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
Mike Pompeo is one of those performatively pious fake Christians who loves using his loudly-claimed-but-seldom-followed faith like a cudgel while ignoring every single word of the actual Bible, including “and” and “the.”
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.
William Barr actually taught me a valuable lesson. See, I didn’t look too closely at Bill when he was nominated to be Attorney General. After Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions and the masculine toilet guy, honestly, he looked like a nice, refreshing, safe, traditional Republican. An institutionalist who could bring a little much-needed stability.
And then he turned out to be a fascist, and one of the most dangerous enemies of democracy in American history. Whoops. My bad.
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.
Daddy’s Little Girl
Ivanka Trump is what happens when you cross Gwyneth Paltrow with Mussolini’s dumbest, laziest aide-de-camp. Watching her try to sell her father’s fascism as some sort of pro-woman lifestyle brand, marketed in the sickliest imaginable shade of pink, has been one of the most bizarre subplots of this nightmare we can’t seem to pinch ourselves out of.
So, while Melania Trump is perhaps not as shitty as many of the crooks, Nazis, and Nazi crooks who inhabit her dirtbag husband’s world, she manages to impressively shitty in her own right.
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.
Susan Collins is How It Happens Here, folks.
She’s supposed to be the rational centrist. The one who stands up to the increasingly-rabid gaggle of turd-spewing hyenas known as the Republican Party when they go too far. That’s whole point of Susan Collins. It’s the brand she’s been selling the people of Maine for years.
Anybody wondering if the GOP is still the party of Lincoln gets their answer whenever they take in James Daniel Jordan’s tension-racked, jacketless frame as he does his “indignant soccer dad demands to see a manager” routine during a committee hearing. Lincoln? That ship has sailed, caught fire, sunk, and been overrun by sea slugs and the ghosts of unusually shitty pirates. Sorry.
Official Sponsors of American Fascism
Chuck and Davey Koch decided that popping out of a rich lady’s vagina gave them the right to reshape the world however they saw fit, hurting whoever they wanted to in the process, and since the fundamental driving impulse of your average Republican politician is to sell out to the highest bidder, they haven’t exactly been proven wrong.
Let’s Just Purge All Our Kavanaugh/Collins Angst All at Once, and Move the Fuck On.
Hey, today sure sucked, huh? I’ll always remember October 5th, 2018 as the day Susan Collins droned endlessly on while somebody took a jackhammer to my crotch. Next year I’ll bake a cake shaped like Susan Collins droning endlessly on while somebody takes a jackhammer to my crotch.
Yeah, shit’s good n’ righteously fucked up this week, Shower Captives. I know it’s got you down. So let’s start with the good news, because there’s a fair amount of it, and you should let it fuel and inspire you.
The fight for the House is going well. 60 different Democratic House candidates raised a million bucks or more in the 3rd quarter, indicative of an enthusiasm that a handful of conservative mega-donors can’t hope to match. Republicans have already started backing out of races they view as unwinnable, abandoning some high-profile incumbents in the process.
Mom’s-Basement-Dweller/Ring Around the Toilet Some Call the “Manosphere” Roosh V has closed down his pathetic little woman-hating website, because like all MRAs (look it up), he’s a big ol’ loser. The stunted man-children of the internet will now have one fewer site to hang out and radicalize each other on. Why? Because a shaming campaign cut him off from advertisers and payment platforms. Activism in action.
Speaking of scuzzbag hatemongers facing crippling financial consequences, I’m pleased to report that the economic dogpile burying emotional terrorist Alex Jones has been enthusiastically joined by…Alex Jones! Yessir, with revenue streams plummeting after getting banned from every significant social media platform, Captain BBQ Nips has decided to burn through his dwindling cash reserves in a fruitless lawsuit against PayPal, perhaps imagining that screaming “I WAS TOO BUSY HARASSING SANDY HOOK PARENTS TO READ THE TERMS OF SERVICE” might be a viable legal argument.
