Joe Biden Considering Barron Trump For Attorney General

President-elect Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. is reportedly considering Donald Trump's youngest son Barron for the role of Attorney General in his administration. According to the anonymous sources, the move is meant to appease some of the more hardcore Trump supporters, many of whom refuse to believe Biden won the election, alleging widespread voter fraud. Biden is said to believe having a Trump in his administration will 'heal the wounds that divide this great country'.

Appointing Barron, who turns 15 in March, would be an unprecedented move for an incoming president. Never before has a president appointed a minor to a major cabinet role, let alone the child of the outgoing president. If appointed and confirmed by the senate, Barron would take on the role of chief lawyer to the federal government of the United States. According to Wikipedia, the original duties of the Attorney General were "to prosecute and conduct all suits in the Supreme Court in which the United States shall be concerned, and to give his advice and opinion upon questions of law when required by the president of the United States...". 

The Trump administration saw two Attorney Generals, Jeff Sessions of Alabama and William Barr of New York. Sessions' relationship with Trump bittered throughout 2018 as a result of investigations into Russian interference in the 2016 election, and Sessions' recusal from that investigation causing increasing aggro between the two septuagenarians. Barr's 2nd term as AG will mainly be remembered for 'The Barr letter', an extremely sparse redaction of the Mueller report into interference in the 2016 election, criticized by some as an over-simplified piece of partisan propaganda.  

If appointed, Barron Trump will likely have a lot on his plate. His father is reportedly considering appointing a special counsel to look into Joe Biden's son, Hunter Biden and allegations of tax fraud. Such a move would cause particular awkwardness for the incoming president and Attorney General. Biden's strategy in appointing Barron to this role is potentially to show impartiality and a bi-partisan approach to justice. Trump the younger would soon have to sink his teeth into a considerably rocky political balancing act, loyalty to the president and loyalty to his father's smear campaign.

President-Elect Joseph Robinette Biden Jr.

A source close to Barron Trump told News, News, News, News that he secretly relishes the thought of holding such massive power. "Barron has spent four years living in the shadow not only of his father, but also his two older half-brothers and half-sister (not Tiffany), he hides it well, but he's a a shrewd and tactful political operator who will strangle his enemies into submission without them even knowing. The guy's a beast, White House staff call him 'Trump Volpone' ('sly fox' in English) due to his wily, manipulative, charming nature."

Several progressive US political figures are outraged by the rumour, which is yet to be addressed by Biden's transition team. Kyle Kulinski, host of 'Secular Talk' said he felt 'physically ill' when he heard Biden was considering such an appointment. Tape Jacker, a news anchor for CNSBCSNSNSNSNBCNCNCN Morning Cuppa With Joel and Ferrari Crystals thinks the story is "a flat out lie! I know Biden, I went to his wedding, he would not appoint a kid to a cabinet role."

But right-wing radio commentator Alex Shaffer, Lord Protector of Breitbart News claims to have read an email sent by the Biden team explaining what they were looking for in an AG. "Basically the email says Biden wants to appoint a member of the Trump family, he thought Eric was too stupid, Don Jr. was too busy writing another book to follow the critically-acclaimed 'Triggered: How the Left Thrives on Hate and Wants to Silence us' and Ivanka was too attractive, which would distract Biden like it's distracted Trump. As for Tiffany, the email just contained around 50 'crying with laughter emojis', so Barron it is". 

Analysis: Keith Brown (from the theatre desk)

****

It certainly isn't everyday that you hear a president is considering appointing a child as their chief lawyer. But these are unprecedented times. This article is certainly nonsense, but is it good nonsense? Well, it's middling.

The writer opens solidly in the first few paragraphs, the characters are introduced: Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. a near 80 year old man who's just been elected president, succeeding an autocratic, hugely divisive figure known as Donald Trump. Trump's son Barron is the central character in the piece, a 14 year old blank canvas who is largely ignored by the other characters. The journalist in the piece claims he's read sources that indicate Barron might be chosen as the next Attorney General of the United States. Although an intriguing premise, this particular event seems so far-fetched, it was hard to be properly invested whilst watching it. 

