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.
Just Another Manic Monday…er, “Constitutional Crisis”
Ho hum, just another day in the never-ending struggle between the forces of good and evil. Here in the real world we don’t have shiny costumes or dragons…actually, it’s mostly very old white people in boring suits mumbling and writing letters to one another, but the stakes are distressingly similar.
So, the President of the United States of America misspelled “Kentucky” and blamed the controversial ending of a horse race on “political correctness.” When you observe this sort of behavior in a family member, you start having those difficult discussions about when it’s time to take granddad’s driver’s license away, right? I just hope somebody has replaced the actual, real, nuclear football with stuffed bunny, is all.
Kim Jong-un, perhaps looking to celebrate the platform on the world stage the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits gifted him in exchange for Not One Damn Thing, fired some new short-range missiles into the Sea of Japan. President Crotchvoid responded by praising the murderous autocrat, asking him if he’d like a back rub, or maybe another American tourist or two to torture to death. STRENGTH!
Unsatisfied with the jackhammer nut punch he’s already administering to midwestern farmers, and enraged that American consumers can still afford washing machines, the Manchurian Manchild threatened to dramatically increase tariffs on China ahead of a major trade negotiation, because he has confused belligerent bloviating with toughness, and believes everyone else is as stupid and infantile as he is.
Anyhow, stock markets dropped as the world once again wondered if this doddering, misinformed, nincompoop was really just about to blow up the global economy over his very fundamental misunderstanding of how trade works. In hindsight, it’s kinda funny that the founding fathers believed that in imposing a 35-year age minimum on the office, they’d successfully screened out potential presidents with sub-grade-school intellects. Not really ha-ha funny, but oh-hey-the-planet-of-the-apes-was-Earth-all-along funny.
I’m pitching a project tentatively titled Chicken Soup for the Resister’s Soul, and really all it is is a collection of videos of Ambulant Trashpile Laura Loomer melting down over her ongoing de-platforming. Sorry your dream of getting rich spreading the vilest imaginable hatred fell apart, kid….but then, I never got to play shortstop for the Cubs either. C’est la vie.
Florida Republicans moved a step closer to implementing their 21st century poll tax, as the GOP continues its steady regression into a Jim Crow cover band, playing all the biggest segregationist hits on the state-fairs-and-casinos circuit. We’re about six months away from Louie Gohmert reintroducing the Fugitive Slave Act on the House floor, I figure.
Kellyanne Conway is violating the Hatch Act again, and against the backdrop of so many existential threats to the American experiment, I think that’s frankly adorable. “Awwww…who would have lost her job months ago in any law-abiding administration? YOU would! YOU would! WHO’S A GOOD LITTLE PROPAGANDA MINISTRESS?”
Just a few short weeks after proclaiming total victory and vindication, Strawberry Shartcake has changed course, now insisting that Rugged Robert Mueller shouldn’t testify before Congress after all, probably cuz Democrats don’t deserve to see how completely exonerated he is. Eventually, we’ll have no choice but to enlist the talents of Nicolas Cage, in another globe-trotting Da Vinci Code knockoff, to reveal the secrets of Littlefinger’s exoneration, but for now, they must remain tantalizingly hidden.
One super fun thing we’re doing these days is wondering if Hairplug Himmler will actually acknowledge the electoral spanking he’s headed for in 2020, or if he’ll barricade himself in the Oval Office with a year’s supply of Oatmeal Creme Pies and his daughter’s prom photos to jerk off to, because he’s not quite willing to give up that sweet charging-the-Secret-Service-to-pee grift just yet and also because the Presidency is the only thing keeping him out of jail.
And now we find the Marmalade Shartcannon retweeting Noted Evangelifraud Jerry Falwell, Jr.’s suggestion that he should get two extra years tacked onto his term as “reparations” for the Russia investigation, like a spoiled rich kid flipping the Monopoly board over right after he lands on the property you’ve been filling with hotels for the last hour. Ventnor Avenue, probably. Affordable, but you can really fuck somebody up good with that one if you play it right. Nobody ever lands on Boardwalk anyway. You don’t see Ventnor Avenue coming, is all I’m saying.
