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.
If Roger Stone Wants to Go to Jail So Badly, I Say Let Him, and Other News
Aw, thanks for all the birthday wishes, Shower Captives. I may be getting surly in my old age, or maybe it’s just the news, assaulting me like a tennis ball machine lobbing ball-peen hammers directly at my temple. Let’s wade through it and find out…
The President of the United States strolled out before the slobbering pack of feral assclowns that make up the CPAC audience, dry-humped a flag, and ranted like a deranged street preacher from a deleted scene in a Werner Herzog film for two hours. It was like watching Colonel Kurtz address Jonestown immediately following an icepick lobotomy.
What, am I supposed to go through that entire feature-length Klan rally rant to break down every lie, delusion, and treasonous digression? There’s not enough beer in the world. This is what they pay Daniel Dale for.
You know, Donald Trump really is an amazing man, capable of amazing things. Don’t believe me? Well, I’d never have imagined that an all-but-openly-genocidal nutcase like John Bolton had anything resembling a reputation left to ruin, but watching that Emaciated Wilford Brimley Clone bumble through the Sunday Shoz, trying to explain precisely why the President had strapped on a collar and handed Kim Jong-un the leash, I realized that there’s always a little more room to fall, especially when you voluntarily enter the orbit of the Decency Black Hole squatting in the White House.
Roger Stone, unaccustomed to accountability after a life of free-range scumfuckery, keeps poking at the limits of his gag order, literally trying to sneak the publishing of an entire book past the judge presiding over his case. And his cutesy little Instagram posts have drawn the watchful eye of Bodacious Bob Mueller himself. Yeah, Roger seems to be in an awful hurry to report to prison, and even though I don’t care for the guy, I think we should give him what he wants here.
The Oversight Renaissance is flourishing, my friends! You could basically put the names of all the Democratic House committee chairs in one hat, and a list of every known crime in another, and play Mad Libs on a “________ announced an investigation into the President’s alleged _________” template.
Maxine Waters is pokin’ around in Wee Don’s dealings with Deutsche Bank to see if there’s anything more sinister than the inevitable safe deposit box full of experimental penis enlargement pumps. Of course the Velveeta Vulgarian is already so terrified of Adam Schiff that his grandkids are all trying to get ahold of Adam Schiff masks for Halloween. Elijah Cummings got the party started last week with Michael Cohen, and now he’s coming for young Jar-Jar’s security clearance.
And then there’s Jerry Nadler. For anyone under the impression that Jerry Nadler is fucking around, I am here to inform you that Jerry Nadler is not, in fact, fucking around. If you wanted to write a Broadway musical about the House Judiciary Committee finally fulfilling its constitutional duty to conduct oversight of a historically corrupt executive branch, you would probably title it Jerry Nadler is Not Fucking Around. You could have all the chorus kids dress up like document requests, but you’d need 81 dancers. Just so far.
They seem to want an awful lotta docs, friends, from a long list of shady characters. I’m sending ‘em my third-grade report on the noble aardvark, just in case. You know, sometimes a document request grows up to be a subpoena, and sometimes subpoenas turn into televised testimony, and sometimes, when the Rule of Law and a Scandal-Weary Nation love each other very much, they have a special hug called Impeachment. I’ll explain it when you’re older.
Anybody else sick of articles about how our intelligence community has to practically make balloon animals and pole dance to get the Candycorn Skidmark to pay attention to the security briefings that are designed to give him the information he needs to, y’know, protect the country from harm? I guess the latest strategy involves framing the briefings in economic terms. Joke’s on you, IC! Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops doesn’t understand the economy any more than he does the nigh-supernatural engineering behind the fearsome umbrella!
Hey look, Rand Paul decided to actually stick to one of his loudly-professed principles for a change, and it looks like we’ve got the votes to overturn Government Cheese Goebbels’ unconstitutional emergency declaration! Of course, the Dotard is expected to veto the measure, but only after hiring Russian hookers to pee on it first. Anyway, we’ll have the official vote soon enough, and we can all enjoy a wild-eyed, unhinged, cackle at just how few Senate Republicans are willing to protect our Constitution from this reckless wannabe dictator.