But what the writer does do well is build sympathy for Barron and his political ambitions. There is a scene where several White House staff congregate and talk about Barron and his character. One of them calls him 'Trump Volpone' which is clearly meant to be a reference to Elizabethan dramatist Ben Jonson's 1605 play 'Volpone'. It's obvious the writer wishes the audience to admire the breadth of his reading, but it just comes across as arrogant, he probably hasn't read all that much, the pseudo-intellectual fuckwit.

Henry Goodman in the title role of 'Volpone', RSC Swan Theatre, 2015. This writer misses theatre and is fucking bored of politics.

All in all, the play is a success, but probably won't transfer to the West End anytime soon. Not even COVID itself would want to watch this. The lighting is a particular strong point, mesmeric and tranquil. A sapphire blue hue is projected onto a backdrop of Washington D.C in the early scenes. Later that blue turns to a fiery red as tensions simmer in the oval office. Jenny Bassett's costumes are regal and intricate, fit for the proudest statesman. One can imagine Pete Buttigieg wearing them sitting at a fake resolute desk listening to his own audio book with his hands down his pants in some funhouse mirrors. Barron wears a toga in some scenes whilst Donald Trump Jr. wears a white pointy conical hat. 

If you were expecting some drab, boring political analysis, I apologize. I'm a theatre critic first and foremost. Due to the News, News, News, News staff shortage, i've been forced to cover all sections of the publication, next week i'll be doing horoscopes, women's sex tips, 10 Origami tips to get creative this Christmas, FTSE 2020: a year in review & The Obituaries: COVID-19 Extravaganza!

Dear Eileen: How Do I Make This Christmas Special?

My name is (Fmr) sister Eileen Kirkup. I am 76 years old and I am a lapsed nun. I enjoy wax play and baking. 

This week's question comes from Daphne in Shropshire. Daphne asks, "Dear Eileen, how do I make this a special Christmas? I live alone and am unable to see any family. I don't ask for sympathy, but I'm having trouble thinking of ways to enjoy myself this Christmas. Any ideas?"

My Child,

This truly has been an annus horribilis. I am ever so sorry to hear about your situation. This is the time of year when we wish to be close to family and friends, the pandemic has driven a Stanley knife through traditions we hold sacred. 

That being said, I do believe one can find ways to spice up their Christmas day, even if one is alone. Let me introduce you to (Fmr) sister Eileen's extraordinary Christmas isolation bucket list! 

Music

My child, you must have music. You shall have music. Music is the soul's balm, it's a spiritual loofah, reaching the places of your deep unconscious other art forms, like woodwork, just cannot. Music illuminates us, transforms us, it allows us to stare our pain square in the face and enjoy ourselves while we do it. 

Music and Christmas are traditionally intertwined, joined at the hip, so to speak. One might enjoy some of the more modern 'Xmas' ballads, Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas is You', Chris Rea's 'Driving Home For Christmas' or 'Merry Muthafuckin' Xmas' by Eazy-E.

If one is a tad more traditional, one might like to listen to 'Silent Night', 'O Tannenbaum', 'O Holy Night' or 'In the Bleak Mid-Winter'. 

My personal favourite, the music I listen to every Christmas morning come rain or shine are a set of Gregorian chants, which form the central tradition of Western plainchant, a form of monophonic, unaccompanied sacred song usually performed in Latin. One might be surprised to hear that a lapsed Nun still holds this music dear, but, my child, one never stops loving music. I sit looking out over my back garden, tears in my eyes, nursing a glass of mulled wine as 'Agnus dei' plays on my surround sound speakers. It is quite simply a blissful, innocent Christmas tradition that I look forward to every festive season.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MgHclJGCOPY

Decoration

Speaking of the garden. One might not have such a space, but even if one doesn't, it's important one makes full use of the space around one, furnish it, decorate it, make it one's own. 