Anyway, this talk of getting a do-over extension is either majestically pathetic or the most terrifying thing any president has ever proposed, and I guess we won’t know which until 2021 when we’ll be able to gauge it by whether or not we’re in a civil war, NEAT.
The Genocidal Mustache Symbiotically Attached to John Bolton’s Upper Lip isn’t getting any younger, you know. And while most dudes’ midlife crises take the form of chasing younger women or buying motorcycles, most dudes aren’t bloodthirsty, racist, war-hawks with the ear of a bloodthirsty, racist, idiot president. And so we have dispatched an aircraft carrier strike group and a bomber task force and a traveling jug band to the Middle East, because John-John just wants to rain death on little brown children one last time while he’s still young enough to enjoy it.
The Fascist Farthuffer’s Former Fixer, Michael Cohen, reported to rich white guy prison today, making one last feeble play to recast himself as some sort of resistance hero on the way out. Look, bro, thanks for all the evidence, and please keep a bunk warm for your unindicted co-conspirator, but you’re never gonna be Mayor of New York.
Redactor General William Barr wiped his ass with a subpoena ordering him to turn over the full Mueller report to Congress, so Jerry Nadler and the Judiciary Committee have a vote scheduled for Wednesday to hold Billy in contempt. Ranking Republican member Doug Collins calls Democrats’ demands “perverse,” which is an odd way to describe the entirely understandable drive to learn as much as possible about an attack on the United States by a hostile foreign power, but I suppose if you’re hellbent on protecting the Trump Cartel at any cost, genuine patriotism must seem obscene.
Isn’t it thrilling, watching our constitutional crisis play out in slow motion, according to parliamentary rules, in correspondence composed in the strictest legalese? I think the next step should be an formal ball, where congressional Democrats and stonewalling administration officials trade subtext-heavy barbs while performing an elaborate group chamber dance. Tom Stoppard should script.
Hey, you’re never gonna believe this, but Ollie North’s replacement at the NRA is a wee bit racist. Yes, Carolyn Meadows thinks nobody in the Georgia 6th voted for gun control activist Lucy McBath because she’s a gun control activist, but rather because she took advantage of that greatest of all possible political advantages: being a black woman in a southern congressional district with a lengthy history of selecting the shittiest imaginable white people, from Noot Gingrich to Tom Price to Karen Handel. It’s a real fuckin’ meritocracy over there at the Death Merchant Lobbyist Welfare House.
Anyway, racism is otherwise completely dead in Georgia, as you can plainly see here.
A small army (much larger than Weehands McNodick’s inauguration crowd, I’m told) of former federal prosecutors signed a great big Hallmark card which says “Congratulations on being president, cuz that’s the only reason your justice-obstructing ass isn’t being prosecuted all up down Pennsylvania Avenue right now.” And yeah, SPOILERS, he’s not leaving office peacefully or quietly. Y’know, there’s a scenario where there are so many different law enforcement officers from different jurisdictions bickering over who gets to take him into custody the very moment his successor finishes the oath of office, that he slithers away in the confusion.
And now I see Treasury Secretary Mnuchbag has decided to tell Congress “no you may not see the President’s tax returns, they contain evidence of far too many crimes, we’ll take our chances at that one place where we hired more than a quarter of the staff, whaddya call it…oh yeah, the Supreme Court.” The Game of Thrones crew could learn a little something about cliffhangers from real life, don’tcha think? TUNE IN NEXT WEEK TO SEE IF THE RULE OF LAW IS STILL A THING!
I mean, I’m not enjoying the writing or the performances, but I’m absolutely going to watch, if only to see whether or not my country survives. I hope after this next season, the show gets cancelled, though. And replaced with something nice and dull. Low stakes. “Oh, Tom Daschle didn’t pay all his taxes? How SCANDALOUS!” That kinda thing.
“Short” one tonight, trying to get back on schedule after a Friday post. Anyway, there’s probably more. I just don’t care about the golf thing, or the fashion thing, and I REALLY don’t the baby thing, but no judgment to those who do. Ok, maybe a little judgment.