Hey: You Can't DOUBLE Destroy Your Legacy!

By Joe Biden

Photo by Gage Skidmore.

People are aghast at my pardon of my son Hunter. They’re stunned that after repeated, adamant, unequivocal denials that I would not pardon him, I did it anyway. Some feel that the choice is especially egregious because my campaign against Trump was based on character and respect for the rule of law. And some are saying that this move makes my words ring hollow, and that my reputation is irrevocably damaged.

I strongly disagree. I have not revealed myself to be a hypocrite, nor have I ruined my reputation. And that is because I already did those things. By staying around too long and fumbling the presidency back to Trump, I made it abundantly clear that I am a selfish old fool whose talk of putting country before self was total bullshit. And, if you don’t already know that, then — with all due respect — you’re really not paying attention.

No one could have choreographed a more perfect destruction of my legacy than what I achieved over the past year. It was perfect — first, I made it impractical for any real candidate to challenge me in the primary, unless you consider Dean Phillips a real candidate, which no one does. Next, I hid my condition until my big “Surprise — I’m way worse!” coming out party at the debate. Then, after a month of refusing to face reality like a toddler trying to negotiate their way out of bed time, I handed the reins to Kamala Harris, an undistinguished politician with “FILL-IN CANDIDATE” tattooed on her forehead. And I did all this while describing Trump as an existential threat! “I ended the Trump era” was my whole brand! It’s like if Raid introduced a new product that not only didn’t kill cockroaches, but made them grow to the size of ocean liners and become super intelligent — after that, Raid wouldn’t make you think “household pesticide” so much as “engineers of the insect apocalypse.”

Did you ever notice how immaculately I botched the switch to Harris? Obviously, I shouldn’t have picked her for VP in the first place — she might have had the most embarrassing primary run of anyone in 2020, and remember: Mike Bloomberg ran that year. But I picked her anyway, and I undercut her by yelling from a mountaintop that I picked her because of her race and gender. Then, I put her “in charge” of immigration, which is like handing someone a live grenade and saying “Here: You’re in charge.” Finally, I mounted a whisper campaign that argued that Democrats had to stick with me because Kamala made Michael Dukakis look like Lincoln…and then I picked her as my successor anyway! Look at a flow chart of those decisions — I deftly navigated to the worst possible outcome.

So: What’s all this crap about my legacy being damaged by the pardon? What legacy? I whizzed this transition down my leg in a way that political scientists will marvel at for decades — I’m already firmly ensconced in the James Buchanan tier of presidents. So, fuck anything and everything, right? I can pardon my son, finger an intern — maybe I should try some of that “crack” that Hunter is always talking about. Because my disastrous decision to go for a second term isn’t a stain on my record — it’s the thing I’ll be remembered for! Da Vinci = Mona Lisa. Gershwin = Rhapsody in Blue. Joe Biden = the political equivalent of saving a child from drowning and then backing over that same child with your car. At worst, this pardon will be on my Wikipedia page under a section labeled: “Other Bad Decisions”.

Some things are binary. You’re either dead or alive. You’re wet or you’re dry. You’ve either taken your reputation out behind the barn, shot it in the back of the head, and covered the corpse with manure, or you haven’t. I clearly have. No sentient person could think that anything I said about the importance of moving beyond Trump’s lawbreaking and narcissism was anything except self-serving patter. So, to hell with it: I’m pardoning my son. Maybe I’ll also swipe some antiques from the White House and start a dogfighting ring — all bets are off! Because there’s no point in backtracking once you’re well past the point of embarrassment.

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