The Washington Times lost a lawsuit, and was forced to retract a column spreading baseless conspiracy theories about Seth Rich’s murder, because daily gaslighting notwithstanding, the truth still matters, goddammit. The truth can still win out, and does, and you shouldn’t forget that.
And just to smother these Good News biscuits in schadenfreude gravy, four more white nationalist colontumors are behind bars right now, facing charges for inciting violence in Charlottesville. Knock yourselves out chanting “You will not replace us” in the prison laundry room, you little skidmarks.
See, I know shit feels hopeless sometimes. I know the last two years have felt like a herd of drunken frat boys slapping you in the face with sacks full of dog turds, day in, day out. I know you’re sick to death of it.
But y’see, our culture stomping on malignant imps like Roosh and Jones shows you that we have all this pent-up justice-seeking energy massing, straining for any outlet for release. You see it in the eagerness to track down every viral-video racist shitworm and make sure they face consequences for their hatefulness. You see it in our fundraising. You see it in your own social media feed, don’t you?
Our Constitution, bless its heart, demands that we live with the consequences of any given national election for two whole years, like rubbing a dog’s nose in the mess he made, I guess. We’ve had the will to take our country back this whole time, all we’ve lacked is the mechanism. But in just one short month, we get to VOTE again, friends. And then everything changes.
So yeah, the rest of the news is pretty shitty. It’s full of terrible people doing terrible things, because so much of the power in this country is concentrated in the hands of outhouse-souled rat bastards. For now, anyway. But not forever.
I say, let this crap get under your skin. All of it. Every little bit of it, from the petty to genuinely abominable. Let it piss you off. It SHOULD piss you off. It’d piss any decent person off. Get so goddamn angry that you can’t rest easy until you’ve sandblasted this repugnant political ragecult out of every nook and cranny of the country you love.
President Truck Stop Gas Station Urinal Cake, who famously can’t be bothered to read multi-page national security briefings, somehow found the time to yell at a sketch comedy show again. Nice to see, nearly halfway through his term, the Dotard still understands the Streisand Effect about as well as he understands the economy.
You sort of figure that a lot of governing these days revolves around a handful of Miller-esque staffers, on Skype with Bannon and Gorka, browsing the legal code in search of whatever avenues for institutional bigotry, however large or small, fall under the purview of the executive branch.
They found one this week.
Team Veryfinepeople decided to stop issuing visas for the same-sex partners of visiting diplomats unless they’re legally married. But, because so few foreign nations have legalized marriage equality, this is ultimately a quick n’ easy way to HURT PEOPLE, which is of course the chief aim of the ruling regime. It doesn’t make one single American’s life one bit better, it’s just one more example of these resentment-driven colontermites saying, “We have the power to stick our thumb in your eye, and therefore we will do so.”
Oh, and the bastards are even rolling back regulations on radiation exposure, going so far as to suggest a little radiation might even be GOOD for you, kinda like a single glass of red wine with dinner! I dunno, guys. With all the rage you fucks’re kicking up these days, I would be particularly cautious about creating potential Hulks.
(See, at this point, you’re already well past being Mad Enough to Vote. You’re Mad Enough to Make Sure Everybody You Know is Voting, right? And we’re just gettin’ warmed up.)
Cuz now we can talk about the atrocities unearthed in the IG report on DHS’s family separation policy, from the shameless dishonesty of administration officials, to the clusterfuck execution, to the horror of cells with nooses and guards laughing derisively at “suicide failures.”
Hear that? If anybody’s still clutching at their pearls, insisting “it can’t happen here?” It’s happening here. That’s the banality of human evil, right there. On American soil. By American citizens. It’s happening. It happened. Are you angry yet? Well, what are you going to DO about it?
