Not Biden’s age, as such, but his cognitive decline renders him disabled. His aiders and abettors discharge most of the duties of the office, with him serving as a useful idiot. He’s just a clueless figurehead. But there is one thing the malevolent minions cannot usurp from his duties: he has the sole authority to launch nuclear weapons. Outside of the White House, that authority can be initiated by the Presidential Emergency Satchel, colloquially called the Nuclear Football.

Is there anything -- anything -- more terrifying than a bumbling Biden in control of such a thing? The possessed Dem demon with dementia is always within reach of the Football. Under military supervision, it follows him everywhere.

It is one thing to be comfortably secluded with top advisors in the White House Situation Room, or the National Military Command Center, or equivalent, but entirely another to grapple with the Football  while flummoxed on the road. And that seems to be Biden’s constant mental state. Speedy decisions, at least rational ones, are well beyond his capacity.

There are presidential military aides (representing the six branches of the armed forces) who are on duty, scheduled by a top-secret rota, who trail the president with Football in hand As one previous football-carrying military aide put it: “I opened it up constantly just to refresh myself, to always be aware of what was in it, all the potential decisions the president could possibly make.”

If a (then) young-ish (certainly compared to feeble Biden), and alert military aide must obsessively do that, what chance does demented Biden stand of understanding the contents on a moment’s notice? Contents including a “black book” with a cryptic set of documents presenting launch options, including targets, and delivery systems. Cryptic, that is. Biden can’t comprehend anything straightforward, let alone cryptic. He even stumbles through note cards in meetings.

But even if the ominous “black book” in the doomsday satchel offers an overly-simplified menu of strike choices, the president must still read from a plastic card, known as the “biscuit,” containing special identification codes to reveal his identity. Yikes. Biden can barely read from a prompter with giant fonts, let alone understand what the heck he is blubbering on about (e.g. “end quote”).

So while he may not have launch codes, per se, or a red button to push, the biscuit is crucial as it verifies the authority of the person giving launch orders. Once the order is given, it filters down through layers of command and control, but the desperate reality is that once the Football is opened, circumstances would inevitably spiral out of control.

It is absolutely, positively, not something to joke about.

It is positively, absolutely, not something to brag about.

But Biden, unfathomably even for an incorrigible idiot, did both just last year during a trip to Colorado. 25th Amendment, anyone?

Back to the presidential military aides who lug the terrifying thing around. They undergo thorough psychological evaluations to assess their suitability for such a potentially mind-blowing task. Well then, how about an extensive evaluation to determine whether Biden is up to the task? I can almost -- almost -- understand his reluctance because a psych eval might reveal his deep-rooted evil. It might also unveil what a disgusting pervert he is. He’s probably afraid of being outed as an immoral monster. He won’t even partake of an easy and transparent cognitive test, even though Trump enthusiastically revealed he aced it -- and would take it again.

So a nuclear football-carrying military aide must be of the most upstanding moral character. He or she must undergo the most intensive personal and intellectual scrutiny, maintain absolute mental equanimity, and achieve the highest security clearance. He must have “the right stuff.” But the imbecile he shadows with satchel in hand is an unstable dunce who jokes about being able to blow up the world. It brings to mind the old adage, modified here, that the chain of command is only as strong as its weakest link.

It’s absurdly hypocritical that Dems floated the prospect of employing the 25th Amendment against Trump, when it is clearly Biden who has an “inability to discharge the Powers and Duties” of the office (while Kamala, who may have her own football, is unworthy and unserious, at least she can read… I believe). Nowadays, that power is apocalyptic, and can be unleashed by the contents of the nuclear football. What is happening here on God’s green earth? We have a decrepit, wandering octogenarian with sole authority to launch nukes from anywhere.

Oppenheimer cited from the Hindu sacred text Bhagavad Gita that, “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.” Biden, I’m disconcerted to write, seems barely alive at times. Let us pray that the weakest link in the chain doesn’t become the destroyer of worlds. Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4) with the Grim Reaper-in-Chief, let us pray that political providence ensures Biden’s “biscuit” is confiscated by legal voters. On judgment day, he must be sent packing to the madhouse, not back to White House with his cryptic biscuit. Let us pray that the Universe’s anthropic principle (that conditions are finely tuned for life) prevails here on our tiny planet.

Yes, our republic is at stake, but with the world on fire given Biden’s upside-down implementation of “peace through strength,” civilization itself teeters on annihilation. Our resplendent planet, the majestic Pale Blue Dot sparkling in the dark void of space, may become like hellish Venus, a destroyed world, should Biden (or Kamala) fumble the football.

Image: National Nuclear Security Administration