Kamala Harris has not had a press conference or sit-down interview since her candidacy for President. She and her staff have felt no need. 'This is America's time', she said, 'a unique opportunity, a chance of a lifetime'.
She left the rest of the homily unsaid, for her supporters and enthusiasts knew exactly what she was talking about. A woman, just think of it, in the Oval Office where only men have sat; and now nail polish, pearls, perfume, Armani, and Manolo Blahnik. And a black woman to boot, and if you count her Indian mother, the trifecta everyone has been waiting for.
This was her moment, the moment, the turning point of the Republic. In a few short months, there she would be - a person of breasts, periods, and menopause, standing in front of the nation and the world as President.
In her private moments she looked in the mirror and said the words over and over again - 'Madam President...President Harris...President Kamala Harris. It was actually happening. Now that she had gotten rid of Old Joe, the path was clear. Soon she would be at the apogee of her career, the pinnacle, the summit, all she ever worked for.
As she looked in the mirror and saw this beautiful black woman looking back at her, she said, 'You're really something!' and began to dream of the handsome courtiers and lovely ladies in waiting that would fill the White House. Pageantry, the New World Queen of the Nile, Cleopatra, Nefertiti, the treasures of the East in the West, her west.
She felt powerful, whole, fulfilled, and proud as she stepped away from the mirror and walked out of her boudoir to the cheers and smiles of her inner circle all hoping for her blessing, her reward, her respect and her love. 'Madam Vice President' would soon be history and she would emerge from her chrysalis, the most beautiful butterfly of them all.
She laughed when she heard the conservative press call for her to address the public, present her policy agenda, discuss the issues. 'These fools', she whispered to herself, who knew nothing of greatness and ascribed it only to temporal things. What were the debt, the deficit, and interest rates compared to womanhood, the ascent of woman, the era of women, and the real future of the planet?
Yes, she was an environmentalist, but talks of the snail darter, the spotted owl, and the warming climate were so many oh, hum issues compared to what she was about to become. An apocryphal, existential moment that would transcend any melting ice cap.
What about the black man, her closest aides reminded her? This is his moment too; but Kamala was as sick and tired of this black thing, this this, black that thing as everyone else. We have beaten that horse to death, she mused, and while of course she retained sympathy for 'her people', it was the greater glory, the universal glory of women that was within her reach. Compared to that everything else paled by comparison.
'Remember Hilary', said one political strategist, the presidential candidate who also felt entitled to rule, assumed victory and watched it slip out of her hands. Kamala must not take the historical moment for granted. Too many people want something more than a...here he stopped himself before using a callously misogynist term, common in the locker room but not in the Vice President's quarters. Let me rephrase that he thought to himself.
No matter what he said or might say about structural reform, immigration policy, energy independence, or social justice, Madam was not listening. Did any of the great female monarchs worry about details? Cleopatra ruled because she was sumptuous, alluring, indescribably beautiful and the match for any man. The world revolved around her. She was the epicenter of culture, civilization, and power. A woman!
Now, the reality of Kamala Harris is quite different. There are many who see nothing but a nasty, clawing, ambitious harridan with not one honorable principle in her handbag, not one original thought in her head, and no plan beyond taking her seat in the Oval Office.
Her associates knew exactly this. The image of her eviscerating attacks of a good man, an honorable man, a principled man sitting before her in hoped for confirmation to the Supreme Court was hard to shake. Her unbridled ambition, her political megalomania, her concern for nothing but absolute power was well known in Washington, so every supporter was determined to keep her away from the intense scrutiny that an impromptu press conference or one-on-one interview would be damaging. There were enough voters who felt that being a black woman was enough, so leave it at that.
'The people don't have to know', she yelled at an aide who had the temerity to suggest some kind of substantive approach. 'They already know enough', and with a flip of her hair and imitating the famous sculpture of Nefertiti, head held imperiously high, chin thrust forward, inward calm radiating through her perfect olive skin, she walked out of the room.
The code words, the memes, the allusions were enough. 'Racial justice...equality...civil rights...compassion...concern...the time is right....the time is now...the American people' meant more than a detailed plan for social and economic reform. The job was to convince voters that she had the right mettle, the right character and commitment to change American, and the rest would be worked out later.
'A black hole', commented one journalist not as enamored with the lady as most. 'An empty suit and an empty head, a vortex, a sucking spatial thing with absolutely nothing in hand'. No one in the progressive cabals or political harems of the Vice President had even heard these comments let alone reacted to them; but the journalist's words went viral, and soon the meme on the street was Black Hole Kamala, a double-entendre of genius and insight that made the rounds and was as clicked on as much as the Hawk Tuah girl's 'spit on that thang' or the English twin's 'Bet he can hear me!'
By the time it reached the Vice President's quarters it was too late, but her press agent angrily denounced it as racist and misogynistic; but those cackling to themselves knew that they could easily and plausibly hide behind the cosmological meaning, not the off-color subtext.
Maybe it was time to talk interest rates, slow the viral spread of the insult, turn the public's attention back to the greatness of woman, the destiny of Kamala, and the future of the country.
No such luck. The viral stream opened the Internet to the most hilarious take-offs on the Vice President, and all the puncturing AI transformations of the woman hit the big time. Her staff was worried.
As of this writing with three months left before the election, she, despite the wild acclaim of her supporters was tottering a bit, and God knows what will happen.
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