Could I Have Cracked the Biden Brain Code?

Somewhere in the kaleidoscopic gray matter of Joseph Robinette Biden, amidst the weirdo Walter Mitty–esque fantasies and bogus tales of truck driving and black-church attendance, of contrived bravado about South African jailings and Naval Academy acceptance, of college-transcript lies and speech plagiarism, are geriatric neurons clipping and misfiling memory bits, gathering some together via mental duct-tape, rendering the ensemble into a never-happened movie recollection, which finds its way to the presidential malarkey-hole, from where it is blathered into our culture, taking the form of the phrase “lying dog-faced pony soldier” — uttered with confidence as if the head-scratching insult is some widely understood cinematic reference, à la “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore” and “What we have here is failure to communicate.”