I’ve certainly developed greater empathy for every old-witch-who-lives-in-the-woods/crazy-old-man-in-a-shack-outside-town I’ve ever encountered in fiction, now that I too spend my days in twitchy solitude, cackling to myself at seemingly random intervals. 2020 will make mad hermits of us all, surely.

Bob Woodward continues the promotional striptease for his forthcoming book, RAGE, like some Victorian harlot flashing a lil’ ankle right in the public square in front of God and everybody. His latest bit of audio titillation further confirms that the truth about COVID-19’s deadliness did indeed penetrate President Dotard’s cracked walnut brain, meaning, again, he lied while we died in droves. What’s surprising to me here is that there are still folks who expect him to demonstrate basic human decency, or even normal human emotions, when everything we know about the man tells us that no life outside his own matters to him even slightly. Yes, that is a rather undesirable leadership trait, I quite agree.

A really fun theme this week is Republican Calls For Violence Against Democrats. If Republican Calls For Violence Against Democrats were something delightfully collectible, like Beanie Babies or Pokémon, wow, everyone would be rejoicing in their bountiful good fortune right now. Regrettably, it’s more of a death-throes-of-a-proto-fascist-movement-facing-electoral-defeat-and-trying-to-decide-how-willing-it-is-to-commit-mass-murder-in-order-to-survive kind of thing, so it’s really much less adorable than the aforementioned scenarios.

Naturally, Hairplug Himmler himself is hardly shy about busting out the old stochastic terror bullhorn, casually endorsing the concept of extra-judicial killings as justified “retribution,” and between his instinctive vindictiveness and persistently awful swing state polling, I wonder how long we have until he abandons traditional GOTV efforts in favor of tweeting at his waiting mob that the time has finally come to burn down any house with a Biden sign on the lawn?

Roger Stone’s certainly all for it, calling for martial law, because I guess his custom-made, get-out-of-treason free card isn’t enough for him, he wants to see the whole fucking country burn for having the audacity to enforce its laws on his wrinkly white ass in the first place. Such is the indignant fury of the aging white nationalist; Roger would rather destroy the American experiment for all the generations yet to come than share the slightest bit of it for the handful of years remaining to him.

And Stoney’s pal, Michael Caputo, made history by becoming the first HHS assistant secretary of public affairs ever to incite violence against political opponents in a conspiracy-theory-filled social media breakdown that would make Sam Nunberg blush, news of which came hot on the heels of accusations that he’s altered CDC coronavirus reports for political purposes, endangering American lives just so Donald Trump can keep his weekend golf grift going, and this dude STILL has not been fired. I feel like we should’ve looked at the fine print on that “Best People” deal.   

Anyway, if you’re somehow not fully satiated, as far as articles about wingnut lunatics trying to get you and your loved ones killed are concerned…I mean, the supply chain remains intact, it would seem.

I confess I’d be more worried about this slobbering death cult, if they didn’t seem so much more focused on and efficient at destroying themselves. There are apparently not enough Herman Cain funerals in the world to convince these brainwashed creeps to stop gathering together in crowds to offer themselves up to the coronavirus like so many dumbfuck full-sized Snickers to America’s most lethal novel trick-or-treater.  (Fun fact: a group of Trump supporters is called an “outbreak.”)

Because yes, still, in defiance of local laws, medical advice, and common fucking sense, Shart Garfunkel gathers his shitty flock wherever and whenever he can, including at one very illegal stop in Nevada over the weekend. You can question the political wisdom of killing off your most fervent supporters right before an election, but if you look deep into his eyes while he’s delivering one of his mendacious little rants, you can see what it’s all about: “Look Dad, they’re willing to die for me! Not so unworthy of love now, am I? AM I?”

Wildfire season is always difficult, but things get infinitely more complicated under a resentment-driven president who views crises in blue states primarily as opportunities to torment people who didn’t vote for him. The demented fuck actually flew out to California to lecture local officials, and I suppose it shouldn’t surprise anyone that the mind that came up with EUREKA! WE’LL ALL JUST DRINK BLEACH! would also believe that trees can explode.

