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.
The News: A Bunch of Shitheads Did a Bunch of Shitty Things, But BARACK’S BACK, BABY!
Goddammit, it was a short week! How was there still so much fuckery?!?! What if I wanted a nice, uninterrupted, stretch of time to unwind and devote my mental energies to something pleasant for a change? What if I wanted to watch The Wire? What if I wanted to finally start those Caro Lyndon Johnson books that’ve been gathering dust on my shelf since Borders went out of business? Fuck you, Donald Trump.
Before we get cookin’, let me push the Action Guide for the Goddamn Midterms. We’re in the heart of the fight now, and your Democratic candidates need YOUR help if we’re gonna take Congress back. It’s a fuckin’ fight, my friends. You can’t stay on the sidelines. There’s too much at stake.
So I guess the big news was that anonymous op-ed in the Failing New York Times, huh? A mysterious, high-ranking Team Treasonweasel official says he/she is part of a secret Shart House resistance movement, and that they are saving the country from Grampa Hategoober’s zaniest, evilest, impulses! They ignore orders, they slip horse tranquilizers into his Cokes, they’ve set up an entire fake phone line at the Pentagon just to divert tantrum-induced airstrike commands. In other news, Drumpfy sincerely believes that the Air Force is run by one General Hugh Jass, and that Ottawa, Canada, is a smoldering crater.
Anyhow, Strawberry Shartcake is melting down, and it’s basically the last scene of Reservoir Dogs in the Oval Office now. Littlefinger wants the Justice Department to drop everything and waterboard the staff that, um, he himself hand-picked.
I see Alex Jones and Marco Rubio bumped chests like a couple of middle school boys in the hallowed halls of the Senate, because, as I have often noted, we live in Hell. You could get buried alive under the avalanche of think pieces about the symbolic nature of this clash of two massive dipshits for the soul of the conservative movement. Ah yes. The screeching, mendacious, hate-monger versus the spineless, self-righteous, haircut. The real winner here is American Decline.
Oh, and a couple hours later, Jones and his shitty little conspiracy website got banned from Twitter until the end of time, cutting him off from his last available significant social media platform. Once the Sandy Hook families he’s terrorized for years are done bleeding him dry of every single ill-gotten dollar in court, Jones will likely be reduced to screaming about lizard people while patrons throw tomatoes at him at Renaissance Fairs, one dollar for three tries.
Polls reveal that Dorito Mussolini’s desperate campaign to discredit the Mueller investigation is failing like…well, like every other aspect of his Presidency, so he’s resorting to new tactics, frantically insisting he has “100 pictures” of the Special Counsel and former FBI Director Jolly James Comey “hugging and kissing each other.”
“Sometimes my whole intelligence briefing is just a slide show of the two of ‘em making out in the back of the theatre during a screening of the beloved Jennifer Lopez vehicle, THE BOY NEXT DOOR,” rambled the President, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth with his too-long necktie. “I have a drawing of Bob Mueller with his whole hand up Comey’s ass to the elbow. I doodle sometimes during meetings.”
A couple of Roger Stone’s associates are dealing with subpoenas from The Bobadook, and Stone has probably given up hope by now that this is all simply the set-up for an elaborate birthday party. But maybe the FBI agents will still yell “surprise” when they arrest him.
(The Stone associates in question are Randy Credico and Jerome Corsi, for the record. I had typed this into my preparatory notes as “Corsi subpoena,” not knowing autocorrect would change this to “Corgi subpoena,” which was briefly confusing when I sat down to write.)
Laura Loomer is one of those nutjob right-wing internet celebrities; she’s famous mostly for disrupting a play like a jackass, because…she’s a jackass. Anyhow, she tried her shtick in Congress this week, the latest attempt to fill the deep dark hole that opened in her shriveled, misshapen, soul when she lost her blue checkmark. Loomer’s never needed any help making a fool of herself, but when she DOES get an assist, like she got from Congressman Billy Long, the results are..exquisite.
Rapey Roy Moore is suing Sacha Baron Cohen for…making Roy Moore look like a pervy old clown. Hmmm. If he’s successful, Judge Pedo would likely spend the rest of his days suing himself over and over again on the same grounds.
