Mort Report is a labor of love by old-style correspondents with lifetimes on the road and young ones with fresh eyes. Our philosophy is simple: we report at first hand with analysis based on non-alternative fact, not opinion. If we get something wrong, we fix it.
FLAYOSC, France — It was Jake Tapper himself who torpedoed Joe Biden's presidency. That CNN "debate" in June, a stopwatch-timed soundbite duel, allowed Donald Trump to smirk on a shared screen while preparing facile lies to counter substantive answers.
Biden, ragged from a long trip and hard diplomacy, was over-prepared for a serious exchange on complex issues. After he blanked, it did not matter if it was a momentary lapse or something worse. More than a lame duck, he was a dead one.
Now Tapper shamelessly flogs an anonymously sourced cowritten book that sucks up airtime and print space while a dictator-in-waiting, truly off the rails, bullies Congress into crippling democracy while pushing an imperiled world farther toward the edge.
CNN calls itself "the most trusted name in news." If Biden was already unfit for the job in 2022, it might have said so. In fact, he was all over the world map, including on an 11-hour train ride to Kyiv under Russian guns, to build alliances. Trump played golf.
Andy Borowitz was closer to truth with satire: "Biden Covered Up Health Woes with Four Years of Booming Economy."
"Original Sin," evoking that Adam and Eve apple bite, is a less overblown title if you make a metaphorical leap: a crabapple tree in human form is bearing poisonous fruit, turning an erstwhile Garden of Eden into uninhabitable wasteland.
Headlines focus on one big reveal. Biden might need a wheelchair.
Franklin Roosevelt spent four terms on wheels while bringing America out of a Great Depression caused by a Republican president's overuse of tariffs, then taking the lead with allies to keep Hitler and Hirohito from conquering the world.
The book says Biden needs eight hours of sleep, as most healthy people do. Instead, we have a manic would-be monarch who taps out brain farts on his phone at 3 a.m. which devastate struggling American families and imperil millions of lives across the world.
TOURTOUR, France — I felt the mother of all rants coming on as a real-estate huckster in a disrespectful blue suit snored through a papal funeral — just after telling Volodymyr Zelensky he must cede to Satan the territory Ukrainians have bled for years to defend.
But faithful readers know my views on Donald Trump. Before getting into fresh facts, I imagined his own reckoning with Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates, facing the Ten Commandments without lawyers and truth-twisters on the public payroll.
Peter: "Let's skip adultery. I haven't got all week. How about bearing false witness?" Trump: "No, never." Peter: "Hmm, the Washington Post racked up 30,573 lies in your first term. Our lifetime tally wore out a dozen angels before they gave up in disgust."
It went downhill fast with coveting, stealing and all those graven images of himself that Trump markets at outrageous prices to his fleeced flock — even a schlocky King Donald's Bible.
There were awkward moments about Christ's teachings, like moneychangers in the temple and camels more likely to pass through the eye of a needle than uncharitable billionaires getting into Heaven.
Then Peter got to the big one, Thou shalt not kill. Trump sputtered: "But I never shot anyone on Fifth Avenue. That was just a boast to underscore my godlike status among all those suckers who worship me. Wait, let me rephrase that."
And here it gets serious — and very real.
