I’ve never written back-to-back daily columns before, but I just finished watching big, painful chunks of the first night of the DNC, and I feel like I have to share a few thoughts, if for no other reason than to purge myself of these disturbing sights and sounds.
First, I love the way Chicago prepared for the convention: by putting up a bunch of fencing and walls to keep the super-peaceful pro-Hamas ghouls from wreaking havoc too close to the convention center. Because we all know that building walls is really essential…unless it’s to keep literally millions of illegals from flooding across our border.
Then it’s racist.
They also closed down businesses, boarded up storefronts, and marshalled a big police presence that they somehow never manage to deploy to prevent the four-dozen average weekend shootings in the City of the Hunched Shoulders.
We do the same kind of thing in Florida from time to time. But we do that in the face of a looming natural disaster, like a Cat 4 hurricane.
Let that sink in. In the bluest of cities, the common people know how to react to a huge crowd of leftists descending on their town: as if it were the manifestation of the wrath of an angry God – or, depending on your worldview, a pitiless assault by the blind, unreasoning forces of a Nature that is everywhere red in tooth and claw.
Early in the evening a bunch of little-known speakers made up the under-card of presenters. I saw AOC take the stage, and listened as she said that, “Six years ago I was taking omelette orders in NYC.”
And all I could think about was those poor diners, confused and worried as AOC dropped off their orders. Thinking things like, “Shouldn’t there be cheese in this?” and “I ordered mushrooms in mine, but I got a bottle cap and a lemon twist.”
And, “Is there supposed to be pink fiberglass insulation in a Denver omelette?”
Second, speaking of natural disasters, I did not know who their first big-name speaker was going to be. But given that the substance-less theme of their convention is supposed to be joy and good vibes, I did not expect it would be the most aggrieved woman outside the cast of the View, Hillary Clinton!
But then she was introduced – and they might as well have had the fight announcer guy from Vegas, with a hyped-up cry of, “Llllllet’s get ready to GRUUUMMMMBLE!!!” – the arena was filled with the sound of thundering hoofbeats. I mean, she was really trampling out the backstage where the grapes of wrath are stored!
And then she trundled out to raucous and sustained applause before rolling out a mixture of glittering banalities about Biden, Harris and Tampon Tim, and angry swipes at the bad orange man who sent her cankling off to Chappaqua in 2016. Of course she made a big deal out of the 34 felony convictions that the corrupt “justice” system in NY pinned on Trump, and I couldn’t tell whether she really believed her own b.s. or not.
The loathsome Jamie Raskin followed her, with an equally bitter, dishonest and unhinged rant. All you have to know about Raskin is that he voted against certifying the 2016 election, and said that Trump should be impeached as soon as he took office on a ridiculous “emoluments” argument.
Annnnnnnndddddd… then he led the House show trial that impeached Trump for objecting to the 2020 election rigging.
(Oddly enough, many people call Raskin “Dick,” even though his name is not Richard.)
Of course, the “star” of the night was the mortal remains of Joe Biden, who was the center of the most bizarre performance by an assassinated leader that has ever happened.
Say what you want about the politicians who murdered Julius Caesar, but at least they imbued his death with a little dignity. They staged their crime during a respectable event – a meeting of the Senate – in a dignified location – the Theatre of Pompey in Rome – and they gave him a quick death.
By comparison, the Democrats may as well have beaten old Joe with a lead pipe in a latrine, but only badly enough to mortally wound him. Then they helped him to his feet, gave him just enough pain meds to keep him alive, and then shoved him out on stage to go through one more ritual humiliation.
I mean, they pushed his speech back out of prime time, so it wouldn’t end until after midnight, knowing that he’s a guy who goes to bed at 8:30, and isn’t even close to sharp after the early bird special at Denny’s ends at 4:45.
Of course he gave us more of the usual, slurring, mumbling, then SCREAMING and GESTURING. Then slurring some more.
He actually brought up – for what feels like the four-hundredth time – the long-debunked lie that Trump called neo-Nazis “fine people.” Because at long last, senator, he has no sense of dignity. Or of coherence. Or of bowel control.
It was a sad denouement to a skeevy career, and perfectly emblematic of the moral rot in the Democrat party.
It struck me as a perverse inversion of speeches given by much-feared dictators like Stalin or Saddam at the height of their powers. In those cases, the tyrant came out to thunderous applause, and then basked in it for literally half an hour or more, the length and fervor of the response being commensurate with the abject terror of their audience, who knew that the first person to stop applauding would be led off to torture and death.
In Biden’s case, the extended cheers and applause were equally fraudulent, as were all of the signs and chants proclaiming, “We love you Joe!” But the cheering goons weren’t afraid of him; they were contemptuous.
After weeks of trashing him behind his back and mercilessly increasing the pressure on him until he was forced to resign, they condescended to cheer themselves hoarse in a way so transparently false as to be galling to its object.
Assuming Biden was aware of his surroundings, I can’t think of a more depressing and humiliating fate: to be surrounded by an army of Cassius and Brutus clones in your final moments on the political stage, watching and listening to them sing your praises, while they hold the bloody knives that they’ve mortally wounded you with, behind their backs.
And that’s only night one!
Hamas delenda est!
Martin Simpson 