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.
Losing Just Hurts More From Behind a Comically Small Desk
Well, I trust everyone enjoyed their long holiday weekend, and gave thanks for the extremely amusing ongoing downfall of one Donald John Trump, until recently the President of the United States, now merely an aesthetically displeasing perpetual motion losing machine.
I confess I didn’t follow every single election certification or humiliating court defeat, but the Seriously How Can One Man Lose This Much Show was a constant background presence, like the cheerily bland sitcom you keep on while you fold laundry or fiddle with your fantasy water polo team. Critics say it’s repetitive, but sometimes you just want fan service and comfort food, and what can I say, I like watching fascists step on rakes. Plus, whoever it is that’s playing Rudy Giuliani is phenomenal; doin’ some real Nic-Cage-meets-Lon-Chaney shit.
And you gotta love how Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops gets his hopes up every time Sidney Powell claims a talking salamander told her the voting machines in Pennsylvania were possessed by Vince Foster’s ghost or whatever. He truly expects this gibbering lunacy to hold up in court. His walnut brain can’t comprehend what’s happening to him; “I spend my father’s money until I get what I want” has been the universal truth of his entire skidmark life, y’see.
And so he kicks and screams and shits himself, and, because this is Hell, this doddering old bigot’s barely-coherent meltdowns are received as if from on high by his assclown acolytes, replacing reality with rage, consequences for American democracy be damned. Hell, he even found a handful of Pennsylvania state legislators willing to assist him in his attempted coup, which is kinda disappointing; ideally you’d like that number to be zero, I think.
There’s still plenty of last-minute fuckery to be perpetrated by the Turd Reich before Dad gets home, including a plan to Make Executions Medieval Again, because of course there’s some drooling wannabe supervillain in this buffet of assholes that wants to bring firing squads back. You sort of expect Stephen Miller to try to steal the physical Bill of Rights on the way out the door, just in case that works.
Well, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot did indeed pardon Mike “The Turkish Delight” Flynn, because honestly, is betraying your country really a crime if you hate Barack Obama a whole bunch? Now Rudy wants one, too (might need a couple; one for treason, one for Borat), so I hope you brought enough for everyone, Dotard.
The new Amy Coney Barrett-infused wingnut SCOTUS majority wasted little time flexing their meathead muscle, ruling that the death cult they serve has the right to spread plague in the name of religious liberty, which is insane in no small way. You read Gorsuch’s smug harangue, and you realize that A) the man lacks even a layman’s understanding of how the coronavirus spreads, and B) he feels not the slightest obligation to educate himself before wielding the awesome power of his office, and thus, Neil n’ Friendz merrily ruled in favor of the goddamn disease, against the American public, without a second thought. Not bangarang.
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has decided to cancel the Best Production Design category this year, to spare the nominees the shame of comparison to the genius who set up that wee Fisher-Price table for Gameshow Göring’s Thanksgiving conniption.
And of course, the Georgia Senate runoffs are still ground zero for Death Stage Trumpism’s malignant mutation, with the Manchurian Manchild’s fascist shitfit hampering the state GOP’s GOTV efforts, because why pry yourself away from the soothing ragedrone of the All-New, All-Batshit Newsmax/OANN media bubble long to cast a vote in an election that’s already been rigged by Dead Hugo Chavez’s Deep State Cabal and Jug Band?
We’ve got a bunch of stories about Republicans in Georgia to get through tonight, and it’s basically A Child’s Treasury of Folks Who’ve Refused to Learn the Lessons of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein Even Though It’s Readily Commercially Available For Real There Are Even Several Movies.
Take for example, Ronna Can-I-Be-a-Romney-Again-Now-That-We’re-Fired McDaniel, frantically attempting to herd the hallucinating horde back towards the real world and the election that’s about to take place there, even as they petulantly demand a fresh pitcher of griffin piss to gargle. You’re not in control here, Ronna. You never were.
It must be said, even after a particularly nasty primary, no one can accuse Twitching Hatemarmot Doug Collins of being a poor team player, though in fairness, he seems delighted simply to have a platform to smear Martin Luther King Jr.’s church as “the bed of Hell.”
Of course, any party member refusing to screech as enthusiastically as Collins during the Two Minutes Hate is likely to become the next target of it. Just ask Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, who has received numerous death threats, with bonus threats of sexual violence targeting his wife, from this profoundly “Christian” movement, simply for doing his job and upholding the law.
Or ask Brian Kemp, who went to all the trouble of stealing the state’s governorship on behalf of his party, only to be brutally excommunicated for refusing to reach beyond the powers of his office to make the results of the election magically vanish like a mistress’ pregnancy.
Shit, by the end of the day, you had Republican Georgia election officials begging the President of the United States to stop inciting violence against them and their families. Devotees of the Frankenstein genre will note that the monster is generally disinclined, at this stage of his rampage, to heed either reason or calls for mercy.
Meanwhile, the more we learn about David Perdue and Kelly Loeffler, the more they look like such broad caricatures of the “corrupt politician” that they’d come off campy in Doris freakin’ Day movie, and it’s frankly sorta nuts that either one would get a single vote.
Joe diGenova, the attorney for the Turdmaggot Campaign who handles the tasks that don’t involve self-immolating in front of dildo shops, casually suggested the only just reward for Christopher Krebs’ treacherous adherence to objective reality is, naturally, a grisly, Inquisition-style public execution. While I understand kakistocracy is the hip new craze sweeping through MAGA nation quicker than Diet Cherry Meth, may I suggest we resist normalizing the political violence fantasies of the shittiest among us?
Speaking of the shittiest among us, boy, Scotty Atlas really jumped ahead in the rankings for this year’s White Privilege Cup, didn’t he? After a brief but gruesomely “successful” tenure as Fat Q*bert’s herd immunity whisperer, he now departs the Shart House for greener pastures, empty head held high over a body count that’s the envy of every hostile force that ever took up arms against the United States. Dude’s career going forward should be just two quick steps: from here to the catapult and from the catapult straight into the fucking sun.
I see the Hairplug That Ate Decency somehow squeezed another $170 million out of the Legion of Dumb, just since the election, because while he’s catastrophically awful at things like managing economies and responding to pandemics, he’s Michelangelo wrapped in Michael Jordan when it comes to monetizing the resentment of the white and subpar.
And now even Bilious Bill Barr admits he lacks the power to redact reality enough to grant his Turd Emperor a second term. You don’t need me to tell you that it took all of nine minutes for the mob to turn, in full fury, on Barr, far and away Trump’s most dangerously effective servant before today, and seriously, any of y’all could’ve picked up a paperback copy of Frankenstein for like, five bucks, any time you wanted to.
Couldn’t give us one goddamn weekend for turkey and football, even in defeat, couldja, ya unbelievable fucks? I see while I was writing tonight, Pardonamania ran truly wild, and I’ll get to that next time; for now, I need to visit the fridge for a round of leftover holiday beer. Stay safe out there, friends.