After Biden’s horrific debate performance on Thursday, much of the media world reluctantly conceded that our 46th president looks like a lost toddler. And then there’s Vogue — which literally couldn’t stop the presses. The fashion-bible-turned-Dem-PR-machine was already rolling out its July issue, with cover model Jill Biden in a silk cream Ralph Lauren dress that retails for $4,990. The magazine landed on the internet Monday morning with a resounding, wincing thud. It was tone deaf. It was tacky — but this shoot and interview, conducted months ago, would have been messy even if the debate disaster had never happened. Jill has the gall to tell the writer, “We don’t need more chaos.” This from one of the country’s top chaos agents, a woman who is reportedly encouraging her visibly frail husband by telling him, and us, that he should keep running the country. The sycophantic piece paints her as a tireless everywoman out in the world: the president’s eyes and ears. (Hey, someone’s gotta be at this point.) “Look, I know that food prices are up,” she said, adding that she shops for her own groceries in Wilmington, Delaware. She still teaches at a community college in Virginia. She’s a “down-to-earth Dr. B.,” who assigns her students articles instead of books, “because books are expensive.” She gathers and feeds Joe intel. “I tell him what I’m seeing, what I’m hearing — and he gets it. And this is where the magic happens,” she says. But there’s nothing enchanting about Jill shepherding her husband through menial tasks to appear capable. “Joe, you did such a great job,” Jill told him after the debate, as if speaking to a child embarking on his potty training. “You answered every question.” No 2024 Biden campaign piece would be complete without a healthy infusion of the old fear-mongering Dem mantra “Democracy is on the line” — which Jill literally tells Vogue, before rolling out variations: “Each campaign is unique. But this one, the urgency is different. We know what’s at stake,” she says. “Joe is asking the American people to come together to draw a line in the sand against all this vitriol.” Too bad the Vogue writer never addressed Biden’s advanced age. Or how an abundance of trips around the sun have clearly taken a physical and mental toll on the incumbent, who is prone to fall, freeze and mumble. At the 11th hour, the magazine added an online editor’s note addressing last Thursday’s debate disaster. “[The Biden family] will not let those 90 minutes define the four years he’s been president. We will continue to fight,” Jill said with the deluded confidence of Apollo Creed going into round two against Ivan Drago. But we’re not talking about the last four years. That’s history. We’re talking about the next four. At a frail 81, Joe’s sharpest days are in the rearview mirror. We know it. The Bidens know it. Yet the president’s family — reportedly led by his wife and his addict son Hunter — is operating under the assumption that they’re entitled to a second term. That we’re living in the United States of Biden, not America. Jill added that her husband would “will always do what’s best for the country.” Except step down, of course. When most families see their loved ones careening down the express lane to dementiaville, they take the keys. The Bidens, however, summon a world class photographer and the exacting hand of Anna Wintour. Not to mention George Clooney to front a fundraiser. They are arrogantly operating in a bygone era, when glamour moved voters. Relying on showbiz and fashion to make their desired illusion reality. Ultimately, it’s about keeping a grip on the lever of power, and shamelessly exploiting an old man to do so. In the Vogue profile’s opening paragraph, the writer inadvertently tells on the Bidens’ intoxication by influence. “If you want to know what power feels like, try to get yourself driven around in a motorcade,” the story says describing how they “run red lights and whip round curves so fast I can barely take in the commonplace American view. Tract housing, big box stores, churches, office parks, semi-industrial no-man’s-land.” Vogue gushes that, “It’s as if the world is holding its breath. For you. Also, rules don’t apply.” Maybe for a time, they don’t. But Father Time is, indeed, undefeated. Biden didn’t break his leg, or get a knee replacement. His brain power is withering in front of our very eyes. Sadly, Biden will be remembered not as a spry, verbal sparrer with the gift of gab, but as the picture of aging and senility. Confused, doddering and in
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