Tucker Carlson’s steady transformation into the mouthpiece of a totalitarian government in a low-budget sci-fi TV series continues apace, as he’s now openly babbling about “white genocide.” Nobody wants white genocide, you silly boy. We might take a look at culling some of the squinty, pompous, bloviating, propagandists, especially if they have Douchey-Parent-in-a-John-Hughes-Movie haircuts, but we haven’t finalized the plans yet.
The Failing New York Times published a massive expose, laying out the Grand Wizard Grifter’s lifetime of serious financial crimes. It’s a beautiful piece of journalism, revealing all sorts of fuckery from the merely shady to the downright felonious, and it’s all impeccably documented. It would have ended any one of the first 44 Presidencies within a week.
But because the modern Republican Party is so completely lawless, the immediate consequences for Boss Shart fell somewhere between jack shit and fuckall.
Does that make you mad? It makes me mad. It makes me want to install a Democratic House majority, so these claims can be investigated by folks who think maybe the President shouldn’t be a gangster.
In the meantime, we can all enjoy New York State and City using the NYT story as the basis for new efforts to claw back the swindled money. Gosh, between this and all the legal fees, you have to wonder if the Swiss Family Robinshart will even be able to afford cigarettes in the prison commissary when all is said and done.
Oh, and we got further confirmation that Fat Q*Bert lied about his role in the whole Stormy Daniels payoff melodrama, denting his popularity with so-called “evangelical Christians” nary a whit, despite the whole “lawbreaking/lying about infidelity” thing, and I tell ya, folks, I’m really starting to get suspicious of all these megachurch pastors’ moralizin’.
Things’re actually looking crappy all-around on Shartboy’s financial front these days. Forbes informs us his net worth took a billion-dollar crotch-punt over the last year, perhaps because Charging the Secret Service to Pee hasn’t panned out as a major new revenue stream. Turns out, when your business is branding, it ain’t good when your brand becomes synonymous with “Evil Perpetrated by Racist Boneheads.”
And hey, we all got the Presidential alert on our phones, right? I guess Shart Garfunkel still hasn’t found his own dick, and was wondering if anybody else had seen it? He’s gettin’ panicky.
We’re told Stephen Miller, who somehow manages to be a white supremacist even though it’s Obviously Inadequate Stephen Miller staring back at him in the mirror every day, very nearly talked Boss Dotard into banning all Chinese students from studying in America, which would’ve provided the Dirtbag Double Whammy of serving Miller’s relentless, animating, racism and sticking it to those librul elites with their book-learning and their tolerance and their VERDAMMTE HEADS FULL OF THICK, LUXURIANT HAIR.
Ok, let’s do the Kavanaugh shit. Let’s just dive into this overflowing vomitorium of horror, and roll around in it. Has to be done.
We spent the week waiting on the FBI investigation into the allegations against Kavanaugh. Little did we know we weren’t getting an ACTUAL investigation, but rather a little kid dressed up in a 10 dollar Wal-Mart Halloween costume of an investigation.
See, the FBI didn’t interview all of the relevant witnesses. They didn’t talk to Avenatti’s new client, because they decided her accusation wasn’t credible, BECAUSE REASONS, though Avenatti later issued a sworn statement from a corroborating witness. They failed to follow up with a list of potential witnesses presented by Deborah Ramirez, because the Shart House told them not to.
They were also forbidden from looking into whether Kavanaugh lied under oath about his college drinking, likely because Kavanaugh clearly lied under oath about his college drinking. It’d be funnier if it wasn’t staggering corruption that will effect millions of folks’ lives for decades.
Well, it was good enough to prompt the inevitable foot-shufflin’, aw-shucks speech from Senator Eeyore, excuse me, “Jeff Flake,” who said, “Garsh, I only asked for an investigation, I shoulda gone and specified that it needed t’be a GOOD one, but I didn’t, anyhoo I vote Aye.”
Ben Sasse must’ve been studying at Flake’s jittery knee, since he gave a big weepy/phony speech about how #MeToo is a really important thing and believing women is another important thing even though he won’t be believing these particular women because he really really wants this particular fellow on the Supreme Court so he can take away all the very-believable women’s reproductive rights.
