Stupor Wednesday

Joe Biden is the presumptive Democratic candidate for president.  We know because Sen. Ron Johnson (R-COWS) is already planning yet another dirt-gathering assault on Hunter Biden.  Because this is how you campaign when your slate is topped by a depraved, treasonous grifter and a science-hating half-wit struggling to cope with a potential pandemic.

So much progress has been made against COVID-19 that Pence was able hold a "press conference" at the White House which reporters were not allowed to record.  Older members of the press had a chance to dust off their stenographic skills, as writing has not yet been banned.  So don't use the word "censorship," or steps may have to be taken.   

Trump has probably congratulated himself for the Dow Jones rebound today, but most serious people read it as a sigh of relief, with the insurance industry inhaling most deeply.  They have again avoided the possibility of the kind of national health coverage enjoyed by citizens of civilized countries.  Thanks, Joe!

Guam may be the place where America's day begins, but last night all eyes were on American Samoa, where the Democratic caucus gave four delegates to Mike Bloomberg and one to Tulsi Gabbard.  Nevertheless, Bloomberg decided to cut his losses, as thrilled as the insurance industry to have dodged both Sanders and Warren, the people who don't think we should wait for benign billionaires to give their surplus away.  Mike couldn't get it done.  Tulsi is on the phone to Moscow, nailing down her position as the new Jill Stein.  Allegedly.

It was nearly the Ambassador Hotel all over again.  Two vegan protesters rushed Joe Biden in Los Angeles shouting, "Let dairy die."  They were expertly blocked by Jill Biden and a campaign aide, Symone Sanders.*  You rock, ladies.  These fanatics can have my cheese and ice cream when they pry them from my cold, sticky fingers.  Rep. Bennie Thompson (D-MS), chair of the House Homeland Security Committee, has requested Secret Service protection for all candidates.  With so many armed  Trumpanzees at large, I can't believe it hasn't already been provided.

Ronan Farrow is shopping for a new publisher because his house, Hachette, is bringing out Apropos of Nothing, a memoir by his probable father Woody Allen.  (Farrow prefers to believe his father was renowned feminist Frank Sinatra.)  He may find that publishers are in business primarily to make money, even if that involves distributing the work of people he hates.  

Trump held a rally of 30,000 supporters in Charlotte Monday night, in a venue with a capacity of 8,600.  Is there nothing he can't do? 

Well, maybe.  His historic peace agreement with the Taliban in Afghanistan lasted exactly one day.  Care to spin that one, Eric?  (Hint:  Blame Obama.)

*Stephen A. Crockett, Jr., has identified Ms. Sanders as a Dora Milaje, elite female fighters from Wakanda.  I really need to catch up on my movies and comic books.