I almost hesitate to yank away the warm, fuzzy blanket of Biden-y normalcy, but shit remains deeply cray. In fact, we’re witnessing a disturbing number of (admittedly weak-minded) public officials carefully, deliberately choosing the crayest available options from a buffet well-stocked with sane alternatives, and while I appreciate that cult deprogramming is difficult, just…just give us a fuckin’ break, man.

About nineteen seconds after I got last week’s post up, news broke of YET ANOTHER criminal attempt by then-President Gas Station Urinal Cake to overturn the 2020 election and seize power as a dictator. This one involved some cut-rate DoJ stooge bureaucrat* called Jeffrey Clark, and his Gohmertian plot to end American democracy using some idiotic, made-up procedural trick. Like so much of the news from the Transition Period That Would Not Motherfucking Die, that story read like an episode of the West Wing scripted by Tom Clancy with a railroad spike through his brain.

You read this crap, and you realize this shitty little Clark twerp got it into his head that HE was going to be the one to deliver the nation to Donald Trump on a plate, and the new Führer would be grateful, and appoint him Minister of Justice for the entire Thousand Year Reich, and folks, THIS is how it happens here. Because skidmark-souled men like Jeffrey Clark and Mark Meadows and Matt Gaetz and Gym Jordan will happily enable the Turd Emperor’s every crime in exchange for the crumbs of power that dribble from his sphincter-like mouth.

Now, given recent events, you would think the GOP would practically strut down this gift-wrapped, candy-coated, lovingly-dipped-in-nectar-and-ambrosia off-ramp that appeared magically before them. Honestly, it seemed unfair to me, that, having milked that pissant proto-fascist for three Supreme Court justices and a massive tax cut for their oligarch masters, the Republican Party was gifted such a perfect opportunity to wash their hands of him forever. He committed an act of unforgivable treason. They were free to walk away, squeaky clean, righteously indignant even.

But I guess when the moment actually comes, and you’re staring in disbelief at the thrift shop clerk who isn’t willing to go above a buck fifty for your sweaty, mayonnaise-stained death cult robes, it’s hard to let go. Sure, you lost both houses of Congress and the White House, and transformed into an authentic 21st century American Nazi in the process, but remember that summer you spent chanting “lock her up” alongside your fellow rage-warped white mediocrities? It was like Grease, only with less singing and also everybody was a racist loser.

So instead of letting the fever break, the Texas state Republican Party incorporated a QAnon slogan into their official branding. The Hawaiian sub-sect of Cult45 elevated a “comicsgate” creep to the position of vice chairman, only to be caught off guard somehow when he used official party social media accounts to pimp Q trash. In Arizona, Kelli Ward’s band of turd-gargling maniacs censured Cindy McCain, Jeff Flake, and Governor Doug Ducey for the high crime of refusing to help overthrow the United States government for a totalitarian game show host.

Unwilling to be out-crazied, the Oregon GOP proclaimed, via barely-legible feces smears on their meth dealer’s living room wall, that the Capitol riot was a “false flag” operation, designed to make Hairplug Himmler and his Legion of Losers look bad, as though any assistance is required on that particular front.

I suppose it shouldn’t surprise anyone that a party/cult/malodorous wad of freaks so devoted to enshrining bullshit as gospel would also require a few false idols to worship, and Tom Cotton and Madison Cawthorn certainly haven’t been shy about stealing whatever valor is necessary to hoover up the slavering throng’s deranged adulation.

Speaking of MAGA nation’s deplorable role models, child soldier Kyle Rittenhouse has been banned from associating with white supremacists, because even after murdering two human beings, he’s out on bail, partying with white supremacists, yet another perfectly reasonable decision rendered by our not-at-all racist justice system.

I see the vanquished Velveeta Vulgarian briefly toyed with the idea of starting a third party, a No Willards Allowed death cult of his very own, but then he remembered that half the jurors in his pending impeachment trial are members of the party he was attempting to threaten. (The threats will resume promptly after acquittal, of course, but I think we can throw in the towel on the GOP learning that lesson by now.)

Marm-a-Lago is reportedly hemorrhaging members, by the way, because I guess the atmosphere around a toppled tyrant isn’t exactly festive. Yeah, I’m told Eva Braun’s attempts to spruce up the ol’ bunker ultimately went unappreciated, too.

Ted Cruz naturally wants to change the subject from the bloodthirsty white supremacist mob he incited, so he instigated a “Twitter feud” with affable film personality Seth Rogen, sliding effortlessly from agitating for the violent overthrow of the federal government to the mewling victimhood that defines his increasingly embarrassing “brand.” Like, we know Ted aspires to higher office, but seriously, what is his plan to make the public forget that he is literally the most pathetic, bottom-feeding weasel in American politics? Hypnotism?

Look out, Arkansas, Sarah Huckleberry Slanders is back, and she’s bringing her dimestore autocrat incompetence to YOUR Governor’s Mansion! I don’t know what to even say; the contract between a Trumpist politician and their voters runs a little something like, “I will enrich myself while exacerbating every problem that lands on my desk, but in exchange for the measurable decline in your quality of life, I will lie to your face about who’s to blame, allowing you to bury your head in the sweet, soothing sand of resentment,” and honestly, the base seems more than happy with these terms.

