On a battered sidewalk outside a train station, a man in a hoodie flips three cards on a cardboard box. Crowds gather.
He lifts one, wrong.
Another, wrong again.
The dealer smirks.
To begin with, the winning card was never on the table.
Welcome to Joe Biden’s America.
The presidency of Joseph R. Biden has become the political version of a three-card monte: a practiced deception, a game of distraction, a con on the national stage. And now, as cancer headlines flood the news and sympathy pours in, we’re being told to watch the card that elicits the most emotion.
Meanwhile, the actual story is being slipped into a coat pocket and carried away.
Let’s break it down.
Card One: Sympathy in Sickness
A few days ago, we learned that President Biden has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of prostate cancer that has metastasized to his bones.
The announcement, confirmed by physicians and cloaked in reassurances about "hormone-sensitive" treatment, had emotional resonance.
He posed with his wife and cat. He tweeted a Hemingway quote: "We are strongest in the broken places."
The media did what it always does: they ran with the narrative they were handed. Front pages became tribute pages. But the timing is suspect.
Why now? Why reveal this so close to the convention? Why pair it with a week of handpicked interviews where Biden looked more animated than he has in months?
Because sympathy shields scrutiny, you're heartless if you question his fitness now. If you bring up his mental lapses, you're disrespecting a sick man. The cancer diagnosis functions as a deflection device: don't ask about the past two years of stumbles, slurs, and senility. Just light a candle and hush.
Meanwhile, President Trump responded by wishing Biden a swift recovery but didn’t bite at the sympathy bait. In true Trumpian fashion, he shifted the spotlight to the announcement's timing and asked what the White House was trying to bury. He reminded voters that strength isn't just physical, it's mental and strategic. And America, he warned, can't afford to be governed by sentiment when sharks run the world.
Card Two: Cognitive Collapse
For years, Americans have watched Biden's mental sharpness slowly unravel. It wasn’t just the stumbles or the stuttering. It was the vacant stare, the wandering from the podium, the way he gripped notes like a drowning man clutches driftwood.
He forgot the names of world leaders, confused his sister for his wife, and relied on note cards to remind him who he was talking to and what country he was in.
His defenders said it was age. Then they said it was his speech impediment. Then they said it was fake. Now? Now they quietly admit that he’s unwell but lean on cancer as the reason.
That’s not just a pivot. It’s a ploy.
The truth is that his cognitive decline preceded the cancer diagnosis. He’s been deteriorating in plain sight, and the media has served as his stage crew, rearranging the scenery to distract from the reality. The actual card, which we should have watched all along, has been in play since Day One. We just weren’t allowed to call it what it was.
President Donald Trump has long sounded the alarm on Biden’s mental decline. At rallies and debates, he didn’t just point to the flubs; he made them unmistakable. He contrasted Biden’s handlers and cue cards with his unscripted confidence. Now that Biden’s allies are scrambling to rewrite history, Trump stands as the man who saw it and said it first.
Card Three: The Autopen Presidency
While Americans were lighting virtual candles for Joe, something astonishing happened. The White House issued a batch of presidential pardons signed by an autopen.
Think about that.
A presidential pardon is a sacred exercise of constitutional mercy and one of the most personal acts a president can perform. Instead of sitting down to sign the documents, read the names, weigh the consequences, and exercise judgment, Biden used a machine.
There wasn’t even a press conference. No Oval Office speech. Just... autopilot.
This is not a ceremonial thank-you letter. These are pardons that alter people’s lives, records, and futures. And they were authorized by a man who was too unwell or unavailable to pick up a pen?
If the president cannot fulfill the most symbolic duties of his office, what exactly is he doing?
The last time we heard about an autopen was during the Obama era, when it was controversially used to sign a last-minute debt ceiling bill. Even then, constitutional scholars debated its legality.
But this? This was silent, bureaucratic, and nearly unnoticed.
An invisible presidency, with mechanical signatures. Rule by proxy.
If he can’t sign, can he decide?
If he can’t appear, can he lead?
If he can’t explain, can he command?
This isn’t just a medical crisis. It is a constitutional one.
Never one to miss the forest for the trees, Trump seized on the autopen scandal as a breaking point. He asked the obvious: Who is really in charge? What else is being ghost-governed? He framed it as a lapse and an abdication, a presidency without a president and a nation without a captain.
The Media: The Card Dealer's Shill
No three-card monte is complete without a plant in the crowd: the one who shouts, "There it is! I saw it!" That's the corporate press.
They rush to tell us that Biden is as sharp as ever, that he’s just been through a lot, that cancer explains everything now. They distract, deflect, and deny. Their job isn’t to inform, it’s to cover.
Their complicity is the greatest betrayal.
Because they didn’t just ignore the signs; they punished those who pointed them out. Social media bans. "Disinformation" labels. Editorial hit pieces. They built a barricade of shame around legitimate questions about Biden's health. Now that it's politically helpful, they remove it.
They’re not telling the truth now out of courage. They’re doing it because the con is nearly over, and it’s time to prepare for the next dealer.
Final Thought: Stop Playing the Game
A street hustler only wins when you play along.
Right now, Americans are being asked to follow the card marked "cancer" with soft music and solemn nods. Meanwhile, the constitutional crisis is playing out in real time; a president who governs by machine and survives by media protection goes unexamined.
This is no longer a matter of partisan politics. It is a matter of civic integrity.
The three-card monte is not a game you win. It’s a game you walk away from.
The American people deserve more than sleight of hand. They deserve a president, not a prop.
And they’d better stop watching the wrong card before the dealer switches the whole table.
