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 Regret to Inform You That Jared Kushner is Now in Charge of This Blog
Hello! I’m television’s Jared Kushner, and my Daddy-in-Law nationalized this blog and gave it to me to run! Now, I know you fans of Bath Captain enjoy your humor, so I’ve decided to outsource tonight’s post to my close, personal, friend…CARROT TOP! I sure hope prop comedy translates to prose!
Just kidding, folks, I would never do that to you. The President of the United States, however, has seen fit to expand Kushner’s portfolio as Secretary of Pouring Gasoline on Fires to include overseeing the tragic clusterfuck they’re laughably referring to as the federal coronavirus response. While young Jar-Jar has failed to solve the opioid crisis or bring peace to the Middle East, he has recently, at long last, graduated to pull-up diapers, so Littlefinger felt he deserved a promotion. Distressingly, there haven’t yet been 25 books written about the coronavirus, so Kid Nepotism will be unable to bring the full force of his intellect down upon the disease, but hey, I bet he totally tricked it into leaving us alone with his drive-thru-MBA-speak the other day.
With the federal medical supply stockpile rapidly dwindling, the Crown Prince of Failing Upwards decided to redefine said stockpile as the Trump family’s personal playpen, with goodies to be dispensed according to whim and asskissery. The creepy little freak even doctored the official website after the fact to reflect his lie/mistake, because cut-rate Orwell is just how this administrations rolls, muthafuckas.
Senator Kelly Loeffler may not be much when it comes to serving the people of Georgia, but when serving herself, she’s Daniel Goddamn Webster. She certainly kept busy while leaving all us chump plebs to die, making a number of savvy investment moves based on the coronavirus briefings she shared not with her constituents, but with her stockbroker. See, she dumped retail and travel stock just before the economy shut down, and snatched up shares of medical suppliers like Beanie Babies, back when Beanie Babies were a thing. Anyway, I’m sure we’ll all be surprised when the Loeffler family turns out to just happen to own the emergency morgue trucks called into service near overburdened hospitals.
With more than 9 million people newly out of work, and, with health insurance so frequently tied to employment, the corresponding surge in the uninsured, Government Cheese Goebbels refused to re-open the Obamacare exchanges, because he’d rather let millions of us die than allow a program bearing his predecessor’s name to save suffering Americans’ lives. Also, Putin told him not to.
Speaking of Vlad, I’m certainly thankful for the help, but the sight of a military plane from a fifth-rate ex-superpower like Russia touching down on American soil to deliver medical supplies, like we’re some backwoods shithole country, because Generalissimo Germophobe bungled away weeks of precious time coddling his approval ratings, was enough to turn a bald eagle red with shame. The equipment even came from a sanctioned Russian company, just to remind everyone who’s boss.
Out in L.A., some crotchsniffing nutjob, in the thrall of as yet undisclosed conspiracy theories, crashed a freight train in an attempt to run into a Navy hospital ship. I dunno, I get that everybody’s on edge these days, but I feel like I’d need some real concrete proof of some real nasty shit before I CRASHED A TRAIN INTO A HOSPITAL SHIP. A full confession. Notarized. God only knows what bat-guano-encrusted internet rabbit hole this loon fell down, but I guess from now we all need to demand to see the pilot/engineer/driver’s search history before boarding any mode of public transportation.
The artifact-smuggling rectal boils who run Hobby Lobby have decided that what Jesus would do during a pandemic is tell the law to lick his holy butthole, endanger his employees and the public generally, and reopen his chain of chintzy craft supply stores in defiance of shelter-in-place orders. These demonic shitbags actually had the gall to claim God swung by for a quick vision to tell them he was totally down with their employees risking their lives to sell glitter and yarn. As delusions go, it must be awfully nice to convince yourself that the voice in your head telling you to fuck everyone around you over for personal profit is God’s.
Sultan Spraytan tried to spice up the Daily Propaganda Spew with some gobbledygook about drugs cartels, hoping to squeeze some non-coronavirus headlines out of his captive audience, oh that tricky dotard. It’s fucking adorable that this clown imagines he can distract us from his failings. WE’RE TRAPPED INSIDE OUR HOMES, NUMBNUTS! We have HOURS every single day to ruminate on all the ways you’ve fucked up our lives and our country. You could dance for the cameras in pasties and a g-string* and we still wouldn’t forget any of the shit you’ve broken.
Dr. Anthony Fauci has emerged as America’s Unlikely Sweetheart, a beacon of truth in a sea of warm liquid bullshit…at least to the segments of the populace who still value stupid cuck stuff like “science” and “facts.” To the lunatic, QAnon, crash-trains-into-hospital-ships crowd, however, he is just one more deep state heretic working to undermine the Emperor of Hemorrhoids, and thus he now requires his own security detail, to keep the mouth-breathing maniacs from murdering him. Obviously, it’s a super-healthy society we’ve got here, where the deceitful buffoons racking up horrendous body counts with their lies get a pass, and the one dude who actually wants to save lives gets death threats. Also, we’re apparently crashing trains into hospital ships now, I don’t know if I mentioned that.