I consider myself very lucky to have a small garden and I take full advantage of it, especially around winter when a lot of people choose to ignore it. Usually around the 10th of December you'll see me lumbering around my village with a great big pile of plants including holly, mistletoe, yew, poinsettias, amaryllis, English ivy, and Christmas cacti (yes, Christmas cacti! What will they think of next?). It is one of my great yearly festive joys to spend a long afternoon tending to my garden. 

One must be careful with several of those aforementioned plants though, my child. They can be extremely poisonous to animals and humans alike. Yew contains chemicals called taxines that quickly cause an irregular heartbeat if eaten, it is known to be life-threatening. English Ivy can cause skin inflammation and dogs have been known to die from consuming mistletoe. But apart from those dangers, if one is vigilant and cautious, one will have a beautiful, Christmassy garden to wake up to!

Food

Just like music, food and Christmas are joined at the hip. One might enjoy making some mince pies, or a beautiful Christmas cake topped with marzipan. But there are some lesser known traditional Christmas foods that one might find very intriguing (and mouth-watering) indeed. Our German friends like to make 'stollen' a dried fruit cake made with walnuts, raisins, spices and rum. It's certainly a heavy dessert and make sure your stollen isn't stolen! I humour you, of course, my child, the neighbourhood watch are extra vigilant this time of year.

Our Italian friends make a kind of sweet bread called 'panettone'. Just like the stollen, panettone is stuffed with raisins, sultanas and various other fruits.The Greeks make a sweet pastry dish known as 'baklava', containing chopped nuts mixed with syrup sauce and sweet honey. 

If none of this takes your fancy remember a nice traditional Christmas dinner can still be made for one person. Pigs in blankets, a nice healthy dollop of sprouts (my favourite), parsnip mash, broccoli, carrots, roast potatoes and of course turkey. 

Boil the sprouts, my child, mash the parsnips, wrap the sausages with bacon, cook the broccoli, cook the carrots, roast the potatoes. Make sure God is watching you, my child. He's angry. He's very angry. Don't piss him off, my child, don't piss your God off! Praise him, he made all things. Boil the fucking broccoli, you heathen, you unbeliever! Boil the carrots, the sprouts, watch them die, watch them repent, "Save us" scream the cretinous little parsnips, all smug and faithless and wrapped in doubt, smug gits. Glory be to God, he's furious. He's angry, my child, you better believe it. The end is nigh, the rapture is upon us. Repent your sins and kill that turkey. Jesus Christ died for our sins and this turkey will die in infamy, praise be to Jesus, my child, praise be the Jesus and all who follow him. GOD IS ANGRY, HE'S GOING TO CREATE A FLOOD WHICH WILL END ALL OF HUMANITY, THIS IS THE LAST CHRISTMAS, MY CHILD, SAVE YOURSELF, REPENT. QANON, STOP THE STEAL, TAKE BACK CONTROL *&^%%^%%*())%$&())(&^KGFGHJC%.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

My child, i'd like to apologize for that outburst. I'm sometimes plagued with severe existential doubt. People think it's easy for those who have left religion behind and have developed a new outlook on life, but in truth, it's a sort of bereavement. I am bereaved of sense. Some days, nothing makes sense to me. In a year like this, these cavernous feelings of impending doom are ever so frightening. But one must never let oneself spiral. One must believe that one has an adamantine inner steel, even when one feels weak and breached of all comfort and knowing. 

The most important thing to remember this Christmas is you are not alone. God may not be watching you, but you can be sure as hell the neighbourhood watch are. I know a gentleman in my village, Carl, who takes this security very seriously. Even if the crime rates in my village are extraordinarily low, Carl patrols the streets every night with a head torch, a rake and a dog whistle (Carl has a crippling fear of mythical black dogs so carries a dog whistle wherever he goes. I've told the old boy that there's unlikely to be a giant blood-thirsty hound in Budgens, but he won't listen). Carl and I have struck up quite a close friendship, it's rather wonderful to find such a jolly good companion so late in life. Who knows what the future holds? 

