Joe Biden’s Neutered Sexual Repose In The Oval Office–Where Is Donald Trump When We Really Need Him?

Joe Biden woke up beside the woman to whom he had been married for years.   Why, he wondered, am I still here in this same dry, sexless bed? Duty to the good people of Delaware and now, the people of the United States, he answered; but also because I like it this way.

Jimmy Carter confessed to immoral thoughts; and he thought he was doing the nation favor by coming clean; but the electorate turned him out, not wanting anything to do with a wussy President. Americans may say they admire rectitude, moral principle, and God-fearing humility; but they want no such thing for themselves or especially for their president.  It is no surprise that despite John F Kennedy’s political blunders – the Bay of Pigs, the bungled Castro assassination, and adventurism in Vietnam – he was beloved.  

Hollywood tanned, confident, suave, and alluring he was a man’s man and a woman’s dream.  Although he was from a wealthy family, and heir to a financial and political fortune, Kennedy was loved because of his sexiness, his cool, his wife, and his lovers.

Every president has had his mistresses and casual cinq-a-sept dalliances – only Richard Nixon and Jimmy Carter kept their own sexual counsel.  Nixon was  faithful to Pat because no woman was interested in him despite his power and influence – too creepy was the word on the street, no telling what he would do in bed.   Carter was a dutiful husband thanks to Biblical principles – he was a devotee of St Paul who warned men away from women and said, “Marry if you must”; and took his admonitions to heart; so much so that he confessed to the American public that he had sinned with lust in his heart. 

LBJ had ‘protected’ sex on the cool lawns by the Tidal Basin thanks to his Secret Service pimps and lookouts. Even Martin Van Buren and James Buchanan, long-forgotten  American presidents had their dalliances.  

Billie Hunter, leggy vaudevillian showgirl was a favorite of Van Buren who reportedly was besotted by the sequined, bejeweled, dark eyed Virginian; and nothing could stop Buchanan from boarding the Presidential Express to Atlanta for Starr Blantyre.

Bill Clinton despite his station, wealth, and influence could never leave his taste for Arkansas hillbilly poontang behind.  The nation watched and wondered.  While the potentates of Europe squired beautiful Mediterranean princesses and Persian divas, Clinton had his with nobodies from canebrakes and cypress swamps.  

All would have been forgiven had he owned up and come right out and said it, even shown off his cracker arm candy to the press; but he hid behind syllogisms and legalese.  

President Mitterrand of France stood at the graveside of his wife with his mistress and love-daughter, unapologetic and proud.  His successor Francois Sarkozy lived in the Elysees with his mistress, a well-known film actress while his wife was still in the wings. 

One way or another and with few exceptions, men in power are lovers.  Henry Kissinger was famous for stating the obvious – power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and he unashamedly bedded women up and down K Street.  Sex is a perk of high office whether for White House operatives, K Street lobbyists, or big time developers.  Men in power are always in sexual overdrive and women want to be part of the ride.

Joe Biden had gotten a bad rap for touching women before he was elected president.  Nothing untoward or liable was charged – the soon-to-be president simply liked casual sexual camaraderie – an arm around the shoulders of an attractive intern, a buss on the cheek of a lovely young voter, arm-in-arm with a state attorney general – but there was always the lingering doubt about his intentions.  

Most savvy men knew that Biden’s overtures meant nothing.  Men who deal suggestively with women in public turn tail when the lights go down; and Biden’s sexual ineptitude did not go unnoticed by the average voter.  Men knew that he was a flimsy lover, all frills and flowers but no action; and women looked past him to his young, delicious-looking aides in the wings. 

Biden was happy to be in the White House. First and foremost, he could stop running for office which meant dropping all the hail-fellow-well-met regular guy glad handing.  He could sit comfortably in the Oval Office, surrounded by aides and advisors, work a decent day, and then retire to the Lincoln bedroom with a Louis Lamour western.  Not only did his office free him from the social pressures of running for it but being almost 80 gave him untold sexual license – license that is to do nothing.  

Finally he was free from ‘nooky angst’, that awful feeling of having to perform with a doggy blind date from Bryn Mawr.  Never again would he have to show his macho creds which he knew he never really had but were ascribed to him as he ascended to higher and higher office.  Now he could relax and recline on Pennsylvania Avenue without a care in the world.

Not only that, but his progressive credentials gave him additional cover.  Feminists were all about male sexual demurral if not remove.  Anything that smacked of sexual interest was immediately ragged for abuse or male privileged  ignorance at best; so having an elderly, sexually diffident, avowedly gender-sensitive president was all that they could have ever hoped for.

President Biden played the part to the nines.  He hugged transgender athletes (hugging the sexually questionable was not only OK but preferred in progressive circles), recruited queer-end LGBTQIA+ men/women to sit in his cabinet, and posed with other-sexed Army sergeants back from Afghanistan.

While this de-sexed, neutered persona has appealed to the progressive Left, it has only energized Trump supporters.  Trump, squire of beauty queens, sponsor of beauty pageants, escort of arm candy, unabashed admirer of women, was also America’s president.  He was Our Man in Hollywood, Las Vegas, and the mean streets of New York – an oversized, outrageous, unbridled, and unstoppable male presence.  

OK, he was no JFK, man of taste, breeding, and sophisticated charm; but neither is your average American who lights up with Cadillacs, jewels, showgirls, feathers, and make up and not to Pablo Casals, Nantucket, and Beacon Hill.

Now that Joe Biden is in the White House, the average American has neither the suave, handsome, sexy Kennedy nor the low-end Walmart troll Clinton.  They have a sexual neuter – a cardboard suit propped up by feminists shills and alternately-sexed aides who encourage him to ‘do the right thing’, to act responsibly, to view women as bureaucrats and men as privileged overlords; to look to the ceiling in elevators when beautiful women step aboard, to pretend that sexual attraction is a retrograde male invention.

For all of Trump’s alleged political faults, he was his own man – untethered to feminist enforcers, revisionist ideologues, and black demagogues.  He was a man who loved women, who couldn’t get enough of them, who admired their beauty, who was attracted by their charm and allure, and who would never apologize for it.  

For all of his bourgeois taste -  showgirls, diamonds, sheath dresses, high heels, and low-end makeup – he saw women for women beneath the greasepaint. By comparison Joe Biden is a shadow man, a flickering image of maleness, a dismally poor imitation of a Putin, Xi, Ayatollah, or Japanese shogun.  If men snickered around the hookah about Clinton’s cigars and finger-doodling of Monica Lewinsky, they at least recognized him as one of them.  Joe Biden? Like his gender-fluid politics, neither here nor there.

Does any of this matter? Of course it does.  The world’s electorates may not judge political desirability on the basis of sex, but it helps.  The fact that Putin is an alpha dog doesn’t hurt his ratings and gives him leg up in geopolitics.  Before he even enters the room with neutered Biden, he is playing whites.

Even Richard Nixon – a universally unloved man – was at least sexually polarizing.  Women hated him, not because of his womanizing or disrespect, but because of his arrogant, male meanness.  That’s something at least.  Poor Uncle Joe can’t muster more than an old lady’s buss on the cheek. 

He, however, is the man for our times.  He is a sexual progressive as well as a political one – a man of sexual indifference; an either-or, come what may President, a man who has abjured potency in favor of inclusivity.  A neuter. 

The Left is as happy as can be that such an un-imposing  man is in the White House.  A man with no white male privilege, no machismo, or no abusive sexual drive – a man with absolutely none of the above, but also only a stick figure, a sexual cipher, a man for any comer.  Where is Donald Trump when we really need him?