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.
This Week in Hell: Donald Trump, Lindsey Graham, and Other Diseased Rats
God, we’re so close. We’ve known all along it would get worse at the end, as this human skidmark lashes out with all his might, backed by the terrifying power of the American Presidency. We knew it would suck, and HOLY BALLS IT SUCKS SO VERY, VERY HARD, but I think I got over the hump today. Just now, actually. I can see the finish line. I can make it through the home stretch. COME AT ME, NEWS, I can fuckin’ take ya, is what I’m saying.
So, let’s be honest. The President of the United States, already a stupid, craven, venal twerp, warped by hatred and debilitated by his own narcissism, has finally, from a combination of age, stress, illness, fear of prison, and the mingling of god knows what drugs prescribed at Walter Reed with whatever black market cocktail he’s gobbling out of the medicine cabinet back home, lost his motherfucking mind.
I mean, I got to the same place, sanity-wise, without the benefit of experimental medication, just by keeping up with all this garbage, but whatever.
Rod Rosenstein has been walking this ethical tightrope in the public eye for what feels like forever, and, uh, yeah, that was all for nothing, bro. Turns out Rowdy Roddy teamed up with his old boss, Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions, to orchestrate and implement one of the greatest evils of the Turd Reich, the child separation policy. All those self-righteous contortions, and you’re just one more monster among monsters in the end. This is your place in the history books, Rod. You earned it.
Redactor General William Barr quietly, insidiously rolled back long-standing Justice Department policies that prohibit prosecutors from interfering in elections, so if any enterprising young fascist feels like screaming HUNTER BIDEN KILLED CHRIST in a bid for a spot commanding a concentration camp of your very own in the new world to come, well, understand your dirtbag boss isn’t likely to get less desperate as the walls close in.
There’s no Comey letter in your quiver this time, Billy Boy. I’ve seen the inside of your quiver, you’re down to rat turds and one Oliver Queen-style boxing glove. You made your choices. You had your fun. The party’s over and the law is at the door. Sucks to be you.
In a skeevy moment of offhanded weaselry that perfectly captured the pure, unfettered, shitty rich kidness of the man, President Gas Station Urinal Cake actually tried to blame his coronavirus infection on a visiting group of Gold Star families, I guess because he was worried the electorate didn’t fully understand what a revolting little punk he is. A cursory look at the timeline reveals the transmission threat almost certainly flowed in the other direction; a perfect, maggot-gnawed maraschino cherry for this particular turd sundae.
Well, Mike Pants entered the Vice Presidential debate tasked with achieving what a billion wasted dollars couldn’t: making a case for the re-election of his homicidally incompetent administration that wouldn’t make the American people laugh derisively/roll their eyes/run him out of town on a rail. He left the subject of derision and memes after being upstaged by a fly that briefly considered taking up permanent residence in his demonic scalp, before ultimately flying away, unable to bear the stench.
I mean, Kamala was always gonna kick Mikey Hairshirt’s theocrat ass, but I confess I don’t understand why a campaign looking down the business end of a historic gender gap figured a droning old white dude talking over two women for 90 minutes would pull them out of the cartoon quicksand pit they’ve all but disappeared into.
Let’s explore the week’s events with a little cause n’ effect, shall we? Because Donald Trump was too stupid to take simple precautions, he caught COVID-19. Because he caught COVID-19, the Commission on Presidential Debates decided the second debate couldn’t be held in person, on account of the President’s COMMUNICABLE DISEASE. Because Typhoid Donnie is a blowhard and a coward, he backed out of that debate. Because this is not Joe Biden’s first rodeo, he said “Well, you enjoy yourself at home, Second Place, I’ll just do a prime time town hall without you.” And now Wee Don has lost access to one of the two largest remaining audiences available to his flailing campaign as the pages of calendar turn. Any questions?
Getting back to that futile billion for a minute, though the campaign coffers are now so bare that the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus has pulled ads from must-win swing states (though I imagine Shitty Evita’s checks still arrive on time), Gameshow Göring has discovered a brand-new source of funding: YOUR POCKET! Yes, the very same executive branch that STILL refuses to take the simple steps necessary to contain the coronavirus outbreak, like implementing a national testing strategy for example, is working overtime to get their pathetic $200 bribe for seniors out the door.
Now, who’s on the hook for this SEVEN BILLION DOLLAR donation to the Trump campaign? Why you and me, of course, the dumb cuck American taxpayer! Needless to say, this won’t work any better than that time he tried to sneak his shitty little signature onto the initial stimulus checks…a lousy $200 payoff for the entirety of 20frickin’20? That’s like a nickel per atrocity, fuck you.
They say life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans, and if you don’t believe me, just ask the members of the Trump-inspired white nationalist terror cell who currently find themselves behind bars rather than working out the finer points of their plot to kidnap and execute Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer.
Now, I acknowledge we live in times of unprecedented division, but surely we can still muster a grudging bipartisan handshake over a statement as non-controversial as “terrorism is bad,” right? It’s not like we’re some third-world shithole where increasingly violent religious sects openly fund child soldiers who murder their perceived political foes or anything, RIGHT?