Looks like Matthew Whitaker has left the Justice Department, or maybe been fired, or maybe he just lost his keys to the vigorous flush of an extra-manly toilet. No word at this time whether this departure has anything to do with the fact that Matt a raging dumbass who no rational person would trust to run a Dunkin Donuts, let alone the fucking Department of Justice.
Guess who’s joining Whitaker on the unemployment line? Squeezably-Soft Telefascist Sebastian Gorka, who totally wasn’t fired by Fox, you guys, he just finds the intimacy of smaller, nuttier, fringier, outlets so much more REAL, y’know, none of that bullshit corporate propaganda-spewing! Basically he’s a hipster hate-monger, and he’ll be reciting manifestos in sandwich shops by Xmas.
Maybe Matt n’ Seb can pitch a reality show about two rage-filled losers with no marketable skills trying to find jobs, or even human beings willing to spend ten minutes in their company.
Hey, you know the ship is running smoothly when a yogurt-brained troll like Brad Parscale can cause turmoil in the highest levels of the executive branch by going into business for himself and passing off his personal pet policy as an official Drumpf 2020 campaign plank. Of course, when the high-water mark for competence among your inner circle is Reince Priebus, you have to expect this sort of thing.
Hey, if you want somebody to take a wet sloppy dump right in your Crunch Berries, how ‘bout spending some time with this article from the New Yorker? It’s a light-hearted romp through the story of how Fux Nooz devolved from a merely dishonest spin factory to an all-consuming parasite, infecting America’s worst and dimmest with fear and hate and lies, weaponizing the weak-minded and weak-willed for the benefit of the wealthy, until a certain Marmalade Shartcannon waddled up and said, “Hey you rubes, let’s see if we can’t burn this whole fucking country down in four years or less!”
Other highlights from this guided tour of Rupert Murdoch’s Made-to-Order Misinformation Hellscape included a little tidbit about Fux getting ahold of the Stormy Daniels payoff story before the election, and killing it on behalf of the Emperor of Turdmaggots, and also Fat Q*Bert’s ham-fisted* attempt to get the Justice Department to stop the ATT&T/Time Warner merger, because CNN hurt his fee-fees with all their verdammte fact-checking and objective reporting.
You’ll be pleased to learn that Louisiana Senator John Kennedy helpfully lent his phony Aw Sucks I’m Just A Country Boy Not a Willing Steward for Fascism charm to Tangerine Idi Amin’s plan to tack the First Amendment to a cross and incinerate it. John’s such a slick, insidious, fraud…one of these days he’s gonna tour one of Kirstjen Nielsen’s Kiddie Koncentration Kamps, dressed as some nightmarish clown, passing out sugar cookies and lemonade.
I see Shart Garfunkel rolled out the drive-thru buffet for another visiting championship team today. Amazing. He only repeats his dumbest ideas, have you noticed that? Tariffs, wall money demands, North Korea summits, fast food. Or maybe he’s just trying to cheapen the presidency so much that nobody but a cheap grifter like himself or his dull-eyed, sluglike, children would ever want it, who knows?
Hey, we’ve finally got a date for that make-up election in the North Carolina 9th, after all that criminal Republican election fraud! If you’ve got a spare buck or two, toss it Dan McCready’s way, because somehow, his likely Republican opponent actually looks like a step down from “Pastor” Mark Harris. Never underestimate the ability of the GOP to find somebody even worse, is all I’m saying.
I keep telling y’all that we live in Hell, but I know many of you remain doubtful. “You’re just a drunk fuck in a superhero bathrobe and luchador mask, Cap, what do you know about Hell?” Fair enough. But if this isn’t hell, how do explain the story about how the World Motherfucking Wildlife Fund has been financing horrific human rights abuses for years? SEE? HELL!
Wow. Kinda slow so far this week, huh? It’s been three whole days since my last blog, and we’ve only seen as much batguano-level insanity as an equivalent year in the Obama administration, as opposed to the customary full-term’s-worth. Maybe I won’t need the whole six-pack to dull my senses and grant the sweet escape of slumber tonight.
*In describing Trump as “ham-fisted,” I’m obviously talking about the tiny little cubes used in salads.