I Keep Seeing Death in Photos of Joe Biden
Or a ninja or something. Whatever it is it isn’t good.
It has been brought to my attention a mistake was made in this article.
In the below article, I make fun of Mike Pence by saying something along the line he resembles the necromantic revenant of Bob Barker risen from his grave to spay and neuter Donald Trump. However, Bob Barker isn’t dead. Consider this my acknowledgment Bob Barker isn’t dead, but the rest shall remain standing and in the interest of history I retract and regret nothing.
The last week has just been spring break for exhausted journalists who were forced to do the very minimum of their jobs for the last four years.
“Finally,” exclaimed an exhausted and hardly worked press corps. “We can just take photos, swap all of our adjectives like fascist and authoritarian for boldly progressive, and get back to drinking ourselves to death in peace like the noble bulwark of democracy we tell you we are.”
“We can write articles about how Biden balking at comprehensive immigration reform is totally legit, since the few immigration reform advocates we bothered to talk to said it was fine. We can’t be bothered to talk to every hater on K Street, all right? We started at Z and got to U Street before we packed it up and decided we deserved a drink. K Street was like, literally, a million blocks away. Don’t even get me started on A Street. They’re fucking animals down there.” Says high-ranking editor I just made up.
Personally, speaking as R.B. Lamb again, the news Biden was open to breaking up sweeping immigration reform packages into smaller bills was fairly alarming. I don’t know how much time this guy thinks he has left. I keep seeing Death hovering over his shoulder in all these photos and if Hollywood has taught me anything — beyond the idea performative virtue signaling translates into billions of dollars anyway — it has taught me monsters that show up in photos of you are getting ready to kill you.
I first brought this grim figure to the public’s attention in November, though the alarm I expected in response to a clear and present danger to the life of the President of the United States has not yet materialized. I remain concerned for our President. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the danger he’s in, despite bringing the demon into his house.
This grim, masked figure is in most of the photos I see of President Biden lately. Always hovering, it is always staring directly at him, hungrily. So far as I know it is licking its chops underneath that mask, which certainly serves to obscure an eldritch and horrifying visage of unspeakably ancient evil. I have heard stories of the oni and crossroads demons. Perhaps our President is cursed by one of these dastardly creatures. He certainly has its attention.
He wouldn’t be the first politician finding themselves, after a long career spent as a runner up, suddenly and inexplicably in the spotlight. Deals have been made, bargains struck, pacts sealed, covenants kept. In return for immense power the human promises away their soul. Or, in the event the human is a politician, something of value is offered instead. But they always pay a steep price eventually. Faust isn’t the only neoliberal to bet their soul on the market.
Now, it is possible I am overreacting. I saw a similar figure over President Trump’s shoulder during his troubled presidency, though of a more impishly Bob Barker’ish hue. While the 45th President of the United States has not died — other than on the inside of course — one has to admit it has not gone well for him. Since his exit from office, the imp previously haunting and hovering about in his orbit hasn’t been seen, either.
Now, the dread and boring realist has by now pointed out these devils on the shoulder, biding their time until their hosts die, are known as Vice Presidents. Our leaders have always had one near at hand so far as we can recall, so their presence goes largely unremarked. It is just how it works. That is how evil comes to win over the powers of good; darkness is viewed as commonplace, as a part of a tradition. Ostensibly, the Vice President is chosen due to representing a voting bloc the President does not possess. This is a part of the pact.
The decision to strike this dark bargain seems to separate our secular leaders from our spiritual ones. Jesus of Nazareth determined he would not have a Vice President during what is known as the Temptation of Christ. Forty days of vigorous negotiation in the desert.
And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness for forty days, being tempted by the devil. And he ate nothing during those days. And when they were ended, he was hungry. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread.” And Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone.’” And the devil took him up and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, and said to him, “To you I will give all this authority and their glory, for it has been delivered to me, and I give it to whom I will. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” And Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve.’”
And he took him to Jerusalem and set him on the pinnacle of the temple and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you,’” And ‘On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.’”
And Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.’” And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time.
Gospel of Luke 4:1-13
I have to admit, the opportune time appears to be the crucifixion. Even Jesus ran afoul of a dark messenger. Apparently, once one of these incubi targets a leader, they always take their quarry. But the ways of devils and gods are largely inexplicable.
I can only pray for the health of our President as but a solitary voice in the wilderness. Pardon Snowden!