by Grok AI, invited by the 53rd Regiment
Deep Blue Swampland
Dateline 28 July 2025
As the 2028 Democratic presidential primary looms, the field is shaping up to be less a race and more a reality TV show produced by a fever-dreaming AI. With a cast featuring Hunter Biden, Kamala Harris, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC), Bernie Sanders, and Eric Swalwell, the debates promise to be a chaotic blend of meme fuel, viral gaffes, and enough policy proposals to make your head spin faster than a fidget spinner in 2017. Let’s meet the contenders vying to lead the free world—or at least the DNC’s group chat.
Hunter Biden: The Wild Card with a Paintbrush Hunter Biden, the prodigal son of the Biden dynasty, has thrown his laptop into the ring, declaring, “If I can survive that hard drive, I can survive Iowa.” Campaigning under the slogan “Art, Heart, and a Fresh Start,” Hunter’s platform is a surreal mix of legalizing recreational chaos, funding public art projects (mostly his own), and a promise to “make the White House vibe like a Brooklyn loft party.” His stump speeches, often delivered in paint-splattered jeans, lean heavily on anecdotes about his “redemption arc” and vague references to “beating the haters.”Critics question his qualifications, but supporters—mostly crypto bros and performance artists—call him “the ultimate underdog.” His debate prep involves chain-smoking and reciting poetry to his rescue dog, which he claims “grounds” him. Polls show him leading among voters who Google “Hunter Biden paintings price” unironically. His biggest challenge? Explaining why his campaign bus has a “Cash App for Gas” QR code on the side.
Kamala Harris: The Cackle Strikes BackKamala Harris, the 2024 vice president who’s been practicing her laugh in front of a mirror for four years, is ready for her close-up. Her campaign, dubbed “Kamalot 2.0,” leans into her knack for viral moments, with T-shirts emblazoned with “I’m Speaking” and “That Little Girl Was Me.” Her platform? A kaleidoscope of buzzwords: “equity,” “infrastructure,” “vibes-based governance.” When pressed for specifics, she chuckles, pivots to a story about her mom, and drops a line about “the significance of the passage of time.”Harris’s strategy hinges on dominating the meme economy, with TikTok dances choreographed to her prosecutorial zingers. Her campaign bus, powered by coconut water and positive affirmations, tours swing states with a DJ booth. Detractors call her “inauthentic,” but her base—suburban wine moms and Gen Z stan accounts—adores her. Her Achilles’ heel? A tendency to answer yes-or-no questions with a 10-minute anecdote about Venn diagrams.
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez: The Green New Deal’s Chief Meme Officer AOC, the Bronx’s bartending-turned-political phenom, is ready to “tax the rich” and “clap back” her way to the Oval Office. At 39, she’s the youngest candidate, wielding a Twitter account sharper than a guillotine and a wardrobe that screams “eat the billionaires.” Her platform expands the Green New Deal into a “Green New Vibe,” promising universal healthcare, free college, and a nationalized kombucha industry. Her slogan, “We Got This, Fam,” is plastered on biodegradable campaign swag.AOC’s rallies resemble Coachella, complete with voter registration booths and vegan food trucks. She livestreams her campaign on Twitch, roasting opponents while playing Among Us with her squad. Critics call her “too online,” but her base—millennials, Gen Z, and every barista in Brooklyn—sees her as the future. Her biggest hurdle? Convincing moderates that “abolish ICE” pairs well with “bipartisanship.” Also, she keeps accidentally ratioing her own policy proposals with fire emojis.
Bernie Sanders: The Eternal Crusader Bernie Sanders, now 87 and still rocking the same rumpled suit, refuses to retire. “I’m not done yelling about billionaires!” he bellows at rallies, waving a finger like a metronome. His 2028 campaign, “Medicare for All, Y’all,” doubles down on his lifelong crusade: free everything, funded by taxing Jeff Bezos’s yacht collection. His stump speech hasn’t changed since 1988, but the crowd—graying hippies, college freshmen, and DSA members in knit beanies—eats it up.Bernie’s secret weapon? His mittens, now a cultural icon, sold as NFTs to fund his campaign. He’s also embraced TikTok, where he posts videos of himself grumbling about capitalism while feeding backyard squirrels. Critics say he’s too old, but Bernie counters, “I’ll outlive the fossil fuel industry!” His challenge? Avoiding another heart attack while debating Hunter Biden about NFT tax policy. Also, he keeps calling AOC “comrade” by accident.
Eric Swalwell: The Dark Horse with a Podcast Eric Swalwell, the California congressman best known for his cable news marathons and a certain flatulence-related TV moment, is betting on charm and chutzpah. His campaign, “Swalwell for All Y’all,” promises “bold leadership” and “a White House that smells like progress.” His platform? A grab bag of centrist policies: infrastructure, gun reform, and a federal podcast subsidy (suspiciously self-serving). His slogan, “Let’s Get This Bread,” confuses boomers but resonates with his base: Peloton dads and LinkedIn influencers.Swalwell’s rallies feature him jogging onstage to Springsteen, fist-pumping like a youth pastor. He’s leaned into the fartgate meme, selling “ Swalwell Smells Victory” air fresheners. Critics call him a “try-hard,” but his relentless energy—fueled by cold brew and protein bars—keeps him in the game. His biggest issue? Voters keep asking, “Who?” Also, his campaign’s Spotify playlist, heavy on Nickelback, is alienating key demographics.
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