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.
Wilbur Ross Earned His Junior Dictator Decoder Ring This Week
I’m increasingly convinced none of this is really happening. At some point in the fall of 2016, I took a boat trip that I no longer recollect, during which I was swallowed by a whale, a whale which then swallowed a second boat, packed with hallucinogenic drugs, and I’m just in a coma, inside a whale, constantly inhaling some really bad shit. Hey, it’s easier to believe than the actual news.
Redactor General William Barr grows more comfortable in his role as chief legal thug to an authoritarian goon every day, and now he’s launching a Yes This is a Nakedly Corrupt Abuse of Power That’s What We Do Now “antitrust investigation” into four automakers for daring to agree to new emissions standards with the state of California. Defying Dear Leader AND admitting climate change is real? You’re lucky you didn’t impugn his crowd sizes, there’d be public executions.
Meanwhile, Cult45 High Priest Brad Parscale predicts the Sham Family Robinshart will become a “dynasty,” inflicting their trademark brand of hateful divisiveness and petty crime on America until Fort Knox is empty and Mount Rushmore has eroded in shame. Seems kinda overconfident when you’ve never come within 3 million votes of a political majority, but Brad also thinks he’s pulling off that beard, so…
Speaking of the hopelessly inept, Eric Trump singlehandedly uncovered a nefarious deep state plot to practice the forbidden art of responsible journalism, rage-tweeting about WaPo’s David Farenthold’s underhanded “tactics” of…politely reaching out to a potential source. Dynasty indeed.
The United States Air Force announced a historic change to their motto, which now reads “to fly, fight, and win—in air, space, and cyberspace, and also to take every available opportunity to funnel taxpayer dollars into the cheap grifter President’s tacky, failing, Scottish golf resort.” Yes, our military seems to be rerouting flights and servicemen, at no small extra cost to the Treasury, to Tangerine Idi Amin’s little money pit, and I’m telling you, when we finally beat this cheap crook, somebody needs to pat him down on the way out at the next inauguration or he’ll make off with the Monroe silver.
So apparently a deal was kinda sorta close with the Taliban, but not really because the Afghan government wasn’t involved, but the point is, negotiators were making progress while President Buford T. Dumbshit kept his nose out of it, focusing instead on golf and yelling at sitcom actors. But then he once again pulled what historians will surely call the “Trump Maneuver,” a deceptively-simple three step process during which he:
- Smells a chance for personal glory
- Swoops into a situation he knows fuckall about
- Immediately fucks everything up
Seems he hastily invited all parties, including the fucking Taliban, yes THAT Taliban, to Camp David, because he wanted his picture taken WITH THE TALIBAN. And yes, in no time at all, President Gas Station Urinal Cake’s cringeworthy Nobel thirst ruined the whole damn thing, so everybody can get back to their forever war now, thanks for your time. For those keeping score at home, the Shart of the Deal has now made precisely zero deals during his 2 1/2 years in office.
And then, for reasons that would baffle an army of psychiatrists, he told the whole damn world about his fuckup. On Twitter, naturally. Why? Because he’s an angry buffoon with no impulse control. Sleep tight, America!
Republicans, upon learning that the head of their party invited the leaders of the very terrorist organization that sheltered Al Qaeda while they planned the 9/11 attacks to Camp Freakin’ David a few short days ahead of the 9/11 anniversary, asked “well, do you still hate immigrants?” and Fat Q*Bert went “more than ever” and the base went “then we cool” because despite Bill Kristol’s ongoing bewilderment that his thoughtful essays on whateverthefuckhewritesessaysabout failed to shape modern conservatism to the extent he’d imagined, the GOP is nothing but a white supremacist hate cult. Sure, they’ll blindly back the policies you tell them to back, but there are no deeply held beliefs beyond the racism, not even, it would seem, “hey, terrorists are bad.”
Mark Sanford claims to have found a secret branch of the Appalachian Trail that ends up in the Oval Office, and so he’s joining Bill Weld and Joe Walsh in the Republican primary field that Sharty McFly totally isn’t afraid of, which is clearly demonstrated by all the state-level parties canceling their primaries in terror of incurring the Turd Emperor’s tiny-fisted wrath.
While Hurricane Dorian threatened the state he allegedly represents in the United States Senate, Prized Presidential Poodle Lindsey Graham figured it was the perfect time to jet across the Atlantic to take selfies with Eurotrash Megabigot Geert Wilders. I guess ol’ John McCain really was a good influence on Lindsey, he’s fallen in with a bad crowd lately. I’m worried he’ll wind up in a gang. Or the Klan.
And though the U.S. was largely spared Dorian’s wrath, our neighbors in the Bahamas got seriously fucked up, so of course there are refugees. Well, if Government Cheese Goebbels could abandon U.S. citizens in Puerto Rico to die from neglect in the aftermath of a devastating hurricane, he sure as shit isn’t going to help people who can’t legally donate to American political campaigns, so of course he’s inventing any sneaky excuse he can find to refuse desperate Bahamians entry, trotting out some of his favorite old racist tropes in the process. Stephen Miller must have his own version of a Spider Sense, where his bald spot burns like a hemorrhoid whenever there’s an opportunity to hurt non-white people in need.
CNN reports that the U.S. intelligence community was forced to extract a highly-placed Russian spy in 2017, after Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot placed their life in danger by “mishandling classified intelligence,” by which I mean “just giving it to the fucking Russians right in the Oval Fucking Office,” and folks, this might finally be the one that makes my brain run screaming from my cranium. What a blow to our country, and what a gift to Putin. Many theorized at the time that he may have put important undercover agents’ lives at risk; what can you do except hope he didn’t get any brave people killed?
