I asked you, as a deeply appreciated member of the Armageddon Prose audience, a while back what drug(s) you think Mamala’s handlers (allegedly) put her on.
That was mostly a rhetorical exercise; I already knew the answer. (To the great credit of the discerning audience, a majority also solved the riddle.)
It’s (allegedly) Xanax (or Klonopin, or Valium, or Ativan; they’re all benzodiazepines and basically interchangeable).
Lots of (alleged) Xanax.
Consider this 10 mg of Xanax-tier litany of nonsense — and note not just the rhetoric stream-of-consciousness gibberish but the delivery as depicted in the video; she’s halfway to comatose here:
“We love our country. I love our country. I know we all do. That’s why everybody’s here right now. We love our country. We take pride in the privilege of being American. And this is a moment where we can and must come together as Americans understanding we have so much more in common than what separates us. Let’s come together with the character that we are so proud about who we are, which is we are an optimistic people. We are an optimistic people. Americans, by character, are people who have dreams and ambitions and aspirations. We believe in what is possible. We believe in what can be. And we believe in fighting for that. That’s how we came into being because the people before us understood that one of the greatest expressions for the love of our country, one of the greatest expressions of patriotism, is to fight for the ideals of who we are, which includes freedom to make decisions about your own body, freedom to be safe from gun violence, freedom to have access to the ballot box, freedom to be who you are… freedom to just be. And that’s who we are. We believe in all that.”