where the hell am I, jack?

Post-Mortem on Joe Biden’s Quick Summer Disintegration

21 July 2024

Joe Biden dropped out of the Presidential Race today. Issuing a glib and self-congratulatory little memo, following twenty-four days of increasing pressure to “stand down, old man!

Earlier in the spring, I wasn’t giving much thought to Joe Biden’s age. I knew he was a shambling wreck, sure, that’s a given. We’d seen him fall off a bike, stumble up the stairs of Air Force One, and called French President Macron Mitterrand (Mitterrand died in 1996).

His age didn’t seem relevant compared to his stance of unconditional support towards the Zionist colonial project in Palestine, abetting its diabolical extermination of the Palestinians. Oh no: our president is supporting fascism! But, hey, what else is new?

But to the Americans, his inadequacy was laid bare on the evening of 27 June when his physical ability to think, talk, look normal, and articulate his party’s political goal fell flatter than a ream of card-stock on concrete. Smack!

I was excited for the debate! I knew Joesph Robinette Biden Jr was an old zombie, and I was anticipating a train-wreck. I thought, yes, I’ll smoke a big blunt of Vermont sticky and watch the entertainment event of the summer. But, goddamn, even from Moment One it was obvious that “train-wreck” wouldn’t do it justice.. train-wrecks don’t typically provoke embarrassment and pity. It was more like watching a trapeze artist face-plant after falling off the high-wire: ouch!

I had the distinct feeling that I was watching Donald Trump win the election in real-time. And the post-game analysis on CBS was like a funeral— I don’t think there was ever a more catastrophic public appearance of an American politician in this country’s short history— other than Robert Budd Dwyer blowing his brains out on live television.

From that night on, the knives were out. The media-sphere, suddenly aware they’d been complicit in deceiving their readerships, and themselves feeling burned and deceived by the White House, swung around to course-correct. The journos were unleashed, given the green light to publish all the shit they’d been holding back on: there was blood in the water, and then as the the geyser of White House leaks started, it became a frenzy.

The age-related criticism had been unfashionable and in poor taste for those establishment types. But now Biden’s deterioration was threatening to the establishment itself! Before the debate, his baffling ineptitude were folksy gaffs, and his all-too-visible decline was a childhood stutter!

Thereafter, the Biden White House entered Führerbunker mode, as Biden whittled down his circle of advisors to just some old friends from Delaware and his close family— his son Hunter began functioning as a Chief of Staff. In these situations, after all, you can only trust blood. But Biden had no base of support within the party, nor real admirers among the population.

Biden forgot his place, that he was installed in 2020 to stymie the insurgent Social Democrats led by Bernie Sanders. Biden ranted against the “party elite,” and cursed them for pushing him around, forgetting that he wholly owed his political power to them and only them. Ya can’t bite the hand that leads ya, Joe. They’ll put you down…

I have some personal feelings on how I’ll remember Joe Biden.

Biden’s favorite story, traumatically losing his wife and child to a car crash, is a deeply tragic one, undoubtably. But what did Biden do with it? He publicly invoked this loss for public sympathy, deploying their fate (and especially Beau’s) as an origin story he could use for political gain. He used the memory of Neilia and Naomi’s death selfishly and cynically. That’s the man that Joe Biden is: he exploited the death of his loved ones for clout.

Meanwhile, he actively inflicted horror on Gaza, a holocaust of the twenty-first century, that eclipsed the scale of his own saga: creating a hundred-thousand dead Neilias and Naomis, and a Beau Biden every minute like clockwork. I’m inclined to think he learned nothing from their deaths, that Joesph Robinette Biden Jr is a stilted shell, an automaton with no values other than hackish Scranton-Joe horseshit, an entitled husk who believed his own flimsy mythology.

Joesph Biden claimed that only “the Lord Almighty” could convince him to quit (that was only two weeks ago, if that gives an idea how much has changed in fifteen days). Like everything else, this was cavalier posturing. Biden dropped out on 21 July, 2024, after the pressure on him to step aside became unbearably acute; it was his ‘old friend’ Barack who drafted the letter from George Clooney, Pelosi who took it as her personal mission to save the party by killing Biden, and National Security spooks like David Ignatius who kicked it off last summer by publishing President Biden should not run again in 2024, signaling the CIA’s position on the matter: the Agency would prefer a new face.

At the end of the ride, Biden was a man with no mythology, not a Dark Brandon, but a weak and tired old fool who had made the world a worse place. A mortal like the rest of us, who has the weight of his presidential-sized crimes to bear.

Now he will serve out his presidency, and probably die soon, at home in Delaware or a Naval hospital. A man who has lived his whole life by egoism will find little left to live for once power is relinquished. His ascent is long over, his body and mind are failing, and the pharmacological wünderdispensary of the White House will soon be out of his reach. I feel like I’m writing his obituary, and I suppose I am. I won’t give enough of a fuck to update this when he goes in the ground.

He deserves all this and worse; he deserves to disintegrate within his living shell. A withering soul in a melting body, yearning for just another loop around the block for ol’ times sake..?

What will Biden’s soul be reincarnated as, once he dies? A dog? Too friendly. A fly? Too mobile. The finest karma would for Biden be reborn as a plant of grass, a perennial ryegrass, on the lawn of a suburban Home-Owner’s Association, subject to the burn of cancerous pesticide chemicals, wretched scorching sun of a world getting hotter, and regular lawn-mower “hair-cuts” to chop him down— just like the IDF went into Gaza to “mow the grass” every few years. To atone with patience for all the crimes he’s inflicted world-wide. Maybe after that lifetime he can be upgraded to a minnow. Nevertheless, revoke this man’s human-pass. He’s outta here, man! (anyways…)

final thoughts:

What next? Best bets are Harris leading the ticket with Beshear as VP. For the American people, this would be a breath of fresh air. Someone (I think it was Ettingermentum) pointed out that it would be the first “new” faces in presidential politics since Obama made his debut in ‘08, or Trump in ‘16. For Americans, novelty is the winning factor, because Americans are desperate for change, and they’ll take any chance to get it.

That’s all for today. Thanks for reading.

Liam CZA Noble

Burlington VT 2024

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