https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/10/bernie-sanders-queens-rally-circus-comes-to-town/
The Sanders circus comes to Queens.
Who says Joe Biden supporters aren’t fired up and ready to fight? Twenty-five thousand eight hundred and seventy-two of them showed up in Queens Saturday to bring a smile to Uncle Joe’s lips. All of them were fighting to split the socialist vote that threatens Biden between the relatively spry lady who could actually win (Elizabeth Warren) and the wild-haired 78-year-old Larry David impersonator who just had a heart attack (Bernie Sanders).
The weekend timing was unfortunate given Bernie’s precarious health and even more precarious standing in the polls. (Nine percent in Iowa, behind Pete Buttigieg? Really? Was he even born when Bernie ran in 2016?) You would think the Bernie Sanders campaign would make sure to hold its biggest rallies on a weekday, given the amount of propping up he needs. Hunched over from the shoulders, he didn’t just grab the lectern on Saturday — he clutched it, relied on it, looking like Mr. Burns leaning over his walker. (It’s a good thing he’s a politician; in what other profession do they invariably put a large stand in front of you to help you keep your balance?) Sanders came on stage to the strains of AC/DC’s “Back in Black,” which was meant to make Sanders sound exciting and indomitable; in fact the song was written as a tribute to a dead guy (Bon Scott). Oopsie?
Sanders’s speech was characteristically Sandernista stuff: Droning, badgering, meandering, enervating, needlessly, endlessly long. Sanders is the kind of guy who could promise every American free Netflix for life and still make it sound like a shut-up-and-take-your-medicine speech. The man is pure Castro oil. As his brillo-pad-on-sandpaper voice flayed the eardrums, the Bernie signs drooped. Even his most ardent fans looked at each other like they were ankle-deep in a bear trap. Whether Sanders was being uselessly vague (“Our legislation. Will hold. The fossil-fuel industry. Accountable.”) or issuing absurdly unrealistic blue-sky promises (“Our program will eliminate homelessness in America!”), he sounded completely irrelevant to 2019. Five years older than the oldest Baby Boomer, already ten years past the average life expectancy of a man born in 1941, he is not the man to lead America through the 2020s. He’s the man at the deli who wants his tuna-on-rye special Retoasted, the right way this time.