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Assault on America, Day 551: What’s Joe doing down there in the basement? We want to know

Joe Biden
Let’s get it on, the 2020 campaign. Will Democrats and Joe Biden come out to participate?

With the Independence Day holiday in the rearview mirror, it’s time to hunker down for some serious politicking, isn’t it?

Longtime politics observers recognize the day after Labor Day as the start of the traditional campaign season, but in 2020, everything’s seemingly moved up dramatically. In light of this year’s remarkable happenings, first with impeachment, then the Democrat switch-in-time-saves Grampa Joe Biden’s political hide (after Bernie Sanders looked to be the clear race frontrunner), dealing with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP, or Wuhan if you prefer) virus and more recently, the ongoing “protests” and social unrest triggered by George Floyd’s murder in Minneapolis, there’s a tangible urgency among conservatives and American traditionalists to get things in motion.

The only problem is Biden is still largely persona non grata on the campaign trail (though he did do his first press conference in three months last week), purposely holed-up in his Delaware basement bunker presumably awaiting word from the scientists that it’s safe to venture outside his sterilized environment. The possibility of Joe getting sick is the perfect excuse for Democrats hoping to win this year’s election by default, pitting the eternally controversial (the man, not his agenda) President Donald Trump versus the media, the opposition party and, to a large extent, himself.

Polls show absentee nominee-to-be Grampa Joe with a sizeable national lead -- and with outside-the-margin advantages in many key swing states as well. Dumbfounded conservatives are at a loss to explain the numbers deficit, though there’s still a long way to go, and, at some point, Biden will need to emerge from his voluntary self-confinement to ask Americans for a vote. If for nothing else, they’ll need to see the guy is still vertical.

Every four years, citizens are tasked with voting for -- or against -- two major party candidates. Trump was the beneficiary of many anti-Hillary Clinton ballots in 2016 (to be fair, Clinton received a ton of anti-Trump votes as well). But in these oh-so-troubling times, it doesn’t make sense that Grampa Joe can completely duck the issues and run as a not-Trump would-be president.

Biden can’t hide forever, can he? Victor Davis Hanson wrote last week at National Review, “Using Biden as an empty vessel also assumes that he is at least a vessel. But what if Biden, say, on October 25, 2020, has one of his blank-outs? Or what if he announces once again, but this time at his final rare press conference: ‘I am going to beat Joe Biden!’ What then? Do they call Christopher Steele out of retirement to do a hasty file on Joe Biden, the delusional nut, and use Yahoo or Mother Jones again to leak the dirt in order to switch the order of the Democratic ticket?

“Given the current racial hysteria, how do Democratic handlers muzzle the not always latently bigoted Biden? Often dementia is a cruel pathway to the truth, freed from normal self-censorship, politeness, and social awareness. Meaning: What if Biden has more ‘you ain’t black’ moments, or Corn Pop storytelling, or he mimics a black accent to riff about chains, ‘clean’ blacks, and such? And in the present climate, will people be forgiving when he brags that his home state of Delaware was once a ‘slave state’? One or two such outbursts could shrink his share of the black vote to 80 percent, which would lead to losses in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Florida.

“In the chaos of July, Biden’s handlers have been acclaimed geniuses for anesthetizing him. But in the different season of October, he may finally be forced out from his lockdown, in the wild manner that soon-to-be looters and arsonists at last emerged from quarantine in June — pent-up, angry, incoherent, and self-destructive.”

As always, Hanson makes a lot of sense. There are many people out there wondering what’s going on in American culture and society these days, where the leftist #BlackLivesMatter “movement” has apparently infiltrated and taken over everything within view. Last week we saw footage of a Missouri couple defending their gated community home with firearms at the ready -- and liberals (rhetorically) assaulted them for it. Then there was the example of the NBA (National Basketball Association) announcing they’re planning to put “Black Lives Matter” on their courts when the season resumes (if it does, which is somewhat doubtful).

