Mike Pence is the Patron Saint of Mediocre White Dudes, and the Roman God of Failing Upwards.
A Democrat in his youth, Pence, like many men of limited intelligence, turned to religious conservatism for the convenience of being able to end arguments by claiming God shares his every fear and prejudice, while forgiving his every shortcoming, how convenient.
Secretary of State
Over the course of three decades, Rex Tillerson fucked, bribed, and murdered his way to the top of Exxon Mobil, like some sort of jowlsy Eva Peron.
Secretary of the Treasury
Steve Mnuchin, like his namesake, the Noise You Make When You’re Dry Heaving After Getting Food Poisoning From Eating Truck Stop Gas Station Roller Hot Pockets on a Road Trip, is deeply unpleasant, and may result in the involuntary voiding of foul-smelling bodily fluids.
Secretary of Defense
Chief of Staff
National Security Advisor
Holy shit, there are Generals all over the place these days, aren’t there?
Retired General James Mattis serves as Secretary of Defense. Retired General John Kelly ran Homeland Security for a bit, before becoming the Lead Executive Branch Babysitter, excuse me, Chief of Staff. H.R. McMaster’s the National Security Advisor, and hell, he’s still on active duty.
Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, third generation of his family to carry the name of a Confedarate piece of trash and also a second Confederate piece of trash, is living his dream. As Velveeta Goebbels’ Attorney General, he’s turning back the clock to a time when women and minorities knew their place, and mediocre white dudes like himself got to run everything, even if they weren’t especially bright.
Ryan Zinke is like if the crappiest robot in Westworld escaped and jumped into conservative politics. He’s such a cartoon cowboy, I bet his right boot says “Andy” on the bottom.
Secretary of Commerce
When a witch’s curse transformed his master into a Beast and his fellow servants into household objects, Wilbur Ross became a decorative garden gnome. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, he ventured out into the world to make his fortune in the realm of shady international finance and money laundering, and when True Love’s Kiss lifted the curse, Wilbur was too far away for the enchantment to reverse, and thus he remains trapped in gnome form forever.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
If the Hippocratic Oath is binding in any sort of spiritual sense, Tom Price is royally fucked, y’all. There is some straight Dante shit awaitin’ him in the afterlife.
Secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Dr. Ben Carson is only in politics because he was rude President Obama to his face. At the 2013 National Prayer Breakfast, a traditionally non-political event, Dr. Ben, having been invited as the keynote speaker, decided to use his time to shit on the President and his policies.
Secretary of Education
Betsy DeVos is what happens when bored white ladies have enough money to really fuck shit up. Turns out, if you’re born rich and marry richer, you don’t have to settle for a book club, you can buy yourself a whole cabinet department!
Administrator of the EPA
Scott Pruitt, like a lot of boys his age, grew up watching Captain Planet cartoons. Unlike most boys his age, he decided that the various sludge-smog-and-toxic-waste-slinging villains were the role models for him.
Ok, fine. Pruitt is ten years too old to have grown up on Captain Planet, but fuck you, that’s a good opening paragraph. Make your own fucking website, you don’t like it.
Chief of Staff
Nobody wants to be Reince Priebus when they grow up. He’s just so immediately recognizable as a weaselly little tapeworm of a man, y’know?
Reince Priebus is the sort of person who would be played by Brad Dourif in a film.
Steve Bannon played Bob Ewell in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and liked it so much he decided to stay in the character for the rest of his life.
A self-described Leninist, and an outspoken populist*, Bannon wants to kidney-punch the administrative state, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money.
Jared Kushner was born on third base and thinks he invented baseball.
Jared’s dad, Charles Kushner, went to jail for tax evasion, illegal campaign donations, and, ahem, “witness tampering,” by which I mean he set his brother-in-law up with a hooker (not, I’m sad to report, of the Pissing Russian variety) and recorded their genital-smushing in order to blackmail him.
When you worked for Akin, things weren’t simple
Cuz he got caught on tape
With legitimate rape
Senior Advisor for Policy
Why is it always the shittiest imaginable white dudes who turn out to be white supremacists?
Stephen Miller, who started balding eleven seconds after his conception, has by all accounts been a sack of monkey shit pretty much every single minute of his life.