Seems New Jersey Republican Senate candidate Bob Hugin jacked up the prices on a cancer drug his company owns…for Americans anyway, while simultaneously lowering them in Russia, and…are you fucking kidding me? Is this fucking real? Or are we in the Matrix, and Aaron Sorkin just quit and the replacement writers are trying to continue the storylines, but they totally lack subtlety?
Duncan Hunter has long opposed marriage equality on the grounds that “marriage is a vitally important and sacred institution.” Not so sacred that he wouldn’t illegally spend campaign cash on multiple mistresses, though. Marriage, while super-duper sacred, also does not seem to be quite sacred enough to prevent Duncan from throwing his sacred wife under the most sacred bus available at the first sign of trouble. Sacredly, of course.
The Kavanaugh confirmation hearings are going really well, except for the part where the nominee is repeatedly revealed as a dishonest partisan hack who has no business judging a Who Grew the Biggest Gourd in Kentucky competition, let alone sitting on the Supreme Sheepfucking Court for the rest of his life.
Nice to see Senate Dems gettin’ all scrappy though, wasn’t it? My favorite part was when Cory Booker stood on his desk, took off his shirt, and shouted, “Come at me, bro!” at Chuck Grassley. Honestly, I don’t care if Booker IS putting on a show ahead of a 2020 run, he and Mazie Hirono are doing heroic work, releasing documents to the American people that the Republicans on the committee have tried to keep hidden.
So yeah, I guess Bratty Brett perjured himself before Congress a time or two. Received some stolen documents. Lied about it. Misrepresented his position on Roe v. Wade being settled law, which is REALLY gonna inconvenience Susan Collins, who’s got all kinds of logical gymnastics to pull off now in order to pretend she doesn’t understand what her vote will do to women’s rights in this country. He seems to be a less-than-casual fan of civil rights. But honestly, does all that mean he shouldn’t be allowed to sit on the highest court in the land and shape American law for the rest of his life?
I mean, FUCK YES IT DOES, but try telling that to the criminal cabal we call the Senate GOP Caucus.
…you could totally tell Kavanaugh was fartin’ up the hearing room the whole time, too. Jerk.
Rudy Giuliani now claims his Doddering Dotard client will not answer any questions about obstruction of justice, in person or in writing, no way, no how. He will not answer in a note, he will not answer on a boat. He will not answer on a beach, he will not answer when his traitorous ass finally finally FINALLY gets impeached. And then maybe he “backtracked.” Can we all be honest enough to admit Rudy is an addled old man who doesn’t understand what he’s saying?
I see we’ve arrived at the Switching Out Insufficiently Enthusiastic Audience Members portion of the Shitty Real Life Orwell Theatre production we’re all trapped in. Also the Trumpkin Literally Wipes Her Nose with the American Flag portion, it seems. Straight Dime Store Stalin shit.
And Little Georgie Papaderpaderp was sentenced today, to two weeks in prison, a year of supervised release, and permanent exile from Jeff Sessions’ Xmas card list. He also has to do 200 hours of community service, which I’d like to suggest could be filled by working up a stand-up routine based around his insider knowledge of Stephen Miller’s porn history.
Th’Paper of Record felt compelled to publish an entire article debunking the American President’s assertion that he doesn’t use certain slurs, or demean southerners in general, often both at the same time. I’m sure Shart-O the Clown’s southern base will learn of his lifetime of derisive dismissal of them and…shout Lock Her Up some more. Hell. We live in HELL.
Now I can joke about living in Hell, but it’s the actual fucking reality for the hundreds of immigrant children our shitsack government continue to detain. And now the monsters are trying to weasel around the laws that keep them from jailing kids indefinitely. This Parade of Rectal Tumors has more or less given up on bringing manufacturing jobs back to the Rust Belt, but kids in cages? That one they’ll fight for, tooth and inadequately-short claw.
Oh hey! That Barack Obama guy came back! I missed him. I missed decency and honesty and…grammar. Anyway, the opening salvo of his return to politics on the midterms campaign trail was a doozy. It was tougher than I was expecting. It feels like another turning point on the road to taking our country back. Good.
And I’m glad to have Obama back in the fight. But if you take only one thing he said today (or ever, for that matter) to heart, let it be this: “You cannot sit back and wait for a savior.”
Damn right, Mr. President.
You’re the savior. YOU. You reading this right now. Your country needs you. You up to it?
You better be. You need to be.