My child, I wish you a very happy Christmas and marvelous new year. I'm off to apologize to my neighbour, their Jack Russell dog ingested some of my mistletoe which was hanging over their fence and unfortunately died. I feel awfully mortified. The children loved that dog. At least I'll be having a good night's sleep for the first time in 5 years! Silver linings, my child, silver linings!

Yours Truly,

Eileen.

This is Carl, the neighbourhood watch gentleman in my village. He's holding a Whale penis! What a naughty sense of humour he has!

House of Lords to Replace Red Leather Benches Amidst Constitutional Urine Crisis

The House of Lords have today announced they plan to replace their famous red leather benches owing to the strong odours of urine being reported in the chamber. 

The 'Urine Crisis of 2020' as it's being coined by some, began in August when the familiar aroma was commented on by Baroness Forsyth of Clandestyn. "One ought not to be subjected to such smells when one is in one's place of work. One detected a pungent and rather disagreeable smell emanating from the opposition benches."

Baroness Forsyth, who was appointed to the House of Lords in 1925, sits on the Conservative benches. Although her claims would suggest the urine smells emanated from the Labour benches, several sources have suggested otherwise. Lordswatch, a nonprofit organization which regularly surveys the House of Lords chamber for structural inadequacy or signs of archaic obsolescence, said they believe the unfortunate miasma to have originated on the Conservative benches.

"We believe quite firmly that Baroness Forsyth's assertions are categorically untrue", the organization told us by fax. "We performed several tests in the chamber, collecting samples from the seats, swabbed spittle from some geriatric Barons and asked Bishops to urinate in a test tube during morning prayers. As a result of this rigorous and time-consuming research, we can say with 100% accuracy that the urination happened on the Conservative benches. Who'd have thought octogenarian Tories could be responsible for such a pungent and suffocating smell?"

Workmen will need at least four weeks to work on maintenance to eradicate the parliamentary pong out of existence. While this maintenance work will be fairly easy and cheap to undertake, a problem has arisen. How does one temporarily accommodate 796 members? And how does one ask the members already situated in the chamber to leave?

Colm Caoihmin, CEO of Wiltshire Antique Relocation Ltd. (WAR) has been called upon by the Leader of the House of Lords to find a solution. "I have to admit, when I took this job at WAR, I didn't think I'd one day be tasked with shifting aging bureaucrats from luxurious chambers of carved wood, gold leaf with embossed leather seats". Caoihmin accepts that he'll receive some considerable opposition from more stubborn peers. "I have a blacklist of around two dozen members who might raise a stink, so to speak". This blacklist is said to include Liberal Democrat peer Lord Flopsweat of Sprite-Marigold de Clune, Labour's Baroness Gillette of Paris Saint-Germain and the Lord Bishop of Colchester Sponsored by Uber Eats.

The urine smell is said to have happened during this particular session. Any guesses which one it might be?

The House of Lords has historically been a controversial constitutional talking point. When Tony Blair crusaded to power in circa 1997 AD, one of the promises in Labour's manifesto was to remove the hereditary peers from the Lords entirely. After a long and bitter war between the reformers and the more conservative peers, during which many Labour members' pints of IPA were contaminated with spiteful aristocratic ejaculate, it was agreed 92 hereditary peers would be able, at any one time, to sit in the Lords. The House of Lords Act 1999 marked a drastic and hugely watered-down historical change for UK politics. 

Analysis: Alejandro Hitchens 

First of all may I just say it's about time I was invited to write for an esteemed publication like News, News, News, News? I've spent my career writing horoscopes for dentist waiting room magazines and creating fake Twitter accounts to influence elections and public opinion. Remember Brexit? You're welcome lmao. It feels good to finally step out of the shadow cast by my two older brothers.Well, the dead one at least.

