Worst day of her life

Four years ago today the Secret Service had to bundle the Vice-President of the United States into a secure bunker to protect him from the domestic terrorists who had stormed the Capital to prevent the certification of Joe Biden as the duly elected 46^th President. A day of infamy.

If such a large percentage of the US electorate wasn’t clearly brain dead, Kamala Harris would have just finished certifying her own election. Instead, she’s just had to listen to multiple Senators address her as “Madam President” (in recognition of her role as President of the Senate) as they tallied the electoral college votes, before declaring that the Tangerine Wankmaggot is the duly elected 47^th President. She did it, as she does everything (unlike the Wankmaggot), with class.

I don’t know what her next act will be. Her shot at the White House is over. She will not be the 2028 candidate for the Democrats. (I haven’ the foggiest who might be.) I hope it’s a good act. She deserves it.

To the tens of millions of women (and men) who were all in on electing an indisputably qualified woman of colour as the next President, all I can say is: I feel your pain. If ever there was a time, this was it.

The Wankmaggot got roughly the same number of votes last year as he did in 2020. Harris got six million fewer votes than Biden. To those millions who decided to sit this one out, I say: This is your fault. Whatever happens in the next four years, however awful it is (and it will be awful), this is entirely your fault. Fuck you.