For the Past Six Years We've Been Asking: Where Is Joe Biden? And It Turns Out the Answer Was Literally “At Home With His Thumb Up His Butt"
By The American Gadfly
Filed under: Ghost Presidents, Geriatric Gaslighting, and Terminal Inertia
For six years — six long, increasingly surreal, cortisol-soaked years — we’ve been asking the same question:
Where the hell is Joe Biden?
Where is he during the crises? During the climate catastrophes? The inflation spirals? The mass shootings? The trans bans? The Roe v. Wade rollback? The book burnings? The Supreme Court slouching toward theocracy? The TikTok bans? The fake electors? The coup trials? THE FUCKING SUPERBOWL?!
Where is he?
And now, finally, we have the answer:
At home.
With his thumb up his butt.
That’s it. That’s the punchline. That’s the big reveal. The President of the United States — the man with the nuclear codes and the mid-sentence freeze-ups — was apparently not MIA. He was exactly where he’s always been: home, horizontal, and hoping no one noticed.
The Ghost Presidency
This wasn’t a presidency. This was a séance. We were governed by the political equivalent of background noise. Every crisis was met with a shrug and a statement: “The President has been briefed.” Great! Has he been animated?
Joe Biden became the first hologram Commander-in-Chief. Not even Obama was this invisible, and that guy practically lived in drone footage. But Biden? He disappeared like he owed us money.
When the banks started collapsing, he was “resting.”
When climate records broke, he was “monitoring the situation.”
When the far right stormed school boards, he was “concerned.”
When Trump started frothing at rallies again? Crickets and Metamucil.
And now we know why: stage four cancer.
The Disappearing Act: Not Strategic, Just Sick
Turns out, all the political vanishing — the sparse press appearances, the whispered speeches, the endless Delaware weekends — weren’t part of a “strategic media plan.” They were symptoms. Symptoms of something that was eating away at him from the inside, just like it was eating away at public trust from the outside.
They told us he was “resting.”
They told us he was “letting his team shine.”
They told us he was “playing 4D chess.”
Turns out he was playing hide-and-seek with his own diagnosis.
The Thumb-Up-the-Gut Doctrine
It’s fitting, really. That image. Biden at home, hunched over in a La-Z-Boy, watching Matlock reruns with his thumb up his gut — not even in control of his own bowels, let alone the government.
This is how the American empire winds down. Not with a bang, but with a president on pause. A man surrounded by a firewall of handlers, pills, platitudes, and pillows.
This wasn’t leadership.
This was a biological soft coup.
The Democrats didn’t just run an incumbent — they ran a specter. A man whose biggest executive function was holding a pen during a photo op. And somehow, we were expected to clap.
Meanwhile, the House Was on Fire
While Joe Biden was unplugged in Delaware, here’s what was happening:
Red states were passing post-Roe bans so extreme they make The Handmaid’s Tale look like a rom-com.
Billionaires bought up city blocks and rebranded them as tax shelters.
Corporations put out more statements than the White House.
The judiciary became a Federalist cosplay convention.
And Trump was back on his rodeo circuit, whipping up crowds like it’s 2016 all over again — this time with a vengeance and a full legal hit list.
And what did we get from Joe?
Silence.
Or worse — statements.
Or worse still — “The President has no public events today.”
No events? Buddy, the country is the event.
The Kamala Conundrum
Kamala Harris couldn’t speak out. Couldn’t distance herself. Couldn’t blink sideways without the press asking if she was plotting a palace coup. Because they all knew the truth — they just weren’t allowed to say it.
She wasn’t quiet because she lacked ambition. She was quiet because the guy in front of her was actively decomposing, and the Democratic Party was holding the whole thing together with duct tape, denial, and duty to decorum.
They didn’t let her run with fire.
They made her babysit a bonfire.
The Book Bombshell: "Guess Who Had Cancer?"
And now? Now we learn that he had stage four cancer this entire time — and they reveal it in his upcoming memoir. Like it’s a twist ending. Like the credits are rolling and someone yells, “Wait! Rewind! He was dying the whole time!”
You cannot make this up.
You shouldn’t have to.
And you don’t get to call that “privacy.”
That’s not privacy — it’s strategic deception.
They hid a terminal illness from the electorate, ran a sham campaign on his behalf, lost to Trump, and then acted surprised. It’s not just unethical. It’s historical malpractice.
The Malignancy of Political Arrogance
This wasn’t just Biden’s fault. This was the fault of everyone who propped him up:
The media, who repeated “Bidenomics” like it was a magic word.
The donors, who wanted a safe bet more than a real candidate.
The consultants, who thought optics were more important than oxygen.
The DNC, who couldn't imagine life after Joe without needing a nap.
They all gambled on a man who literally had a ticking tumor. And they bet wrong.
The result? Trump 2.0.
Now with more vengeance. Fewer norms. And enough Supreme Court justices to make Jesus look like a liberal.
We Deserved to Know
This was our country.
This was our fight.
We deserved a shot.
And instead, we were lied to by omission.
We were told to “trust the process.”
We were told “don’t panic.”
Well, guess what?
The guy had stage four cancer and still didn’t tell us.
That’s not panic-worthy?
That’s not disqualifying?
That’s not something you mention before Election Day?
Nope. They waited. They sat on it.
They let him run. Lose. Leave.
Then they rolled it out in the book, like it was a deleted scene from The West Wing: After Dark.
The Thumb as a Metaphor
In the end, that thumb-in-the-gut moment is perfect. It sums up the entire Biden presidency:
Hesitant.
Indecisive.
Out of touch.
Performing competence, not delivering it.
We weren’t asking for perfection. We were asking for presence.
And all we got was absence. Silence. And eventually — revelation.
Too little, too late.
Too dishonest, too often.
Too sick, too covered up.
The Final Diagnosis
Joe Biden wasn’t the villain. But he was the failing immune system of a party too scared to operate. Too polite to pivot. Too arrogant to listen.
And now we’re stuck with the result: a raging infection of autocracy, tearing through the country like wildfire — and no credible antibiotics in sight.
So when people ask, “Where was Joe Biden?”
You tell them:
“At home. With his thumb up his gut. While the country burned down around him.”
And if we don’t learn from this — if we don’t demand better next time?
We’ll all be feeling around in the dark with both thumbs up our butts.
*A note from The Gadfly: Chat GPT would not allow me to say that former President Biden had his thumb up his butt and so instead this article was written under the premise that he had his thumb up his gut, and was edited in post.
