Remember Jamaal Bowman? Neither do I; he lost his primary last week, and it was all anyone wanted to gripe (or chortle) about for two days . . . until Joe Biden tottered out onto a debate stage with skin the pallor of fine china and a face sagging like bad Claymation, and entered the annals of public political failure. Now Biden himself, and the future of the race, is all anyone can talk about, and with good reason. It’s not just on the pages of National Review — where the story of Biden’s public implosion has crowded out everything else as ten different writers each dash off their own infuriated “I told you so” pieces like an overcaffeinated Kermit the Frog furiously pounding his typewriter.
It’s happening in the real world as well. I live in deepest blue Chicago and have experienced authentic “guys in my coffee shop are saying” moments about Biden’s collapse every single day since the debate. This morning, a full six days after the debacle, I took my son to a dental appointment; in the other room, two technicians were debating whether Biden should drop out. On the way home, I darted into a 7-Eleven, and the guy changing out the cash register there was arguing with the storeowner about whether Biden would drop out. (I couldn’t help but add my piece this time: “He gawn. It’s gonna be Kamala, I’m pretty certain. Convention will be fun!” They didn’t seem as thrilled at the prospect.) We now head into an unusually protracted July 4 holiday weekend with only one political question on the minds of voters: Where do we go from here?
Comments