Turns out Louis DeJoy wasn’t taking any chances in his quest to buy his way into the Turd Reich; he dropped $600,000 in political contributions once he heard the Postmaster General gig opened up. In a way, I almost can’t fault Louis; if I had that kind of scratch, I’d be fulfilling my childhood dreams, too, it’s just mine would involve making really pretentious art films starring myself while Louis seems to want to participate in the overthrow of American democracy.

The periodic self-owning hijinks of the absolutely unteachable grifter duo of Jacob Wohl and Jack Burkman make me wonder if a higher power, some sort of godlike scriptwriter who appreciates the necessity of regular comic relief, hasn’t been carefully shaping this hellscape all along for its own amusement. Anyway, these assclowns staged a fake FBI raid on themselves, because while Cult45 seeks to institutionalize white supremacy, they’d never accept it unless they still got to cling to the whinging sense of victimhood which is so essential to their identity.

We’ve been talking a great deal about climate change this week, with Smilin’ Joe Biden  giving the latest in a serious of calmly effective little speeches, reminding the electorate that of their two choices, he is the one who lives in reality, rather than a dirtbag rich boy’s Fantasia where an offstage pile of Daddy’s Money makes every obstacle mysteriously vanish.

“It’ll start getting cooler. You just watch.”

That’s really and truly the entire Trump plan for the great existential crisis facing humanity. The problem will, with absolutely no exertion on his part, simply cease to be a problem. 200,000 graves into the coronavirus outbreak, and his faith in his ability to will catastrophe into nonexistence remains bafflingly unshaken.

“It’ll start getting cooler.” In about…two weeks, right?

Look, times are tight, and I had to furlough Bill at the Abject Horror Desk, though frankly, he looked like he could use the rest, which is really saying something considering he’s a literary device that exists nowhere outside this blog. But there are some stories where abject horror is the only appropriate emotional response, so…

Bill at the Abject Horror Desk: According to a whistleblower, the United States government is perpetrating some deeply horrific shit at ICE detention facilities, including forced hysterectomies, which is…let’s not fuck around: it’s Nazi shit. And we’ve been tightrope-walking along that gruesome line for quite some time now, but sterilizing human beings without consent is convene-the-war-crimes-tribunal-level stuff.

Bill at the Abject Horror Desk: This is one of those “it’s happening here” stories. It’s not the first, of course. I certainly hope it’s among the last, because a second Trump term is looking more and more like an audition to be counted alongside human history’s greatest evils, and while I do not agree with 100% of his platform, I just think Vice President Biden is a better option for America at this time.

Fucking hell. If I can humbly offer a glimmer of good news in the midst of the atrocity, the battle for a much-needed peaceful transition of power is going about as well as we could hope for. Bakery fresh polling shows Tangerine Idi Amin’s desperate ploy to win back the suburbs through violence and fear has failed, thank all the gods in all the heavens. And hey, if you require sprinkles on your already-scrumptious Democracy Cupcake, know that multiple last-minute attempts to sneak the ratfucking Green Party onto crucial swing state ballots have recently failed in court.

(To the Greens…personally, I can think of more effective ways of fighting for progressive outcomes than serving as willing pawns to a would-be American Hitler, but far be it from me to counsel against repeating tragic mistakes.)

If you’d told me four years ago that the day would come when I would take no pleasure in the misfortunes of John Bolton, I’d have assumed somebody was destined to give me a kitten named “John Bolton” as a joke, which would actually be pretty damn funny, but here in the Shittiest of All Possible Timelines what happened is, the Justice Department opened an investigation into Murderstache’s recent tell-all, as part of Redactor General William Barr’s ongoing corruption of our institutions of law, which is bad for Bolton, yes, but much worse for our poor, battered country, so no, there is no joy to be taken from John-John’s tribulations; truly, fascists ruin absolutely everything.

Well, thank god it’s Friday, anyhow. “But Cap, it’s only Tuesd-OH HANG ON I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE LIKE IT FEELS LIKE A WHOLE WEEK ALREADY BUT IT’S ONLY TUESDAY YOU WILY DOG YOU!” I think I should I sign off now, before I’m tempted to tell any more hilarious, hilarious jokes.

Please continue using and sharing the Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide, we’re raising some real money for our team! And be on the lookout for the forthcoming Kickstarter for my next comic book…MINE!