So, Rudy Giuliani is apparently getting sued for not only every dime he’s worth, but everything he possesses of any value, down to those precious memories of backseat incest from his bygone youth, back when he could scarcely dream he’d someday wind up as the single slimiest colon polyp in a cancerous fascist invasion of American democracy.

Since the American right refuses to self-regulate, I feel like these Dominion lawsuits might be our best shot at seeing actual consequences for the, y’know, the months-long disinformation campaign that culminated in an armed coup attempt. The Senate somehow lacks the courage to convict Government Cheese Goebbels for whipping up a lynch mob to murder his enemies, but should a precious Corporate Entity become collateral damage to the terrorist fallout of your Big Lie, all mercy will be denied ye.

I’m not saying it’s a good system, I’m saying I want to see Rudy squeezed like a zit, and I’m willing to subscribe to any streaming service that can deliver that shit.

Mitch McConnell finally consented to allow Democrats to run the Senate they won, though I’m sure he still follows the new Majority Leader around all day like a lost puppy, threatening to filibuster Schumer’s second slice of pie or some shit. Chuck earned that pie, Buster, by skipping straight to reconciliation for the big Biden coronavirus stimulus bill. Fool us once, shame on us, won’t get fooled again, fuck you, Yertle, stand in the corner and whine while we help the people you failed, eat shit forever.

Forty-five Republican Senators voted to give themselves a Get Out of This Vote I Don’t Want to Explain to the Electorate Back Home Free card, cuz impeaching a former President is…unconstitutional, yeah, that’s the ticket, everybody knows the founding fathers envisioned the lame duck period as a time when the outgoing incumbent, as a reward for his service, is formally elevated above any and all laws, free to hunt serfs for sport should he so choose. As a treat.

The state of Oklahoma is, hilariously, attempting to return the hydroxychloroquine stockpile they foolishly dropped a couple million bucks on last year. There should be punishment for buying two million dollars’ worth of hydroxychloroquine on Donald Trump’s advice, if only that you’re stuck with two million dollars’ worth of hydroxychloroquine instead of two million dollars. I’m told the Oklahoma attorney general is also kicking himself for throwing out the receipt for those sixty thousand bottles of bleach he bought from Target.

In many ways, this was Marjorie Taylor Greene Week, because it seemed like you couldn’t refresh your feed without discovering some shocking new depth to that loon’s seemingly limitless reservoir of awful behavior. The Vainglorious MTG is a slur-spewing, school-shooting-survivor-harassing wonder of science: with the intellectual capacity of Tommy Tuberville, the casual bigotry of Steve King, and her own unique strain of whatever fungus has been chewing on Alex Jones’ brain, she’s some sort of hideously sewn-together hybrid Republican, and she clearly misinterpreted the old Jews in Space bit as a rather ominous threat.

Ok, the preceding overstuffed paragraph contains Thursday’s Marjorie Taylor Greene news. Take a deep breath, use the restroom, maybe make yourself a snack, because we’re about to move on to Friday’s Marjorie Taylor Greene news.

Like the part where she unleashed so much maskless spittle on a Democratic colleague during a hallway confrontation that Congresswoman Cori Bush has been forced to relocate her office to protect her staff. Or the video Mother Jones unearthed, of MTG calling for terrorist violence (I know, I know, throw it on the pile). Or her demented quest to force Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib to re-take their congressional oaths on Christian bibles, based on one of her many delusions.

Congratulations, Minority Leader McCarthy: this insane Nazi lady is the face of your caucus. Oh. Excuse me, sir, I didn’t mean to disturb you…I just figured since Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot fled Washington in defeat and disgrace, there would no longer be any need for you to orally polish his hemorrhoids, let alone fly all the way to Florida for the opportunity, but…I suppose after four years, you must get to like it down there. Apparently.

See, that’s why it’s REALLY Marjorie Taylor Greene Week, because the institutional Republican Party has gazed upon the roaring-blaze-in-the-dumpster-behind-Mengele’s-place their party has become, and decided, “we should probably put that fire out, sure, but look at how prettily it burns!”

Screw Reagan, skullfuck that race traitor cuck Lincoln, hell, there isn’t room for LIZ FREAKING CHENEY in this tent anymore, non-bathsalt-guzzlers need not apply! To pass the time as I worry about what all this means for the future of my beloved country, I plan on working up a slasher flick pitch where Mitt Romney and Lisa Murkowski have to escape a Panhandle fundraiser for Matt Gaetz, when the donors go savagely insane after ingesting generic Russian meth from the open bar.

But Joe Biden wore a Rolex to his inauguration and he owns a piece of home exercise equipment, so y’know, America’s two political parties exist in a state of perfect ChuckToddian equivalence.

SOME WEEK, HUH? And that’s not even factoring in the stock market madness. But yeah, I think we’re gonna try this once-a-week schedule for now, folks. Might pop up with an extra entry now and then, if the poonami suddenly surges, but we’ll see. Stay safe out there, friends. May your future contain vaccines and adult beverages.

*Or is it “bureaucrat stooge?” I defer to the experts.