Director of Communications
Oh wow, this new Communications Director looks like a real character, huh?
Where to begin? Ok, Anthony Scaramucci first came to –
Wait, what? Really?
White Supremacist Multi-Tool
Kris Kobach is like the protagonist of the white supremacist version of one of those Disney movies where a kid learns to chase his dreams, no matter how big. The kid gets tired of the monotonous grind of burning crosses on just one lawn at a time, and dreams of burning a cross big enough for the whole dang country!
Maybe he has a talking/singing Confederate flag for a sidekick. Named “Bedford.”
Roving Freelance Fascist
As seen in the famed documentary RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, when the Ark of the Covenant was opened on an uncharted island north of Crete, the burning light that issued thereof reduced the Nazi soldiers present to piles of ash and molten flesh. In time, the rains washed the fascist bio-goo into the island’s sewage system, where it mixed with the shit and piss and used tampons and such, and in time it congealed, took the shape of a man (albeit an unattractive one), slapped on a pair of glasses, and Sebastian Gorka was formed.
Speaker of the House
Paul Ryan was cloned from a single pubic hair plucked from Ayn Rand post-coitus and grown in a still in Charles Koch’s back yard.
Senate Majority Leader
Many years ago, Gamera was following the Grateful Dead on tour, and engaged in a brief-but-life-affirming affair with an Ohio River ‘gator that hung around Ma McConnell’s pig farm, picking off runts for sustenance. Nine months later, young Mitch emerged from a leathery egg, and devoured his fellow hatchlings, beginning his life-long love affair with hurting children.
I Beg Your PARDON, But It’s Time for a New Blog…Get It? GET IT?
Hey, everybody, it’s another light one; I’m spending most of my days and nights working on a rudimentary time machine designed to send what I believe will be some helpful, clarifying, specific, constitutional changes to James Madison, circa 1785 or so, cleverly hidden in the form of a racy-if-not-outright-pornographic pamphlet. Like, once I’ve captured J-Mad’s attention with a tantalizing drawing of a shapely ankle, he’ll notice it’s accented not with some lacy garter, but rather very fine text, reading “LIMIT PRESIDENTIAL PARDON POWER, DUMBASS.”
Noted Shoe Design Thief Ivanka Trump was dispatched to Dubai to play diplomat again, because that’s just the sort of thing you have to deal with when you make a semi-sentient shower drain hair clog President of the United States. Not content with the embarrassment she brought upon her country with her mere presence, Princess Grifty praised the autocratic, medieval, regimes in Saudi Arabia and the UAE for their infinitesimal gestures towards expanding women’s rights, even as female activists are brutally tortured in their jails. At least, I suppose, she demonstrated the good taste to save the remarks thanking the journalist-dismembering House of Saud for their contributions to the Trump Organization for a private conference.
A Florida Cult45er is refusing dialysis because the hospital won’t let him take his service animal to treatment with him, only the “service animal” is, and oh how I wish I was making this up, a life-sized cardboard cutout of Government Cheese Goebbels. Y’know, I think about the struggles millions of people face, seeking and often failing to obtain necessary healthcare, and I want to launch this loon into the fucking sun. I stopped taking my security blanket with me everywhere when I was…well, I don’t remember exactly, but it was before prom, anyway.
Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo is leading an effort to eliminate funding for a State Department cultural exchange program named in honor of Christopher Stevens, the U.S. Ambassador killed in the 2012 Benghazi attack. Why, it’s almost as if Stevens and the other Americans who died that day were never anything more than convenient props for a cynical Republican smear campaign, casually discarded once they were no longer useful. Everyone is disposable to the GOP, from Gold Star families to country-western groups to, y’know, the entire working class.
And I see the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits stocked the presidential limo with goat porn and stale fast food burgers, and took it for a joyride around the track at the Daytona 500. Now, in an era when one needs a scorecard to keep track of all the high crimes n’ misdemeanors, this seems like a tiny, barely-even-worth-mentioning story, a blip on the radar, or maybe the radar guy just sneezed on the screen, even. I mention that only to point out that this clearly illegal use of taxpayer-funded resources for a campaign activity would have been, far and away, the single biggest scandal of the entire Obama administration, and Sean Hannity would STILL be screaming about it, today, probably right at this very moment, in fact.