Right, so this urine debacle. Honestly, I turn away for one second and the next thing I know bodily fluids are testing the strength of our democracy. Talk about a 'golden age'. For fuck's sake. I remember back in my college days, Thatcher was banning milk in schools, The Aristocats was in cinemas, you were able to wear a balaclava and throw bricks at the local Pakistani-owned corner shop and not be called a racist by the PC liberal media. The good ol' days. 

Back in the good ol' days the House of Lords was a great and mighty institution filled to the brim by proper upper class, upper crust gentlemen who actually gave a toss about ol' blighty and her beautiful complexion. The Daily Mail recently did a study, funded by an anonymous donor known as 'A Banks', which showed the House of Lords will be entirely populated by people born after 1960 by 2050. Am I the only one who won't let this stand? Why won't athletes kneel for this cause?

So why has the Lords reached rock bottom? Well, to answer this question we'll need to examine power. Those who have it, those who wield it, those who want it, those who crave it, those who forsake it, those who want it back and those who can't make up their minds. 

Jordan Peterson, my spiritual Daddy, the modern day Aristotle and the sexiest, most telegenic piece of meat academia has ever seen, said "Power is competence". I wholeheartedly agree with Daddy Peterson and I don't care if his critics say he only appeals to white, adolescent, empathically-challenged, far-right, gullible teenage men obsessed with the grievance studies affair (did you know that Peter Boghossian, one of the philosophers involved in the affair wrote a foreword for Stefan Molyneux's book? Stefan Molyneux, the white supremacist, the eugenecist?) because he appeals to me too, and i'm in my 60s. As far as i'm concerned his word is gospel. I'm currently working on a marble statue of him standing 7ft tall in a heroic pose, naked as the day Mama Peterson birthed him, with chiseled, glistening abs, hung like a Playboy-Mansion-Minotaur-gigolo with golden locks of lustrous, silky hair meandering down to his firm buttocks. 

But I digress. 

Power is indeed competence. But what is competence? One might say competence is being able to sit through a 15-minute speech in the House of Lords without pissing oneself. I would. Even if the pissing culprit has 50 years of experience in British political life, isn't it right that they forswear all 'pomp and majesty' when the gremlins of incontinence whisper in their ear? Isn't it right that they 'deny their sacred state' when crucial legislation isn't being debated due to the chamber smelling like the urinals at a Championship football club's stadium? I bloody well think so.

Power is meant to be ethereal, fleeting and temporary. It's meant to be handled responsibly and passed on to the next geezer when the time is right. It's not to be coveted and gripped tightly with both talons. 

The US has just elected a 78 year old president, who'll succeed a 74 year old. Granted, the 78 year old isn't obese and he doesn't believe physical exercise wastes the finite energy of the human body (that's not a joke, Trump actually believes that, go check it out, this is the guy you love, Karen). 

Joe Biden has run for president three times, in 1988, 2008 and 2020. He was elected to the US Senate at 29 years old and has been a major figure on the US political stage for over half a century, mainly being on the wrong side of history for most of that time. Judging by these facts, it should be abundantly clear that Biden's always aspired to the top job. 

Now, let me talk about castration, political opportunism, Machiavellianism and opera. 

Castrati (plural) were male opera singers who could achieve notes similar to those of sopranos or contraltos. How did they achieve this, you ask? Ho ho ho! Are you sitting comfortably? Well, then i'll begin. 

Castration before puberty.

(No, again, this is real, this actually happened. This is the music you love, Karen).

One of the most famous Castrato singers was Farinelli, who became a court favourite of Spanish King Philip V. Philip's wife, Elisabetta Farnese believed Farinelli's voice could cure her husband's deep depression. It's an incredibly poignant story and the subject of Claire Van Kampen's 2015 play 'Farinelli and the King'. 

