Kamala Harris Gets Nervous Around Kamala Harris

In the authenticity election, Kamala Harris loses in a landslide.

The latest collective weirded-out “who are you?” comes in the wake of the revelation of plagiarism in Smart on Crime: A Career Prosecutor’s Plan to Make Us Safer, a book ostensibly written by Kamala Harris and Joan O’C. Hamilton in 2009. As German plagiarism expert Stefan Weber and Manhattan Institute senior fellow Christopher Rufo demonstrate, the presidential candidate and her coauthor passed off long, verbatim passages from NBC News, a John Jay College of Criminal Justice press release, the Urban Institute, and, yes, even Wikipedia as their own.

Before the disclosure of Harris repackaging the words of others as ones that she wrote, she appropriated any number of accents. Last week, she spoke in a Jamaican accent while discussing hurricane relief with Stephen Colbert. “Hello to all of my Divine Nine brothas and sistas,” Harris said at a Congressional Black Caucus dinner last month, “and my soror. And to all my HBCU brothas and sistas.” In Detroit, the Democratic Party presidential nominee relied upon dialect that calls no distinct spot on the map home. “Ya betta thank a union memba for sick leave,” she instructed the audience. “Ya betta thank a union memba for paid leave. Ya betta thank a union member for vacation time.”

This woman makes people uncomfortable because she makes herself uncomfortable. Kamala Harris seems nervous around Kamala Harris. Whether drinking a can of Miller High Life on late-night television, laughing without anything prompting it, or dating a short, bald, and married (the trifecta of single female icks) man 30 years her senior in the 1990s, Harris comes across as inauthentic. Her campaign has been one prolonged Michael-Dukakis-riding-in-a-tank moment.

This contrived quality extends to her campaign commercials, the latest of which features actors portraying real men who explain they are man enough to vote for a woman. The men appear in a gym, on a farm, and in a garage, wearing cowboy hats, what none dare call a wife-beater T-shirt, and beards, and they tell the camera that their manliness extends to braiding a daughter’s hair, crying at the movie Love Actually, and asking for directions when lost. “I’m man enough to be emotional in front of my wife,” one explains. The manly men, Kamala-commercial troupe recalled Monty Python singing “The Lumberjack Song” minus the knowledge of their comedic effect.

The spot captured the struggling-with-my-masculinity constituency. Men? The most recent NBC News survey shows men favoring Donald Trump by 16 points. The cringey ad, and Tim Walz’s performative hunting trip, not only do not attract men to vote for Harris but likely repel them.

Especially in contrast to Donald Trump, whose extemporaneous delivery does to teleprompters what John F. Kennedy sans headwear at his inauguration did hatters, Harris looks produced, scripted, forged. This seemed pronounced at the debate that pundits nearly unanimously proclaimed she won but voters, in various focus groups, said otherwise. Voters prefer genuine, even if flawed, to a façade shielding some void.

We cannot say we weren’t warned.

Recall the creepy 2021 video promoting NASA in which Harris appeared alongside a group of child actors who had auditioned and delivered scripted lines. The Biden administration presented the theater as though a natural conversation between the vice president and a group of random kids.

“I want you to really remember this: Never let anybody tell you who you are,” she advised the child actors exhibiting faux-exuberance. “You tell them who you are. Never let anybody suggest to you that you are what they think you should be. You tell them who you are, and who you know you are, and what you intend to be. Got that?”

Kamala Harris, whose speech hails from everywhere and nowhere and writing similarly borrows here and there, surely never allowed anybody to tell her who she is. The list of people unable to determine her nowhere-woman personality include Kamala Harris.

READ MORE from Daniel J. Flynn:

Kamala Seeks Shelter From Hurricane Donald

Yes, Kamala, It’s Not the 1950s — and That’s Not Uniformly Wonderful

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