Biden first got a German Shepherd named Major, but he had to leave the White House after he bit at least two people. (Oddly enough, Hunter Biden is still allowed in the White House, even though he’s bitten the behinds of at least 3 hookers that we know of.)
So Biden got another German Shepherd, Commander, this one a puppy whom he could raise from scratch, and instruct with the same parenting skill-set that he used with Hunter.
Annnnndddd… Commander has bitten at least 11 people in 16 months.
The latest attack was this week, when he chomped on a secret service agent like the agent was a pork chop and Commander was Whoopi Goldberg.
Was Obama right: is there really NOTHING that Biden can’t “F” up? I mean, German Shepherds are beautiful, loyal, intelligent animals. And sure, when they’re owned and trained by members of a certain national socialist workers’ party, they’ve had a bit of a spotty work history.
But now as then, it’s the socialist owner, not the pooch, that’s the problem!
I just hope that if Biden shows up next week with yet another German Shepherd – this one named Gruppenfuhrer Biden – every member of the secret service quits!
I’m Cassie’s owner, and she approves this message.
Before I go, I’d like to send you into the weekend with two recommendations, one a documentary and one a book.
If you enjoy the music of Tom Petty – and if you don’t, c’mon, man! – I just came across a documentary called “Somewhere You Feel Free: The Making of Wildflowers,” which chronicles Petty’s creation of his favorite album in 1994.
It features a lot of behind-the-scenes footage of Petty noodling, writing and rehearsing most of the songs that made it onto the album, and a bunch of very good ones that didn’t. I’m fascinated by the creative process, and it was cool to see him just muddling his way through normal life.
Except that for him, “normal life” involved writing some excellent songs. I miss that guy.
The book is C.S. Lewis’ That Hideous Strength. It’s the third book in his science fiction trilogy, and though I didn’t much care for the first two, this one stuck in my head, and I’ve just recently re-read it.
It’s a dystopian tale of the dangers of a metastasizing, arrogant bureaucracy hell-bent on imposing an oppressive “progressive” scientism on the little people who aren’t smart enough to realize how backward their old-fashioned morality and ethical world view really is.
So, pretty much a cross between a demonic horror movie and the last couple of years of American politics.
Lewis is always worth reading. Though my favorites of his are The Screwtape Letters and some of his apologetics, including the clear thinking and prose of his Mere Christianity, this one is as prescient as 1984, and feels like it’s ripped from tomorrow’s headlines.
Have a good weekend, and don’t forget…
Biden delenda est!
“Dr.” Jill Biden/Commander Biden, 2024!
Martin Simpson 