Farinelli, (real name: Carlo Maria Michelangelo Nicola Broschi) the most famous castrati singer of his time (1705-1782)

The only Castrato whose voice is on record is Alessandro Moreschi, who made the recordings in 1902 and 1904. The practice largely fizzed out after the 18th century. It was made illegal in Italy in 1861, and after that, only a few Castrati could be found in the darkened corners of the Sistine Chapel, lamenting their outcast state. 

In Martin St. John Travers' 2006 book 'The Castratocracy: A Dystopian Britain Imagined', he envisages a political system whereby politicians can only achieve certain ministerial jobs if they've undergone castration. The book is part narrative, charting the political rise of the fictional Bernard Jones, MP for New Sarum, who is forced to choose between ambition and his genitals. 

St. John Travers also devotes a large portion of his book to theorizing the constitutional ramifications of such a system. Would the term 'Machiavellian' be common parlance? Would journalists accuse ambitious politicians of 'climbing the greasy pole'? Would Michael Gove even exist? Who would occupy these positions of power? What seems at first like a silly, futile, nonsensical dystopian fiction could actually reveal a lot about power, human nature and who we elect to make key political decisions. 

Michael Gove, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster and Minister for the Cabinet Office, has often been included in 'Weird Crush' lists in women's fox-hunting magazines found in the Cotswolds area.

In the opening chapter he asks us to take a look at today's government, mainly the four 'great offices of state', prime minister, chancellor of the exchequer, foreign secretary & home secretary, and determine whether the current occupants would still hold those jobs if the law required they underwent voluntary castration. In the home secretary's case it wouldn't work as 1) she's a woman, and 2) she'd be the one doing the castrating, as Philip Rutnam would attest.

If one thinks about St. John Travers' hypothesis, one would very much doubt that any one of Boris Johnson, Rishi Sunak and Demonic Wrath would happily forswear their nutsacks for the trappings of office. This was certainly my initial thought. But then I realized it's the other way round. We currently have a government (woman aside) full of politicians who would gladly be castrated if it meant ascending the ranks and gaining power. In case you're wondering, St. John Travers does briefly go into how this affects Machiavellian female politicians, but not very satisfactorily. In my review of the book in 'The Times Literary Supplement' I criticize the glaring omission of gender balance in the book.

The book has been compared by critics to George Orwell's '1984', Aldous Huxley's 'Brave New World' and Donald Trump Jr's 'Triggered: How the Left Thrives on Hate and Wants to Silence Us' and I can see why. St. John Travers has asked some very timely and relevant questions: how do we, the public, really view our politicians? Do we think they deserve the offices they hold? Would we idolize them if we knew they'd made such a life-changing bodily sacrifice? How differently would they make decisions in the national interest if they'd forfeited their bollocks? Would Boris Johnson be our prime minister? Or would he just be a lowly Sun journalist, living off his family's wealth and donating his sperm every week with the hope of building a dynasty of Etonian crooks, then realizing what he thought was a sperm clinic he'd been sending his samples to was actually a local launderette? 

Of course, there are several conspiracy theorists who believe world leaders have actually undergone voluntary castration to attain their power. The 'Illumicastrati Theory' spread online in the autumn of 2014 when a photograph circulated of the PM at the time, David Cameron, appearing to add some sort of balm to his genital area. Several anonymous users in various Internet forums pointed out that the area where his penis and scrotum should be was surprisingly smooth. George Osborne, the Chancellor at the time, lent credence to this theory when a leaked audio tape was released of him saying, albeit in a muffled tone, "He doesn't have any balls, for goodness' sake. If he did, he'd tell the ERG to stick it where the sun don't shine, but no, David chooses to acquiesce to the far right of his party. he's ball-less I tell you!"

While this is certainly interesting evidence of a wider Illumicastrato world order, I wouldn't spend too much time following any of these leads. St. John Travers' book has caught the British public's imagination. All other political literature centering on power and decision-making is now embarrassingly obsolete. The book devotes an entire chapter to the House of Lords and how it would function in a castratocracy. 

Needless to say, we would have no constitutional urine crisis if all the Lords were castrated.