While there’s obviously a recognizable contingent of protesters practically everywhere, they’re still not in large enough numbers to conclude they’re anywhere near a majority of the country. Are most people, as Hanson hinted at, sitting back and seeing the craziness shaking their heads and itching to do something about it in the voting booth come November? We can only hope, because precious little in terms of “solutions” is coming from the Democrat side now.

Meanwhile, the establishment media obsessed over a story that President Trump ignored or lied about an intelligence report that alleged Russians were paying bounties to the Taliban for U.S. soldier kills. Rush Limbaugh called it “fake news.” That’s certainly what it looks like, too.

America simmers while the political talking-heads continue debating over the latest piece of Trump-bashing gobbledygook. Democrats took victory laps for defeating African-American Republican Senator Tim Scott’s police reform bill. It’s gotten so nuts that there’s purportedly serious discussion -- at least in liberal circles -- to alter or eliminate Mt. Rushmore (how the heck would they even be able to do it?) Patrick J. Buchanan noted how newly emboldened liberals are erasing Woodrow Wilson from an Ivy League campus. The longtime conservative ended his piece by asking, “Where does the madness end?”

Perhaps the coming months will reveal the answer. For now, America needs to see Grampa Joe in the light of day.

It’s July now. Joe Biden will be on the ballot in November. What does he do every day?

Here’s a satirical speculative look at what Joe might be doing now:

Somewhere in Delaware -- Joe Biden’s caretaker opened the creaky basement door and slowly descended the well-worn steps to the level below. She was fulfilling her part of his daily routine, bringing the Democrat nominee-to-be his morning coffee and muffins as well as the campaign-compiled printout of the latest news, purposely slanted towards the most favorable items as always. The career politician never had the greatest attention span as it was, but under virtual sequester and downright dull and boring days and evenings, the man’s available window of consciousness wasn’t exactly opened wide.

Joe’s doctor made a house call the day previous, confirming that the would-be president was still in relatively good health for a person in his demographic category. And there were no telltale signs of the coronavirus! But due to Biden’s delicate mental situation, the physician warned against startling the man, and by all means, no overexertion or excitement!

Seeing Biden seated at his desk with his mask hanging off his ear and with a catatonic stare on his façade, his hands folded neatly in his lap, the woman gently nudged him and said, “Mr. Joe, it's time to get ready for today’s schedule. There isn’t a whole lot you have to do, but someone from the campaign told me you’re set to talk with some of your colleagues about renaming Washington, D.C. Since you don’t have much of an agenda as it is, the brains feel you need something that’s catchy and appealing to our angry revenge-bent voters out there. Dissing the Founders gets the job done.”

Biden frowned at the notion, thinking he might actually have to offer his own suggestions, something that’s getting harder and harder to do as the days pass and when the most intellectually stimulating part of his life involves analyzing the clicking noise his pen makes when drumming on the wooden furniture. “What? People are coming over here?” the Democrat said as though the plan was distasteful.

“Oh no,” the woman laughed condescendingly. “They’re gonna call you. Just make sure when the ringing sound occurs that you push the answer button. You’ll see ‘em on the computer, right?” She wondered whether her charge was exhibiting signs of advanced brain damage from having played too much football in his younger years. Those leather helmets didn’t offer much protection back then. “You okay, sir?” He nodded but clearly wasn’t enthused about talking to anyone. He simply didn’t like it.

‘Very funny,’ Biden thought. ‘I’m not that far gone. I still remember my first phone all those years ago in Scranton. It was attached to a wall and you had to crank that little lever on the side to reach an operator. I don’t remember our phone number, though.’

