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
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.
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.
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.
Why Are You Even Reading This, Instead of Dying For the Economy?
When we tell the stories of these batguano-coated days to our grandchildren, the sudden appearance of murder hornets is when they’re gonna roll their eyes and tell us we’re full of shit. Fuck ‘em. They weren’t there. We had to live through all this crap:
Many have pointed out that President Crotchvoid seldom expresses sympathy for the tens of thousands of American victims of the COVID-19/Golfin’ Thru February Team-up, but boy howdy he sure was delighted to see his murderous chum Kim Jong-un up and about after a rumored secret demise. If social distancing ends before the Shart’s much-anticipated firing, expect him to invite his lil’ buddy over to pose for a brand-new challenge coin, embracing tightly atop Otto Warmbier’s grave.
Crews are working around the clock, blast-cleaning the Lincoln Memorial in hopes of removing the stench of authoritarian propaganda, experimental hair tonic, and overcooked steak farts that persistently lingers following Tangerine Idi Amin’s sad little Fux Nooz “town hall” staged right at Honest Abe’s disapproving feet. Addressing a fearful nation amidst a crisis with no end in sight, the doddering old jackass whined that Lincoln had it good compared to poor, put-upon, Donald J. Trump (the J stands for Jeez, I Wish Somebody WOULD Treat Him Worse Than Lincoln JUST KIDDING, SECRET SERVICE), because accountability = assassination when you’re a narcissistic talking scrotum tumor.
Speaking of Lincoln, guess who’s under Orange Julius Caesar’s skin (having burrowed through half an inch’s worth of congealed spray-tan lotion to get there, ew) today? A conglomeration of Never-Trump Republicans calling themselves the Lincoln Project, that’s who! Their brutal new ad “Mourning in America,” (GET IT?) prompted a presidential meltdown the likes of which we haven’t seen since…well, since he told us all to chug Lysol a few days ago; times are strange. Anyway, it seems Dr. Dotard understands the Streisand Effect about as well as he does international trade, or the mysterious mechanics of the wily umbrella.
Possibly the single most ‘Murican thing ever occurred in Michigan, when a lady didn’t like it when a security guard at the Family Dollar said her daughter needed to wear a mask, and so she went home to fetch her family, who proceeded to shoot the guard to death. Fuck, that’s awful. Also it’s a perfect, bloody, metaphor for the way the deranged selfishness of a rage-filled minority with demented ideas about “freedom” is getting the rest of us killed.
The Turdmaggot Administration has banned Dr. Anthony Fauci and the other members of the coronavirus task force from testifying before the House, because they really think they can hide 70,000+ corpses under the rug in the guest room. Honestly, you almost can’t blame them for pursuing the Lie Until the Problem Goes Away strategy that’s served them so well these past three years, but this is getting embarrassing. Watching Jar-Jar assure us this whole COVID-19 thing is as good as whipped is like watching two fifth-graders in a trench coat trying to buy tickets for a Tarantino movie. (Incidentally, Kid Nepotism’s crappy hair metal cover band, Jared Kushner and the Inexperienced Volunteers, will be opening at Klan rallies ‘round the country, sooner than is probably safe!)
Operation: Coronavirus? What Coronavirus? continues on other fronts as well, with a giddy new stooge nominated to take over the principal deputy inspector general post at Health and Human Services from Christi A. Grimm, who mistakenly believed her job was to inform the American people of the truth about Sharty McFly’s failures rather than covering them up with scratch-n-sniff stickers. We’re about a week away from Eric n’ Junior breaking into hospitals to scrawl NUH-UH in crayon on all the death certificates.
Meanwhile, leaked documents reveal the Why Won’t Those Expendable Serfs Leave Me Alone to Golf in Peace Administration’s own models project 3,000 coronavirus deaths daily by June, on account of the whole “suicidal reopening of the economy” thing. The good news is, these clowns have found an alternate model that believes all deaths will magically stop by the end of next week, based on the world-renowned Just Making Shit Up school of epidemiology.
Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo says he has just oodles and oodles of proof that the coronavirus was concocted in a Chinese laboratory as part of a failed attempt to duplicate McDonald’s secret Big Mac sauce, only you can’t see the proof because he left it at his girlfriend’s house, you wouldn’t know her, she goes to another school and her parents are real strict so she isn’t allowed out much. Naturally, every other intelligence agency in the world disputes this, but hey, if we’ve got to destabilize the global order to keep the same 25% of the American electorate perpetually inflamed with racist hatred, so be it.
Meanwhile the Shart Administration keeps skipping international meetings to coordinate the global response to the pandemic, because it’s America’s turn to bring snacks, and Donnie Two-Scoops remains a cheapskate at heart. Also because he’d rather maintain his asinine Pin the Blame on the World Health Organization posturing than actually find a vaccine or a cure for this little bastard. Fuck, y’all, just once, ONCE during this shitshow, I would like the President to do something in the interest of the United States and her citizenry. Leave us a little mint on the pillow, SOMETHING.
Well, the GOP’s 2020 campaign strategy is coming into focus, and I confess, I’m curious to see how DIE FOR OUR DONORS looks on a shitty red ballcap. See, Republicans are tired of all you filthy takers, thinking your lives “have value” or “mean something.” You disposable peons are failing in your duties as profit centers for the über-wealthy! You’re not out there working for barely-livable wages, you’re not buying shit, and now you’re saying you deserve bailouts more than our precious corporations? Hell to tha no, peasants! Like they say in The Shawshank Redemption, “Get busy dying!”
Yes, failing to understand that the sole reason they haven’t been dragged into the street by angry mobs is that our side is too smart to gather in crowds right now, the Republican Party has decided to lean into their Turd Emperor’s catastrophic failures, embracing a controversial I Mean Yeah There Are Things We Could Do To Save Lives, But They’re Hard And We Don’t Wanna strategy to “fighting” the coronavirus. Chris Christie, for example, demands Americans accept massive numbers of non-Chris Christie deaths. And Hairplug Himmler himself, a man who is afraid of stairs, tells us we need to be “warriors,” willing to lay down our lives that he may be reelected, and enjoy the sweet, sweet, legal immunity of his office for four more years.
…it ain’t exactly the St. Crispin’s Day speech, y’know? No, like the overwhelming majority of Americans, I do believe I shall remain snug in my thoroughly-disinfected apartment for the time being, thank you very much.
For his Senate confirmation hearing as DNI, Rabid Froth Fountain John Ratcliffe cosplayed a normal human being and promised he’d be a very good boy and not at all a willing accomplice in Dorito Mussolini’s ongoing quest to decimate American democracy for personal profit. (I was particularly impressed that John-John got through the whole session without flinging a single fistful of his own poo at the wall; as his previous performances on the other side of congressional hearings demonstrate, such restraint is difficult for him.) You creeps can’t fool us with this shit; we remember William Barr. One day he’s all, “the rule of law is super rad and I am all for it!” but once he’s in office, it’s more, “the Constitution clearly states that we’re allowed to imprison migrant children in your basement if you voted for Hillary.”
Anyway, fantastic news broke while I was drafting this piece: the coronavirus is winding down! Man, I can’t wait to go to restaurants and movie theatres and clown orgies and coffee sh-hang on, I think I may’ve read that wrong. Yes. I see my mistake. It’s the coronavirus TASK FORCE that’s winding down. The one operating out of the White House. Like, the official government response team. To the pandemic. Um.
Full disclosure, I have no government experience, I lost the only election I ever stood for*, but this seems kinda like throwing the parachutes out the window two minutes after the plane runs out of fuel, like getting your foot caught in a bear trap and gnawing off your hands, like some third thing I’m too drunk to come up with right now. Basically it’s really fucking stupid, is my point.
Fuck. And people wonder why I drink. I mean, people don’t actually wonder why I drink, I was just trying to transition into the last paragraph. And hey look, it worked, here we are. Stay safe out there, Resisters, can’t have ya gettin’ sick, we need every vote come November!
*Vice President of the high school drama club. It was close, but I refused to pander and become a puppet of Big Improv.