Dorito Mussolini has taken a lot of flak for mismanaging this crisis in ways that not even a reasonably well-domesticated cat would have fucked up, probably because tens, if not hundreds of thousands of us will die as a result of his mistakes, but if he were really as incompetent as the lamestream media says he is, would he have had the foresight to have the Secret Service place an emergency order for golf carts near one of his tacky-ass resorts? This is a man who is totally prepared…for the first available moment to drop the facade that he gives half a passing fuck about anything but himself.
Republican governors must be running some kind of psychotic dead pool, where they’re competing with each other to see who can get the most citizens killed without angry mobs dragging them from their mansions. And merely defying common sense by allowing public gatherings is low-hanging fruit in this contest; to excel, you have to demonstrate real commitment and creativity in your quest for the largest red state mass grave of all. James Woods is your host on…America’s Next Apocalyptic Wasteland Overlord!
Brian Kemp, still illegitimately squatting in Atlanta, really went the extra murderous mile, obscenely claiming that he allowed the coronavirus to dance merrily across the fields of Dixie, unimpeded by any filthy Yankee stay-the-fuck-home order, because he’s only just now learning that asymptomatic carriers can transmit the wee fucker. Future gubernatorial debates in the Peach State will have to take a few steps back from intricate policy details, to questions like “do you pay attention to the world around you?”
Florida-Man-in-Chief Ron DeSantis remains a heavy favorite; honestly at this point he’s in contention for a whole paragraph in your grandkids’ history textbooks as an example of disastrously lethal leadership during a pandemic. DeSantis finally issued a shelter-in-place order, with the addendum “…but only if you really wanna,” even going so far as to formally overrule any local governments who might want to, I dunno, keep people alive. What can I say, he sincerely believes in the religious liberty…to give your neighbors deadly diseases.
Just to add a personalized pinch of malice to that store-bought incompetence mix, Ron-Ron initially refused to allow any passengers from a nearby coronavirus-stricken cruise ship to disembark, before finally agreeing to take just the Floridians, inviting the rest of the passengers and crew to fuck off to sea in their death boat. Remember, you (almost) can’t spell dysentery without DeSantis!**
Iowa’s Kim Reynolds made a surprising late surge in the race, as one of the last remaining governors refusing to issue a shelter-in-place order, additionally suggesting that perhaps it is Anthony Fauci who is a dumb-dumb who does not brain good, while Kim Reynolds is the genius who knows all the things and maybe she should be the doctor and no, you can’t stack those corpses in her office, why would you even ask?
I dunno, maybe these blood-drenched idiots believe that if enough of their citizens die off, the general electorate won’t be large enough to call a quorum come reelection time? You know, the whole “science is a tool Democrats use to manipulate you” horseshit was one thing when it was a cynical control system deployed by wealthy Republican elites to keep their base angry, stupid, and engaged, but now that it’s trickled down into the actual belief systems of their elected officials, it’s getting people killed. And their brainwashed dolt voters will STILL stick around because of shit like the War on Xmas.
(By the way, even if the COVID-19 outbreak lasts all year, we’re not canceling the War on Xmas. I don’t care if I get sick; this year, Santa dies.)
We saw the invevitable flip side of the sociopathic coin that led Tangerine Idi Amin to pardon serial killer Eddie Gallagher, with the firing of Capt. Brett Crozier, commander of the USS Theodore Roosevelt, for (checks notes) protecting the lives of the sailors serving under him. See, with the coronavirus tearing through his ship, Crozier committed the unforgivable sin of sending a letter asking for help rather than sitting quietly in his floating plague pit like a good little boy. Odd, isn’t it, that the Treasonweasel Administration’s policy of punishing whistleblowers, rather than those whose incompetence or malfeasance necessitated whistleblowing in the first place, has failed to produce functional government?
Having delegated crucial excuse-making authority to his dipshit son-in-law, Fat Q*Bert suddenly found himself with a bunch of time on his (tiny, inadequate) hands, so he grabbed the only crayon in the Resolute desk he hadn’t eaten yet, and wrote Chuck Schumer a little letter. Boy, there’s one to hang above the crapper in the Trump Library, right? He’s not even good at playground insults, y’know? It’s like watching the soft suburban kids I grew up with try to battle rap.
Well, Shart Garfunkel’s approval rating has reached 100%…among novel coronaviruses! How can they not love him, after all he’s done to spread them through the American populace? It seems like every day brings fresh news of the breakdown of the pandemic detection-and-fighting infrastructure caused by the Clowncar Full of Rectums squatting in the White House, from ending an early-warning program aimed specifically at coronaviruses, to failing to do maintenance on ventilators in the stockpile. Outside of bombing hospitals, could he have possibly rolled out a bigger, fatter, welcome mat for this thing?
Well, the CDC finally recommended that all Americans wear masks when going out in public, proving once again that I’m a goddamn trendsetter. Oh, it’s supposed to cover your mouth? But then I couldn’t drink beer. Hey, that reminds me, I have, um, “work” to do, so I’ve gotta sign off now. Stay safe out there, friends.
*Please do not do this.
**Yeah, that one doesn’t really work, does it? But I kept it in anyway. If you don’t like it, start your own fuckin’ blog.