Joe Biden leads the Democrat pack and he’s a catastrophe, meaning that we have to weigh the human kindness that compels us to seek to end his humiliation against the practical reality that this doddering establishment weirdo will get squashed by Donald Trump like a dung beetle under a steamroller. Or even like an ex-Beatle under a steamroller – Biden is the Pete Best of American politics, the guy who never quite made it. Except Pete Best wasn’t a gropey, senile, corrupt Democrat plagiarist with delusions of adequacy.
And every day, [Pick A Nickname] Joe is getting worse.
Now, Joe used to have this kind of goofy charm. He was and remains a doofus, but a harmless one, sort of like that dorky neighbor who makes circus music play in your head every time he wanders over to your yard to tell you a long and ultimately pointless story about how he saw a squirrel and the squirrel had a nut and it was a fuzzy squirrel and it lived in a tree and how he likes squirrels.
But his regular guy act is wearing a bit thin. His appeal used to be that of someone who liked Budweiser and talking about sports and who did not give off the kind of smarmy condescension vibe to normal people who work for a living that is now so typical of blue state libs. You were talking about the old Joe when you talked about old school Dems, the party of the workin’ man instead of the party of the illegal alien, government drone and bitter SJW. These salt-of-the-earth folks were the very people that Trump – who spent his whole career working with union guys to build stuff instead of bloviating for a living like the New Class elites are wont to do – appealed to and stole right out from under the Democrat coalition. Not that many Democrats minded losing the white working class – Felonia Milhous von Pantsuit famously wrote off people who sweat when they work, probably because of all that unjust privilege held by guys who drive Mac trucks or fix toilets.
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Joe’s big sell is that he could get these Normals back in the fold, and that was a threat for a while, except Joe has not only dived way left with his party but the scrutiny he has invited has changed the Biden narrative, and not for the better.
Here’s the thing – you are not going to win back hardworking middle-class voters by promising to pay for the medical care of illegal aliens who shouldn’t even be here in the first place. And it’s pretty hard to trash the current medical system when it’s the system you and your boss Barack Obama forced us all into in the first place. Getting huffy when you get asked how many genders there are and then get a follow-up of “So, what’s number three?” does not help you appeal to real people either.
But everyone goes left in a Dem primary, and Joe would no doubt try to pivot back in the general. He might be able to pull off his centrist scam again after the convention, and if that was his only problem, he might have a decent shot.
But it’s not his only problem. He’s got a whole bunch of problems and Trump will mercilessly twist the knife in every one of them.
Let’s start with his family. His relatives were apparently brazenly peddling Joe’s influence to the Chi-coms and the Ukrainians and probably others. While that won’t upset the mainstream media – it only cares about fake TRUMP RUSSIA TREASON baloney when it comes to foreign influence peddling – normal people will find that disturbing. And the mainstream media can no longer treat such stories the way the big Indian (no relation to Elizabeth Warren) treated Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest because we now have alternative media to get out the word on this sordid corruption.
And let’s not even get into his son Cokie’s bizarre lifestyle. “Well, Mr. Vice President, the good news is your son is no longer married to your other son’s widow. The bad news is he left her to marry someone else then knocked up yet another woman.”
Even putting aside his disturbing skinny-dipping fetish, there’s the gal-groping. He seems to be trying really hard not to get handsy with the local talent, but you know he’s going to slip up. He can’t help it. He’s not a mere hugger. He’s gross, and that’s already defining him.
Now, maybe you can survive some tarnishes on the old image. Hell, people still voted for the Clintons again and again. But it’s hard to survive being defined as an incoherent bull-Schiff-er.
Joe is the Gaffe-O-Matic, with a new embarrassment every day exuding from his ever-open piehole. One day he’s standing in New Hampshire extolling the virtues of Keene, Vermont. The next day he’s creating his own ever-morphing Sarajevo sniper story about pinning a medal on a corporal, or was it a Navy captain? There’s a significant difference, in that the corporal actually works for a living. And a “young” Navy captain? Let me assure you that no O6 in any branch qualifies as “young.”
And it just goes on and on. Joe was always a clown, a joke, the politician other pols sent to pick someone up from the airport. If he was a member of the Corleone family, he’d be Chris.
But now this ancient, crusty nimrod wants to have his finger on the button. At 76 today, he’s just not all there, and he was never much there to begin with. His handlers will rightly worry that when he wanders down to the Oval Office in the morning he’ll be in a loose, flapping bathrobe because he forgot to change out of his pajamas. Assuming he was even sleeping in PJs and not going commando. It’s not like the Oval Office hasn’t been the scene of cringey antics before. Four years of this guy? He can’t handle four minutes onstage without embarrassing himself.
Joe desperately needs an intervention, but he won’t get one. We normal people think he’s a Dumb Man Walking, and the polls indicate way too many Democrats think he’s the cream of their commie candidate crop, the one with the best chance to take on Trump. So, he’ll keep mortgaging his dignity until he either wins the nomination or the Democrats decide to go all-in on the Stalinist, or the Squaw, or the Furry, or Stevie Nicks 2.0, or one of the other members of their primary freak show’s cast.
Right now, Trump’s gotta be rolling with laughter.
Oh well. It couldn’t happen to a nicer party.
If you want to read a vivid account of what happens if the Democrats succeed and establish a one-party dictatorship a la California and Venezuela in the scat-saturated ruins of the blue states, check out my action-packed yet hilarious novels, People's Republic, Indian Country and Wildfire. The Never Trump losers hate my books and call them “appalling,” which is the highest possible praise.
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