Right then the computer screen lit up as it did whenever a member of a select group was on the line. Depressing the answer button, Joe saw his old boss’s image and heard his familiar baritone voice. “Hey Joe,” Obama uttered cheerfully. “That virtual fundraiser we did a couple weeks ago was awesome -- I didn’t even have to be in the same room with you and I could push the mute button here whenever I wanted. Since I live in the district now, I was the one who came up with the idea to rename it. ‘Washington’ and ‘District of Columbia’ sound so yesterday. And oppressive. Slaveowners and despotic explorers are out of vogue these days. So, there’s really only one alternative.

“I like ‘Wokeville.’ We could have every street painted B-L-M in big yellow letters.”

“What does it mean?” Joe replied, typically confused. “I always thought we’d just stop referring to any of the slaveholder class and simply label it ‘Biden-land.’ By tyrannical fiat we could then rename the city after each election, but only if a Democrat wins. The first thing I’ll do is sign an executive order stating that what is now the Washington monument be re-coined, ‘The Obama obelisk.’ I’ve always thought it looked just like a giant, well, you know…”

Biden’s words trailed off as he suddenly recalled the Big O didn’t appreciate phallic humor, the product of many racist and tasteless jokes he’d made after hours in the White House living quarters when the president needed a stress break and a smoke away from Michelle. Barack then made a hasty excuse and exited the call.

Buuuuzzzzz. Buuuuzzzzz. Click. “Joe, it’s Liz Warren. I heard you were planning to rename the capital and I needed to weigh-in on it,” the Massachusetts senator blubbered hurriedly, her eyes practically bulging out of her skull, clearly visible through her inch-thick granny spectacles. “I’ve got the perfect name… it’s ‘Pocahontas X.’ That way we can make up for 413 years of subjugating Native Americans like myself and also pay homage to the radical black movement as led by Malcolm X in the 60’s. What do you think?”

Biden sniffed as he blinked a couple times, zoning out for a moment and then stared blankly at the floor. If his brain were a web page, his forehead would read “Not responding.” Then, abruptly his eyes lit up. “Yeah, Liz. That’s a great idea. I once said you couldn’t go into a Seven-Eleven or a Dunkin’ Donuts without having a slight Indian accent, so anything that makes your people happy is great with me.”

Warren looked irritated and insulted. “Wrong kind of Indian, Joe. Forget I even called you. Knowing you, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Grampa Joe didn’t get it. But he didn’t have long to dwell on it either. The buzzer sounded and through his foggy consciousness he recognized Bernie Sanders’ mug and distinctive accent. “Joe, I had-ta call ya. So glad you’re getting rid of Washington, D.C., huh? Great. It’s hateful to the environmentalists. You know, all that concrete and marble and stuff. What an eyesore. We need a name that brings everyone to-geth-a under a green ceiling. I like ‘Existential Crisis-burg.’ Maybe we could do a statue to Greta Thunberg though she ain’t even dead yet.”

Biden yawned as he replied. “Sure, Bern. That’s fantastic,” the nominee lied, realizing he had to keep Sanders pacified at least until Election Day. “We’re gonna clean up this town, too. When I become president, we’ll stop all this murder nonsense by declaring gun violence a medical issue, treatable by copious amounts of legalized and government-grown marijuana and booze.”

“Way to go, Joe!” Sanders shouted, clearly overjoyed over the pot reference.

“I think Pennsylvania Avenue should be renamed ‘Colin Kaepernick Boulevard,’ too,” Joe replied.

“Seriously?” The Bern growled back. “Everyone knows Kaepernick was raised as part of a white family. As soon as my white woke-sters out there learn more about it, they’ll never go for it. Kaepernick does exhibit the requisite degree of self-loathing, but still, it’ll never fly.”

“You’re right, bud. I gotta go take my meds. I’ll go over the DC-renaming thing tomorrow. Can’t have too much to think about all at once. Toodeloo!”

--With the presidential nominee hardly ever seen these days one can only imagine what’s going on behind closed doors in the Biden basement. Be it the renaming of Washington DC or strategizing on how best to keep their man boxed-in for another four months, Democrats will eventually have to face real campaign vetting. Their day of reckoning is coming.

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