You might expect Drumpfy to exercise a little caution with so much on the line, but caution is not the Velveeta Vulgarians style, insomuch as a septuagenarian who can neither tie a tie nor order a steak can be said to possess “style.” And so he couldn’t stop himself from casually insulting a female reporter in front of the whole fucking world. “I know you’re not thinking. You never do,” he blurted, and I suppose we should give him credit for declining to high-five himself over this sickest of burns.
Now, ME, if I were a widely-loathed President, lookin’ down the business end of a midterm ass-kicking courtesy of a historic gender gap, that’s the kind of shit I’d avoid.
Treasury Secretary Mnuchbag could be seen, cackling like teen rom-com villain’s sidekick at the offhandedly sexist dig. I wonder if he’ll be as amused when he’s fending off subpoenas next spring, after fed-up Americans conduct a mass-firing of his boss’ craven Congressional enablers?
Oh, and afterwards, the gaslighting brigade had the official transcript doctored to make it look like Donnie Two-Scoops had said, “I know you’re not THANKING,” like some sort of 1984 coloring book.
A bunch of law professors sent a letter saying “Don’t confirm this unhinged jagoff.” A bunch of church leaders sent their own letter saying “Maybe find somebody less rapey and more honest?” The stray cats in my neighborhood constructed an elaborate turd mural in the alley behind building, spelling “KavaNOPE” in perfect, glistening cat shit. Even John Paul Stevens pointed out the obvious: we can do better than this jackass, and we should.
Still, we quickly arrived at the Carpet Bomb the Victim portion of the shitshow. The full force of the Republican Party and their propaganda apparatus are coming down on Dr. Ford, and the other accusers. They’re now all STD-ridden deep state dominatrix sex maniacs who self-hypnotize to beat lie detector tests and run child sex slavery rings out of pizza restaurants, prolly. It’s all insanely ridiculous and easily debunked, but never forget how ready the Rube Army is to believe anything terrible about a perceived enemy; who needs evidence when you have HATE?
And now, if you find any comment thread on any internet platform even touching on the subject, you’ll find Christine Blasey Ford is as reviled by the rank-and-file MAGAt crowd as Barack Obama or Hilary Clinton, spoken of in the most disgusting terms imaginable. And at the Marmalade Shartcannon’s rallies, the feral hordes madly scream, “Lock her up!”
Speaking of the rallies, yeah, let’s swim to the very bottom of this septic tank. You don’t need me to tell what happened; you saw it yourself. The President of the United States, looking as proud as can be, openly mocked a sexual assault survivor, to the delight of the Shittiest White Folks in All Mississippi.
Shit, I’m not even mad about that one. That one bit, that one gag with its smirking cruelty and casual male supremacy, generated thousands of dollars in donations to Dem candidates, and mobilized God only knows how many tens of thousands of work hours from door-knockers and phone-bankers. That riff, Lil’ Man Shart, will be the difference-maker in more than one Congressional race next month. I hope you enjoyed the laugh, it’ll prove to be one very expensive joke.
I’m starting to think maybe John McCain was Lindsey Graham’s last Horcrux, and now that he’s finally shed the burden of the last fragment of his human soul, he’s simply embracing the dark, pulsating core of evil that pumps not blood, but a black, acidic, tar through his veins. He’s betting on hard on Trumpism even as the day of Trumpism’s comeuppance looms, and I’m really looking forward to it blowing up in his face.
After a few days of protests, Mitch McConnell and his merry band of geriatric scumfucks found room for themselves beneath the blanket of Real Victimhood they hastily threw over Kavanaugh. Yertle’s even speechifyin’ about how his jaunty crew of Wealthy n’ Powerful Old Guys will not be “intimidated” by the marauding armies of…sexual assault survivors.