Like, I don’t if you’ve been paying attention, but ever since Weehands McNodick took his Pokémon Go game to Lafayette Square and said, “I choose YOU, fascist crackdown!” things have changed, and he’s not hiding his despotic impulses anymore. So yeah, not only did he refuse to condemn these would-be murderers, he actually attacked Whitmer, going so far as to approvingly parrot the terrorists’ point of view. If anything, he’s pissed off that there’re thirteen fewer thugs available to “stand back and stand by” for his inevitable call to violence.
On the white-collar side of the white nationalist crime syndicate that is the Trump/McConnell Republican Party, fundraiser Elliott Broidy is America’s Next Top Felon, anyway, I believe we were having a discussion about who the “law and order” candidate is?
Now, I don’t think Mike Lee gets the same top-shelf shit his Turd Emperor has access to at Walter Reed, but let me just say that if the COVID-infected Utah Senator’s casual anti-Democratic musings are not, in fact, the result of ingesting hallucinogens, then he goes on the Never For One Second Take Your Eyes Off These Fascist Jags list with Tom Cotton and Josh Hawley.
The Shart House Covid outbreak has gotten so severe that Mitch McConnell said he’d rather obey the will of the American public than visit Donald Trump’s Plague Pit at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It sure is fun that folks are afraid to set foot near the People’s House because doing so puts you at extremely high risk of a lonely, painful death. I mean, I dunno if anybody is still looking for blindingly obvious symbolism, but it’s here if you want it.
Though the Manchurian Manchild remained too ill to appear live on camera this week (Did you think we wouldn’t notice? We noticed.) his presence remained as oppressively inescapable as ever, as manifested by a never-ending deluge of batshit tweets and a series of deranged phone-in interviews with all of his favorite safe spaces: Fux, Hannity, Limbaugh…there’s neither time nor room to document all the raw lunacy that dropped, turd-like, from Fat Q*bert pinched sphincter mouth during these mad little chats, and I have too much respect for you to poison your mind with inane Chris Cillizza (but I repeat myself) listicles, but among other drooling nonsense, he seems intent on resurrecting his debunked “Obamagate” conspiracy theory, which won’t win him any votes, but hey, it’ll keep Ron Johnson busy.
Oh, and of course he isn’t shy about proclaiming himself Cured of Coronavirus and Functionally Immortal, Prolly, deceitfully promising to order the U.S. military to deliver his unproven, experimental, million-dollar miracle cure to the American people free of charge. The pestilential creep actually tried to get back on the campaign trail, promising rallies during what even the Ronny Jacksons and Sean Conleys of the world would admit is still within the What Part of “Extremely Contagious” is Giving You Trouble, Bro? period of his illness.
Turmoil in Shartopia as President Crotchrot lashes out at the underlings who never quite managed to turn the USA into the police state of his dreams. Bilious Bill earned a special blast of Adderall-infused ire when he announced the findings of his bullshit investigation into the origins of the Russia probe will not, in fact, deliver the Wikileaks reunion tour Government Cheese Goebbels so desperately needs. Did you expect loyalty, William, for being such an enthusiastic henchmen? Bless your fascist heart.
Y’know, I was starting to get pretty confident, almost cocky, about our chances on November 3rd, but then I saw Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo announce he’s gettin’ ready to release a fresh trove of HILLARY’S E-MAILS, and hey, democracy had a good run, but they’ve outplayed us fair and square. It looked like it was gonna be a coronavirus election there for a minute, but how can nine months of entirely avoidable mayhem and suffering and death hope to compete with Hillary Clinton’s godforsaken e-mails?
Ummmm…what else? The Failing New York Times uncovered yet another massive Trump financial crime, and while that kinda stuff has trouble breaking through in these days of stochastic terrorism and steroid-fueled mental breakdowns, to me, this is just one more indicator that Strawberry Shartcake’s post-presidency will be spent in courtrooms and prison cells, watching his ill-gotten fortune get whittled away to nothing by lawsuit after lawsuit, until he dies, destitute and despised, with even Steve Bannon refusing to return his texts.
I see Lindsey Graham tried to back out of his debate with Jaime Harrison rather than take a coronavirus test, because while he has absolutely, 100% been exposed to contagious carriers, he would rather risk the lives of everyone around him than endanger his party’s shitbag ploy to steal one last Supreme Court seat before everybody gets (justly) fired. That thing about power corrupting? I dunno who came up with that, but I think they’re onto something.
Well, that wasn’t so bad. See that, you Nazi fucks? Four years you’ve been flooding the zone with a tidal wave of shit, hoping to wear us down. Well, we haven’t worn down, motherfuckers. We got through it. We got through the four years, we got through the Category 7 shitstorm of the last two weeks, and we’ll get through whatever you throw at us over the next 24 days. You’re finished.
Hey, there’s still time to check out the Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide, where you can donate to our great House and Senate candidates. And yes, the Kickstarter for my next comic book, MINE, is up n’ running as well! I’ll promote ‘em both harder next week when I’m not so fucking exhausted. Stay safe out there, Resisters.