You try to fathom the damage this rampaging taintfungus is doing to our country; to our national security, to our economy, to our courts, to the very notion of good government, and you can’t help but wonder if the people who lived during the decline of the Roman Empire could sense the collapse at the time. Did they have their own Mitch McConnell, holding the door open for the barbarian hordes in exchange for appointing a tax collector or two? We tend to think of Donald Trump as an almost unimaginably horrible president, but the job Uncle Vlad hired him for was Executive America Fucker Upper, and to be honest, his performance has been exemplary.
In the midst of all this fuckery n’ corruption, those closest to the Spray-Tanned Cray-Cray Man are starting to notice that, in addition to the ever-present malice and ignorance, he’s now in noticeably rapid mental decline, how fun for everyone! What happens when the shittiest brain on Earth deteriorates into Cheeto dust while still in possession of the full power of the American presidency? Tune in next week to find out!*
Politico reports Jerry Falwell, Jr. is not, as he would have you believe, an extraordinarily pious fellow, but in fact a bullying grifter and also kinda pervy, and I hope you had a fainting couch nearby when you read this paragraph. Anyway, why’m I spending my time crafting poo jokes for the occasional six-pack instead of going after the big money in the right-wing rube-o-sphere? Whaddya think, folks? Would you join my mega-church? It’s BYOB.
President How Dare You Call Me Racist While I’m Burning This Cross capped off another weekend of failing to fill the gaping hole in his withered soul by going on a lengthy Twitter rant, berating numerous famous non-white folks for showing insufficient gratitude for his primarily-fictional achievements. And the Candycorn Skidmark is, frankly, extremely fortunate the Constitution doesn’t allow the presidency to change hands when the incumbent gets his ass thoroughly owned on social media, or we’d be swearing in Chrissy Teigen right now.
Well, the party’s finally started up, you bring the nachos and guac, Jerry Nadler’s bringing the Nixon-style rules for the impeachment inquiry! Who knows, if this thing gets really nuts, maybe we’ll all wind up doing body shots out of Don McGahn’s navel on the House floor!
Rudy Giuliani’s search history likely reads “are conjugal visits with your cousin allowed in federal prison?” right now, because multiple congressional committees have opened investigations into his “nice country you got here, Ukraine, shame if it got invaded by Putin because we’re withholding millions in aid unless you make up some fake shit about Joe Biden being a crime boss” thing. It’s getting so you can’t even commit blackmail on the global stage without snooty liberals getting all law-enforcey.
One of the requirements for being a Republican in the 21st century is the ability to stubbornly refuse to accept even the most obvious solutions to any given problem whenever said solutions interfere with the donor class’ bottom line, and so, at a time when ever-expanding majorities are demanding common-sense gun control legislation before the whole goddamn country turns into one big hunting preserve for every incel with a grudge, the Shart Administration figures it’d just be easier to monitor everybody’s phone to figure out if they’re “mentally ill” and about to turn violent, so they can be disappeared, Minority-Report-style. Yeah, rather than just making it harder for any lunatic to arm themself like they’re bound for downtown Fallujah, let’s just give a terrifyingly unconstitutional expansion of the surveillance state a spin, shall we?
Because we live in Hell, not only are we STILL talking about the Velveeta Vulgarian’s idiot proclamation that all that stood between Alabama and Hurricane Dorian was the grace of God and wall made of out of Trump steaks that Mexico paid for, but it’s mutated into one of the largest, and somehow simultaneously dumbest-and-scariest, scandals in American history.
To recap, Donnie Two-Scoops was wrong about something, which is a fairly commonplace event, really, something that happens at least a dozen times almost every day. But unlike, say, his Dipshit Trade War, which is destroying billions of dollars in wealth and ruining god knows how many lives, this mistake was relatively harmless, and we should have all quickly moved on, like we did that time he went on Hannity to claim he invented buttons.**
When his clever Sharpie forgery failed to silence the naysayers, the Marmalade Shartcannon finally snuck into the NOAA offices to steal some stationary, on which he issued an unsigned statement proclaiming up to be down, down to be east, and east to be a special Nobel Prize for Accuracy in Weather Forecasting. This is some Playground Orwell shit, folks.
But now we find that Wilbur Ross, Prince of Naps and SECRETARY OF THE WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING COMMERCE DEPARTMENT threatened to fire any NOAA employees who dared to contradict Boss Turdworm’s long-since-debunked Alabama prophecy. Yeah. A cabinet secretary threatening government employees for fulfilling their legal responsibility to deliver accurate information about potentially life-threatening weather events to the American people. It’s petty and embarrassing, but it’s also authoritarian as fuck, and if Wilbur still has job by this time tomorrow, I expect a small army of zombie founding fathers to rise from their graves and drag him away.
Oh, and if anybody’s wondering if Boris Johnson is still managing to step in every single pile of shit in Britain, don’t worry; he is.
Look, I know I try to make my last story a bit of good news, as a little palate cleanser for y’all, but tonight I’m afraid I must report that Milo Yadon’tgotnoplatformnomo is struggling to make ends meet now that all the major social media platforms have banned his unique brand of performance art hate speech. I apologize if the news produced tears…OF LAUGHTER.
OK, Resisters, I’ve gotta see what I can do about getting my ass out of this fucking whale, so I’ll leave you here. Everybody wish Dan McCready luck in tomorrow’s special election!
*Assuming there is a next week, of course.
**No, this didn’t happen. But how many of you googled it, just to be sure?