And every time Chuck Grassley opens the puckered sphincter he has for a mouth, he spits out something even more vile and hateful than the last time, like the old racist grandparent you had to stop taking out to dinner because he uses ethnic slurs to call the waitress. Seriously, EVERY TIME HE SPEAKS.
Ol’ Upchuck even leant support to his Turd Emperor’s crazed conspiracy theory that those weren’t REAL sexual assault survivors protesting everywhere over the last week! Naw, they were paid protestors, financed by the malicious, shadowy, billionaire Jew Cabal! No worries! Just the most powerful men in the nation, belching up talking points from the darkest, frothiest, corners of the far-right!
Orrin Hatch is…no better.
John Cornyn, who had his shame surgically removed some time ago, had the audacity to compare the Senate GOP’s gaggle of Dust-Covered Old White Dudes Who Smell Like a Roadside Antique Mall to…Atticus Freakin’ Finch. Truly, who can forget Atticus’ immortal line, “Before I can live with other folks I’ve got to live with myself, and all those millions in Koch bros donations make livin’ with myself easier than you might think!”
Also, “It’s a sin to drunkenly rub your penis in someone’s face, Scout. JUST KIDDING, BOYS WILL BE BOYS!!!!!”
See, these old fools don’t get it. We can force the CEO of a major media conglomerate out over this crap in less than a week, but we have to wait a bit before we can fire politicians. Somehow these twits will wake up on November 7th, shellshocked that cynically repeating the Anita Hill playbook failed to reap wild rewards in 2018.
Brettwurst himself published a self-pitying little editorial in the Wall Street Journal, very carefully avoiding an actual apology for his infantile, partisan, tantrum at his hearing while acknowledging that throwing an infantile, partisan, tantrum was not a good look and promising not to throw further infantile, partisan, tantrums once he gets confirmed to his lifetime appointment and elevated beyond consequences once and for all. Well, he seems like such an honest fellow, why shouldn’t we take him at his word?
A quick sidebar, this whole debacle wound up giving us possibly the Most Republican Thing Ever: Senator Steve Daines, y’see, might’ve had trouble making tomorrow’s final Kavanaugh vote, since he’s attending his daughter’s wedding. But never fear, Montana CongressJag Greg Gianforte, who is both stupid rich and a violent criminal, said, “No worries, you can borrow my private jet so you can zoom back to D.C. and entrench corporate hegemony for another few decades! Try not to bodyslam any reporters at the nuptials!”
And finally, in shittiest climax this side of of a DC comics movie, America was subjected to a monotonous, comically dishonest tirade from Susan Collins, which I can only assume is still ongoing even as you read this. She talked about how important the #MeToo movement is when it’s forcing Democratic senators to resign, but when it stands in the way of something Republicans want, then the accusers are dirty lying whores who shouldn’t be trusted.
And that website? The one that’s been raising pledged funds to finance Collins’ 2020 Dem challenger? It CRASHED today. Because October 5th, 2018 will go down in history as many, many things, chief among them Day One of Senator Susan Collins’ farewell tour. Potential challengers are already surfacing.
Woooooooooo that was some rough shit, folks. Feels like I was locked in a dryer full of sandpaper and badgers. Overnight. I’m covered in sweat and piss and shit and blood, and I’m itchin’ for a fight. I could sure use a little good news.
What’s this? The Mueller investigation is seizing a whole bunch of Precocious Paul Manafort’s property and money? Well dang if that didn’t put the spring right back in my step!
Folks, it’s been a pretty damn enraging stretch. I’m reminded of a dear, departed friend’s favorite quote:
“Don’t let the bastards grind you down.”
We lost today. Tomorrow, we win. We win BIG.
Take their power away.
Never give it back.
This Kavanaugh vote? It’s gonna end a lot of Republican careers. A LOT. That ain’t a prediction, by the way, that’s a SPOILER.
And with that, I will leave you with one last link. May you find it inspirational. Remember, the people we’re fighting are terrible, but they are also buffoons.