The Biden-Harris After-Party Nobody Asked For

Like Guests Who Hang Around Long After the Party’s Over

Picture this: It’s 11:30 p.m. The last guest at your dinner party just left. You’ve done the dishes, slipped into your pajamas, and are thinking about that glorious moment when you can collapse on the couch with a bowl of cereal and a rerun of Seinfeld. But then, like a horror movie jump scare, you hear voices in the kitchen.

Who could it be?

It’s Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

They’re still there. Joe is holding an empty wine glass he hasn’t touched in three hours, talking about how he “really carried the party tonight.” Kamala is leaning against the fridge, cackling at her own joke no one asked for. You glance at the clock and realize, oh no—they’re not leaving. Not now. Not soon. Not ever.

Welcome to America in 2025: the political after-party where the lights are on, the music stopped two hours ago, and the Biden-Harris administration is still trying to relive a glory era they never actually had.

This past week was a perfect snapshot of the absurdity. Joe Biden shuffled up to the podium at the National Bar Association gala in Chicago. He gave what I can only assume was supposed to be a speech, but it felt more like that rambling guy at the end of the night who’s forgotten why he came over in the first place. The crowd politely clapped, probably checking their watches and wondering if they could Uber home without insulting Grandpa.

Meanwhile, Kamala Harris popped up on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. If you haven’t seen it, imagine a high school alum returning to prom uninvited, trying to convince the current seniors that she was the coolest back in the day. “I totally remember my first year as vice president, we really made history!” she says, as Colbert leans in like a sympathetic guidance counselor, while America collectively reaches for the remote.

The Biden-Harris duo reminds me of those former jocks and drama club queens who swing by their old high school five years after graduation. They stroll the halls expecting to hear, “Wow, remember them?” Instead, the kids barely look up from their phones. Except in this case, instead of a hallway, it’s the Oval Office. And instead of nostalgia, we’re getting inflation, border chaos, and a president who thinks talking to ice cream cones is a campaign strategy.

Here’s the problem with Biden and Harris: they’re trying to do an exit tour like they’re The Rolling Stones. Newsflash—they’re not Mick Jagger. There’s no greatest hits album here. There’s no “Satisfaction” or “Start Me Up.” Their whole playlist is more like elevator music no one asked to hear.

Even Jimmy Carter—yes, Jimmy “Malaise” Carter—had the self-awareness to fade quietly into the background after leaving office. Sure, he built a few houses with Habitat for Humanity and popped up for a cameo at the occasional event, but he didn’t insist on reminding the country that inflation and gas lines were his thing. He let Ronald Reagan—the Gipper himself—step up, take down the Soviets, and fix the economy like an actual president.

Biden and Harris? They’re still wandering the party like that one uncle who refuses to take the hint. “Hey, you guys got any more chips? Did I tell you about the time I saved the world from COVID?” Yes, Joe, we heard you. Also, no one remembers it the way you do.

The truth is, the Biden-Harris regime never had a glory day to relive. Their first term was a collection of bloopers: botched withdrawals, border disasters, record inflation, “Dark Brandon” speeches in front of ominous red lighting, and a vice president whose word salads make even Google Translate crash. They’re like the kids who lost every high school football game but still show up at the reunion wearing their letterman jackets.

And the American people are the exhausted hosts trying to politely show them the door. “Well, this was fun,” we say through clenched teeth, grabbing their coats. “Traffic’s going to be bad if you leave too late!” But they just keep hovering in the doorway, reminiscing about that one time in 2021 when CNN gave them a good headline.

The irony is that both Biden and Harris are obsessed with legacy. They want to be remembered as transformative leaders. But history doesn’t remember the guests who wouldn’t leave the party. It remembers the ones who actually did something—and then had the dignity to step aside.

Every other modern president—love them or hate them—understood this. Reagan left the stage with grace. George H.W. Bush went skydiving and handed out candy at his wife’s literacy events. Bill Clinton started a foundation and played the saxophone at events where people actually wanted him. Even Obama, who could never resist a camera, at least had the decency to pretend he wasn’t auditioning for another season of The West Wing.

Biden and Harris? They’re still out here doing late-night comedy spots and awkward gala speeches, desperately trying to convince America that they’re the life of a party that ended three years ago. Spoiler alert: they’re not.

So here’s my free advice for the Biden-Harris after-party crew: grab your coats, call an Uber, and leave before the hosts start turning off the lights. History will be kinder if you bow out now instead of forcing us to shove you out the door with the leftover shrimp cocktail.

Because let’s be honest—no one wants to be the alumni haunting their old high school, reliving a homecoming game they didn’t even win. And no one wants to be the last guest at the party when the hosts are already brushing their teeth.

America is ready to go to bed. It’s time for you two to go home.

---

 Ian Schwartz is a contributor to Direct Line News.   Contact Ian at Ian.Schwartz@mcgopclub.com

About The Author