“Butter, Flour, Eggs, Oil…”

Not on topic, but I couldn’t resist….

 

This video is from just a few days ago. 

From 0:22 to 0:24 you have the disquieting, scary portrait of the 2020 Democrat candidate-to-be.

Looking in the void, with a scared face, his mouth half open in a typical demented posture, you can literally see into what has remained of Creepy Joe’s brain. Watch as his tired neurons try to digest what he has just said and need two seconds of “look at me, I have dementia”-phase before realising he is on the wrong bus. At this point, the man tries to remember the right answer and… fails again.

The light goes out a second time, during the same speech, and this was captured in the video at 0:59 to 1:02. Again, it is embarrassing and scary. Again, the man cannot resume his train of thoughts. It is not that he, at times, tries to remember the name of the whatchamacallit and fails; this is normal at almost 80, and would not be scary if the man can keep his reasoning together and can show he still “has it”. No, this guy completely loses his train of thoughts and stares at the void, evidently wondering on which planets he is living, before the supply of electricity in his tired brain starts again and normal activity is, for the moment, resumed.

If Trump had one, one moment like this, you wouldn’t be able to see anything else on cable TV!

This is really, truly scary. I can’t imagine what horror show a three hour debate with Trump would become. Trump would not have any mercy of the guy, either, and nor should he!

It is abundantly clear that this guy can’t survive I do not say three hours, but likely even forty, thirty, perhaps as little as twenty minutes of debate without the darkness descending on his creepy brain for two, three, four seconds at a time, after which he cannot resume the train of thoughts of before the brain blackout. Another two months, and the guy might well start his answers with “butter, flour, eggs, oil….” before trying to recover with some lame joke.

This guy needs a quiet environment, a TV screen, a hot cup of milk with some honey, a blanket on his legs, and to be left alone, because what is happening to him isn’t beautiful and we do not wish it to anyone. But hey, he wants to run for President. He deserves no pity and no quarter.

At this point I am awaiting the excuse that he will choose to avoid the debates, all of them.

It will not work. That’s a lot of votes for Trump. But it’s better for Dementia Joe to be seen as a coward than to be blown to smithereens by the impact with the Trump Train, with the Country watching.