AMERICAN NIGHTMARE IN ATLANTA

The Mourning After

“He’s dead, Jim.”

“Had a dream: You and me and the war at the end times / And I believe: California succumbed to the fault line / And there’s a Panamanian child / Who stands at the Dowager Empress's side / So all that remains is the arms of the angel / All that remains is the arms of the angels…” — “Calamity Song,” The Decemberists

“The myriad choices of his fate / Set themselves out upon a silver plate / If Epiphany's terror reduced you to shame / Choose a side to be on; choose, choose again…” — “Black Angel’s Death Song,” The Velvet Underground

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Joe Biden is dead and I’m not feeling so great either. 

To be fair, I didn’t see the whole horror show last night. In fact, I barely saw it at all. I mostly listened while it unraveled. Turned on the CNN stream for a bit about half hour in, as more and more people were texting/PMing me that I was missing history, but it was hard to watch, so hard to watch, and I didn’t like feeling sorry and sickened for Xiden, humiliation ritual cranked up to “11,” dead man squawking, it was like desecrating a corpse, nobody normal wants to see that, not even the corpse of somebody you hate, it was like watching Muammar Gaddafi getting ass-raped with a bayonet, it was perverse, so then I flipped around and compared a bunch of the podcast guys I listen to before settling on the Timcast stream, which had the best mix of commentary and self-awareness about when to keep their yaps shut (gadfly satirist Alex Stein was unexpectedly disciplined and not motormouthed; that funny but enigmatic guy continually surprises me). 

It was easier to listen than to watch for sure. Xiden still came off like a bitter, angry, washed-up senile confused hateful lying jerk, but I wasn’t subjected to the gape-mouthed dead-eyed visuals of a zombie President of the United States as meat-husk pathetic broken has-been loser embarrassing himself and our nation and nuking his political legacy (which is fine with me; Bo Xiden’s a piece of shit, he’s always been a piece of shit, mean-spirited and entitled and an endemic liar; a rapist, a child molester, a murderer, the worst dad imaginable; a dark occult Arden, DE, product programmed to a “T,” and if you know what I’m talking about you’re far better informed than most), not to mention any chance of being the Democrats’ 2024 nominee.

I mean, duh. Xiden shouldn’t have been the Democrats nominee in 2020, any responsible political party would never have done that to the American people, his mental decline was obvious even then to anybody paying attention.

But The Machine was deft enough to fool a razor’s edge of the willfully ignorant and the naturally ignorant and the Covid-panicked four years back, and since it’s not like we’ve got anything resembling an honest news media, they’re all corrupt elitist snobs with just as many skeletons in their closet as Xiden and many of those skeletons look small and similar, so they steamrolled the Truth, stole an election at Witching Hour, 3 a.m., yet you can only fool some of the people all the time and all of the people some of the time but you can never fool all of the people all of the time, and last night that fuse finally reached the detonation point.

Boom, the reality haymaker: “And down goes Biden!” 

“Everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” — Mike Tyson

Down, down, rock lobster. Last night, the crustacean in the pot finally got boiled, Xiden’s done, he’s cooked, and now we get to watch the controlled corrupt collectivist corporate clown media eat him alive. It’s going to be ugly, it’s going to be vicious, it’s going to be ruthless, it’s going to be unstoppable, it’s going to be gaping Gov. Gavin Newsom. 

Or so last night’s biggest “tell” suggests, with oil-slick try-sexual Newsom and his band of appropriately diverse twinks showing up at the debate to offer his smoothly inverted moral support to Xiden, saying all the right things backwards — “I am worried about President Trump’s mental capacity. I am worried about his ability to control himself. I am worried about his capacity to lead. I am worried about his mental acuity at the moment” — when it’s obvious (or at least it seems obvious) the Superdelegates have made their choice now and it’s going to be the handsome white guy with creepy serial killer vibes, a Ted Bundy for low-information soccer moms.

Sorry AWFULS: You’re going to have to settle for the white guy. But at least he’s the racist white guy, the guy who wants to give reparations to blacks in a state that didn’t have slaves, who wants to mandatory vaxx your children, leave the border open to invasion, and goes kneepads for China. Hard. Hope that’ll be enough to satisfy your self-hating death wish Lilith worship. 

Because it’s no longer the witching hour, we’re past that, the Doomsday Clock is ticking instead towards The Great American Midnight, the coven’s done, at least its outward reign, it’s time for the Witcher King of California to step up, no more of this Wicca shit ladies, time to finish things off via the Grim Reaper’s Rule of Three: First the death of the once-great city of San Francisco, where gaping Gavin was mayor for eight years; then the death of California when he was (s)elected as Governor for eight disastrous annum more; now for the grand finalé: Death to America. Hell, the Iranians couldn’t have done it better.

A quartet of notes before exit:

1- Obviously the unprecedented early date for the debate was a set-up. Until yesterday, there’s not been a presidential debate before mid-September and usually much later. This was an orchestrated takedown. The whole things been plotted out, only question was who was going to be last wo/man standing to grab the mantle. Looks like it’s been decided, and they’re going with the serial killer over the choice among three witches (Hillary, Veep Kneepads, Big Michelle Obama).

2- Ironically, the handcuffs on the debate structure ended up being favorable to President Orange, who came off more measured and reasonable than at any official media event in recent memory. He let Xiden destroy himself. Along with the Kafka-esque lawfare that is keeping 45 in court and mostly toned-down, all the occupying regime strategies are imploding. Of course, that doesn’t matter when you control the voting.

3- Check out the post-mortem CNN panel. It’s pretty instructive on who is just going to shamelessly lie flat-out to your face, tell you up is down, day is night, the sky is green and Anya Taylor-Joy is a movie star. Half-people with less-than-zero integrity, the media whores who will say whatever it takes to keep themselves on the TeeVee. Van Jones better enjoy every moment he’s got left, cuz if there’s ever been a shameless false witness destined for soul-annihilation, it’s that piece of fleshy vaporware.  

4- As somebody pointed out before me, slotting Newsom into the Dem pole position (so to speak), also gives the Machine the opportunity to hand the California governorship to Veep Kneepads, cackling Kamala, and a new V.P. more suited to Nancy Pelosi’s reptilian relation. 

There’s more to say, but I don’t want to spend my whole morning mourning last night’s embarrassment. I’ll be the first to note my track record for predictive bullseyes has been somewhat shaky so far this Spring — Apparently Kate Middleton’s not really dead (yet); Will Smith is still clinging to Move Star status; and my fantasy baseball team has been wracked with injuries — so maybe I’m wrong.

“I Know Nothing!” Other than the usual: Say your prayers. Nobody knows for sure what’s really going to happen, most certainly not me, until the very Very VERY End. Until then, all I can guarantee is that it’s going to be entertaining as hell.

The New York Times, June 21, left. The New York Times this morning, right. R.I.P.