1,228 words

Image by Phil Eiger Newman

With Election Day breathing down our necks like a cold November fog, I feel compelled to declare before God, man, and anyone who cares to listen that Kamala Harris is too mentally unstable and untrustworthy to guide our ship of state toward calmer waters.

I intend to make my case crisply, cleanly, and without the sort of hyperbolic invective that has polluted public discourse for far too many years.

Let us begin.

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I don’t trust the entire process that brought her this close to the Oval Office—a process that if, perish the thought, should culminate in her victory, will transform it into the Ovarian Office.

Ever since the summer, when Joe Biden dropped out after his dementia became undeniable, I’ve had the feeling that Harris has been foisted upon us. I can’t shake the suspicion that there’s been something intensely fabricated not only about her candidacy, but that people are actually excited about her and warmly embrace the idea that this downlow, dirty, shapeshifting, sneaky snake of a woman is joyful and bratty and ebullient and effervescent.

To establish beyond a reasonable doubt that she’s mentally ill, I will present two video items for the jury’s consideration. The first is a compilation of her infamous cackle, which has often been misrepresented as a “laugh.” But there is sadism rather than joy in that cackle. It contains hysteria, but not as in “hysterically funny”—more like “needs a hysterectomy.” It is not the sound of schoolchildren giggling at a kitten who got tangled up in a ball of yarn, but rather the shriek of the Wicked Witch of the West. Or the Joker. Never trust a cackling woman. They’ll rip out your throat and eat it. Would you trust a woman who cackles like that with the nuclear launch codes? Of course you wouldn’t.

In the next damning video clip, Ms. Harris works on iterations of the insipid phrase “What can be, unburdened by what has been” FIFTY-THREE FLIPPIN’  TIMES over the course of four minutes. She mostly keeps her wording and hand gestures the same, with added variation in her tone. Pay attention to her feigned sincerity, which is an oxymoron. If you have to feign it, then it’s not sincere. And what precisely is meant by this New Age gobbledygook? If it means “Forget about the past and look to the future,” then fine! Let us build a world where no one ever mentions slavery or the Holocaust again.

Depending on the crowd and which one of her multiple personalities is speaking, Harris will either enunciate with her normal inflection, which sounds white…or a black affect that manages to sound more forced than Vanilla Ice or Hillary Clinton trying to sound black. Just as sincerity isn’t sincere if it’s feigned, black people shouldn’t have to try to sound black.

On at least one occasion, she has lapsed into an inexplicable Jamaican accent. Although it’s possible she has used a Pajeet-style call-center dothead accent at some point, I regret to announce that I have never heard her doing so. Her mother’s maiden name was “Gopalan,” and while imitating Mama Gopalan once in her infamous “You think you just fell out of a coconut tree?” remark, Kamala sounded more Jamaican than dot-not-feather. But that was an imitation, whereas the other accents emerged from the depths of her dark and very likely demon-possessed soul.

Much has been made of the idea that Ms. Harris is also a racial chameleon. Donald Trump cracked a joke a little while ago that Harris used to present as Indian but suddenly reinvented herself as black.

Mr. Trump’s jab came when a black female interrogator alleged it was racist that conservatives were referring to Harris as a “diversity hire,” but the truth of the matter is that in 2019, when Joe Biden was preparing to run for president, he said, “Whomever I pick, preferably it will be someone who was of color and/or a different gender.” How is Ms. Harris not a “diversity hire”?

As far as I can discern, Harris has never played down her blackness nor her dotheadedness.

Her full name is Kamala Devi Harris, which translates from Sanskrit as “Lotus Goddess Harris.” When younger, she’d pose with family members dressed in a sari and with a tiny red dot on her head—not as large as her mom’s red dot, but still visible.

But when Harris attended the historically black college Howard University over 40 years ago, she was a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha, one of the “Divine Nine” of “historically black sororities.” And when she went to law school at Hastings College in San Francisco, she served as president of its chapter of the Black Law Students Association.

A side note on her time at Hastings: she gained admittance through the school’s Legal Education Opportunity Program, which was a set-aside for students who “have experienced major life hurdles, such as educational disadvantage, economic hardship, or disability.” But both of her parents were tenured college professors who made far more than the median household income at the time. Unless her “educational disadvantage” was that she graduated from Howard U. without honors, or her “disability” was that she was black, she faked her way into law school. And it’s said that she failed her Bar Exam on the first try.

But the most telling way in which Harris has been dishonest about her mongrelized racial ancestry is that she downplays, or never even mentions, the white, slave-owning part. According to a 2019 essay by her father, the Jamaican mulatto Donald J. Harris:

My roots go back, within my lifetime, to my paternal grandmother Miss Chrishy (née Christiana Brown, descendant of Hamilton Brown who is on record as plantation and slave owner and founder of Brown’s Town)….

The Harris name comes from my paternal grandfather Joseph Alexander Harris, land-owner and agricultural ‘produce’ exporter (mostly pimento or all-spice), who died in 1939 one year after I was born…

Clicking on the links under those two men’s names will reveal phenotypes that may not be 100% Nordic but are certainly whiter than black. A British historian claims that Hamilton Brown traveled all the way from Jamaica to England to protest black slavery’s abolition. Once that failed, he was said to have become keen on “making slaves of migrants” in Ireland.

So if Kamala Harris was truly honest about her racial ancestry, her gnarled roots include a white slaveowner who not only enslaved blacks, he enslaved the Irish. Thus, her stank-ass soul bears