Okay, maybe not “perfect,” precisely. Fitting, appropriate, or consonant, more like. Justified, say.

Consider for a moment, and be grateful for, how perfect “Joe Biden” is as president of this foundering republic. He and his family project the rectified essence of every depravity now driving the life of our nation to some murky bottom, where it may be forced to assess its sorry state, repent, and perhaps recover (or just give up and die). There he stands, without ambiguity or conscience: “Joe Biden,” the personification of a failed state.

As a criminal enterprise, for instance, the Biden family influence-peddling operation among foreign powers reflects exactly the racketeering character of corporate America today — which is to say, making money dishonestly, and often for doing nothing.

The Biden business model also applies nicely to medicine and higher education, two endeavors saturated in prestige and pomp, like the doings in the White House, but which, similarly to that hotbed of policy and action, in the case of medicine, produces shocking amounts of unnecessary death (est. 251,000 a year from iatrogenic treatment errors), and in the case of higher ed, the production of specious and harmful Big Ideas — while both endeavors expand like turbo-tumors within the dying body of an expiring manufacturing economy.

As in the Biden model, dishonesty is now the keystone in both “Meds” and “Eds.” Our public health officialdom hasn’t stopped lying about the Covid-19 episode since it began, and in every aspect from the origin of the disease (if that’s even what it was), to the deaths statistically attributed to it, to everything about the “vaccines” cooked up to stop it. In turn, those officials coerced America’s doctors into withholding the best treatments (ivermectin, hydroxychloroquine) while applying deadly protocols (remdesivir plus intubation) guaranteed to kill hospital patients — which the government then rewarded with gargantuan bonus payments.

Higher ed has now turned its energies from learning to political activism, meaning the performance of morality preening stunts for acquiring status under the pretense of addressing social problems that boil down to bad behavioral choices and mental illness. Higher ed is now in the business of generating more of both those things in the form of manufactured racial antagonism and sexual torment (in partnership with the medical establishment). All fields of study in college are now racialized and genderized, and all at the expense of organized knowledge, which gets burdened with fatuous theory and spurious crypto-religious missions. The price of admission to this carnival of fakery multiplies at a faster rate than the generalized annual dollar inflation, abetted by federal loan guarantees that “Joe Biden,” in his munificence, seeks to abridge with a jubilee for student debt.

Of course, it’s the fantastic psychodrama within the Biden family that presents the most arresting model for America. “Joe Biden” tells us over and over that he loves his son, who he calls “the smartest man I know.” A father’s love is a wonderful thing, for sure. And yet, is there anything that Hunter Biden has not done to destroy “the Big Guy,” short of, say, driving a number nine knitting needle ear-to-ear through the old man’s skull?

OH NOES, we must all hope and pray that such a thing will never, ever happen. Why, that would be just awful. PLEASE DON’T DO IT, HUNTER! Well, unless an opportunity presents, and you just feel like it that day.

Putting the shoe on the other foot, though: is there anything Pedo Jaux has not done to destroy Hunter? Using his son as a bagman, then glomming a worse than usurious share of those ill-gotten gains for himself; blandly placing him in dangerous situations shaking down ruthless men; idolizing and lionizing his dead brother whilst essentially ignoring him; shaming his entire dysfunctional “family” with all his grifting, his groping, his serial sexual deviancy—time after time, Hunter has been urged into criminal behavior, without even the courtesy of a reach-around for shouldering all that risk.

So if this greatly-put-upon Prodigal did wake up one late afternoon with a sudden irresistible urge to spike the Big Guy’s brain via his crusty earhole, who could really blame him for acting on it?

Meh, then again, it might just be a case of the bad apple not falling far from the poisoned tree. Myself, if the whole damned Organized Crime familia dropped dead five minutes from now, I wouldn’t be shedding any tears over it.

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