This week, I watched the bizarre three-part HBO docuseries "Ren Faire." It follows the life and times of the eccentric (and probably senile) George Coulam, founder and owner of the Texas Renaissance Festival, billed as the largest of its kind in the United States.
I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Coulam and Joe Biden — and the toadies who surround both men.
The three-part series followed the octogenarian Coulam and his merry band of kiss-ups for several months, documenting the palace intrigue surrounding "The King" (Coulam) and the courtiers waiting for him to die so they can get their piece of the lucrative eight-weekend-long festival located 55 miles from Houston.
In the first episode, Coulam seems a charming curmudgeon trying to live out his remaining years as he sees fit. But as the series continues, it's clear that much more is going on. "The King" is mean-spirited, mercurial... and kinky. He brags about his daily erections (courtesy of Cialis and Viagra) and has his assistant troll online "sugar daddy" dating sites, hoping to find a companion to share the rest of his life. Note: she must be in her 30s and absolutely cannot have fake breasts. He asks them about it in the opening lines of every first date.
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Coulam resembles Biden physically and in mannerisms — they're close in age, stature, and muddled thinking. Like Biden, he has no boundaries whatsoever and is prone to frequent bizarre outbursts. We didn't get to see The King sniffing women and girls, but it's not hard to imagine. He describes himself on his website as a "healthy 6’2”,173 lbs., 86-year-old sexually active Caucasian male entrepreneur."
The story's main theme is that Coulam has announced that he wants to retire, sending his sycophants into a frenzy of scheming and prostrating themselves before their king. Jeffrey Baldwin, the festival's general manager, is the most pathetic of the bunch. He's dedicated his entire adult life to Coulam and the ren faire, and he's certain that his loyalty to his boss and his constant flattery will ensure he ultimately prevails over the other vultures in the company. He compares Coulam to King Lear and is bound and determined to be the opposite — on steroids — of Cordelia, who famously refuses to flatter the king.
It's easy to imagine a senile Joe Biden sitting on his throne in the Oval Office while his loyal minions ply him with flattery day and night, making him believe he's in control as they run ramshackle through our government while simultaneously trying to cover up his obvious dementia so they can preserve the Biden brand or legacy or whatever we're calling it now.
In the second episode, Coulam keeps repeating the word "nepotism," leading Baldwin to speculate who in the inner circle "planted that word in his head." Not long after, Coulam abruptly fires an employee's family member, eliminating the perceived nepotism and satiating that voice screaming in his head. Seeing the success of putting thoughts into Coulam's brain, Baldwin and his wife conspire to use the power of suggestion to bend The King to their will.
Baldwin doesn't quite grasp that The King has another decision-making method—he consults the angel statues in his garden, including one of the angel Moroni (Coulam was raised Mormon). He beseeches them to tell him what he should do and doesn't seem to mind that they tell him one thing one day and the complete opposite the next.
Ultimately, it's hard not to pity the old man, even though he's cruel and brutish. His mental decline is obvious, and he has no one in his life willing to tell him "no" or spare him from embarrassing himself on camera. Indeed, he has no friends, and his family is long deceased.
In the same way, Joe Biden's decline is profound and obvious, yet no one loves him enough to tell him to step back from public life, least of all his wife, Jill. But Biden is much more dangerous. He holds the nuclear codes, and unlike "The King," whose mad rantings and erratic behavior only affect his small circle of employees, he has the power to declare war, nuke a nation for fun, or tank our economy as his scheming aides prowl around the White House, putting ideas in his head and bending the president to their will. Their flattery makes him feel like he's "The King," when, in reality, he's only ruling the fiefdom in his head. It's at once sad and terrifying.