Anyway, I haven’t been able to to keep any food down since I heard Uncanny Valley Centerfold Stephen Miller got married. I confess I don’t like to think about the kind of person who looks into those eerily dead eyes and sees a soulmate, y’know? Miller seethes with such unconcealed hatred that even the clown car comms shop at the Shart House knows better than to put him on television, spray-on hair or no spray-on hair, and that there’s somebody out there broken enough to want to spend the rest of their life in the immediate vicinity of that sickness…oh god, here it comes again, it’s like I’ve never eaten anything but spoiled fish and rancid mayonnaise.
The Genocidal Mustache Symbiotically Attached to John Bolton’s Upper Lip continues history’s least-appealing striptease, batting his eyes and coquettishly implying that while he may indeed be sitting on heretofore unseen evidence that could save the republic were it only placed in the right hands, y’all will just have to wait to find out about it in John-John’s little ol’ bookie-book. Man, fuck this self-aggrandizing maniac. He’s not just fiddling on the deck of the Titanic, he’s setting up a Slip N Slide. Well, sell your books, Murderstache, maybe Hairplug Himmler will let you spend the proceeds in the Gulag commissary.
More than 2,000 former Justice Department officials are calling on Redactor General William Barr to resign, partially because he never fucking starts a new pot of coffee in the break room when he takes the last cup, but mostly for betraying American democracy by transforming federal law enforcement into a blunt instrument for a cheap crook President to wield with autocratic glee, a weapon of horrifying power with just two settings: HELP FRIENDS and SMASH ENEMIES. Man, why is it a power-mad, theocratic, goon like Barr who gets to see his wildest dreams come true? Why couldn’t it be some happy-go-lucky kid who just wants it to rain root beer every now and then?
And oh yeah, the pardons. Y’all, we’ve been misinterpreting the whole “drain the swamp” thing. Yes, the swamp stands for corruption, but we were wrong to assume Strawberry Shartcake agrees with us that corruption is a bad thing. Corruption is his life’s work, his one true passion, the only fucking thing he’s ever been any good at. Drain the swamp, yes, but drain it directly into the public water supply, spray it into the air we breathe, broadcast it in prime time on every channel, until America is one fetid, sweltering, swamp, spanning from sea to shining sea, no need for high-speed rail, just canoes and machetes!
Pundits are racking their brains trying to figure out what this latest wave of pardons means. Is he angling for some unseen demographic ahead of the general election? Paving the way for future pardons, of Stone and/or Manafort? You’re thinking too hard, kids, he just fundamentally disagrees with the notion that corruption is something to be punished, is all. It’s Dirtbag Darwinism, why should anyone face consequences for working the system, or bilking a few rubes? Silly rabbit, jail isn’t for wealthy white folks!
Anyway, here’s a partial list of Orange Julius Caesar’s pardons n’ commutations today: Auric Goldfinger, Rod Blagojevich*, Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase, Gordon Gekko, Michael Milken, Bob Ewell, The Xenomorph from the first Alien movie, Bernard Kerik, Thoth-Amon, Charles Montgomery Burns, Eddie DeBartolo Jr., the kid who grabbed all the Halloween candy from the unattended plastic jack-o-lantern with the sign that said “please only take one,” Benedict Arnold, Hans Gruber, and the Bubonic Plague.
But even today, the news isn’t all miscarriage of justice and overfull litter boxes; an appeals court in North Carolina blocked the state’s GOP-backed voter ID law, on account of how it’s a racist attempt to suppress the African-American vote, and Republicans were all “But that’s the whole point!” and anyway, this seems like a good time to ask y’all to chip in a buck or two towards Cal Cunningham’s campaign to send Trump toady Thom Tillis back to the private sector, don’tcha think?
Alright, folks, that’s all for tonight. I’d wish for more news in order to merit longer blog posts, but I certainly don’t want to risk unleashing the Trump-era version of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, y’know?
*Who today became the very first presidential commutation recipient upon whose lawn I have urinated.