I feel like there are two kinds of news stories these days: those demonstrating the catastrophic consequences of empowering the rageful nationalism sweeping through the global Right, and the ones about America’s Republican Party looking upon those consequences and squealing, “Gimmie some more of THAT!” In other words, shit remains cray.

Let’s start by checking in on Pooty’s Folly, I guess. You’ll recall, the original KGBrilliant war plan relied heavily (okay, exclusively) on the opposing military not fighting back. For…reasons which I’m sure seem significantly less sturdy with hindsight’s wisdom. At least among the survivors.

Shockingly, it didn’t take Bard the Bowman to exploit this teensy strategic weakness, and it turns out that not preparing for war before starting a war is, um, not a exactly a recipe for success, restoration-of-the-mighty-Soviet-Empire-wise.

Which brings us to the present, and Vlad the Miscalculator’s wildly overdue plan B: hurling the remnants of his broken toy army at Ukraine’s west and south, praying he’s still got enough bombs, bullets and bodies left to eke out some really cool mud to brag about conquering in his upcoming “Victory Day” speech. Set your DVR for that one, by the way, it’s gonna give Orwell’s ghost an aneurysm.

Anyway, I guess the Russkies’re being marginally less idiotically suicidal than Phase One: Sit Here and Get Shot At, but we are most definitely not watching a superpower work its inevitable will on a weaker neighbor.

The last traces of that carefully constructed strongman/chessmaster image dissipated weeks ago, like an asparagus fart, and all that remains of Putin now is a sort of shittier, mangier Wile E. Coyote, trapped in a spiral of petulant aggression and humiliating defeat.

There’s ultimately only so much you can accomplish with a military this shoddy; mostly just clumsily apocalyptic blanket shelling and war crimes, but I repeat myself. Their tanks are shit and their troops are shit and their brass is shit, even their cyber army is shit, it turns out. From what I’ve heard, the chow is shit too, but take comfort, boys, I can’t imagine you’ll have to endure it much longer.

And while sanctions undermine Russia’s ability to resupply, Ukraine keeps getting bigger, better shit, (every other day it seems you hear, like, “Belgium agrees to send 35 dinosaur-mounted laser cannons to Ukraine”) so they’re actually facing a better-equipped nation than the one they invaded, which is pretty fucking funny, if you ask me.

All of which makes Poots’ yapping threats of “lightning fast” retaliation extra adorable. Nobody outside your fifth-rate police state believes your military is capable of so much as assembling IKEA furniture at any fucking speed at all, kid. The West will resist the temptation to polish off your pathetic “army,” because yes, you’ve got nukes, but honestly, if it came down to it, would you clods even be able to get the silos open?

See, nobody’s afraid of you when you fuck up this big. Sweden and Finland are making out with NATO in front of everybody, and they’re looking ready to go all the way. Shit, Biden sent Blinken and Austin to frolic through Kyiv, (technically the middle of a war zone, not that your clown army can get anywhere near it) the diplomatic equivalent of drawing a dick on Vlad’s face when he nods off after one too many Zimas.

Now the Russians bitch n’ moan because the War Where You Weren’t Supposed to Fight Back You Guys has spilled over into the murderous motherland. Fuck you. Don’t start wars. Spare us the mewling victimhood of the exposed bully, at any rate.

And Vlad didn’t even get his pet stooge in Paris, boo hoo. This is your life now, you genocidal turdmaggot. You’re the modern day Prometheus, an eagle shows up every single day to drop another bowling ball on your groin. Learn to love it.

Seems there aren’t enough mass graves in Mariupol to make the Senate’s Fakest Doctor stop spreading the Kremlin’s filthy propaganda, such is Rand Paul’s loyalty to the creed of kakistocracy. Forgive me for taking the low-hanging fruit, but it’s truly a wonder he doesn’t get punched more.

It’d probably be more fun watching Kevin McCarthy scramble like a roach dodging Raid in the bathtub if he weren’t in line for perhaps the least-deserved promotion in political history. Of course, Republican voters seem rather fond of obsequiousness in their leaders, which isn’t really any more counterintuitive than the rest of the insane shit they believe, I suppose.

The 2022 Republican primaries just keep on unfolding like a collaboration between John Frankenheimer and Eli Roth gone horribly wrong. In the Georgia Governor’s race, one candidate pledged blind, docile allegiance to American fascism and its Big Lie, and the Pennsylvania Senate debate, fucking hell, it was like watching a defiantly unwoke production of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

The once-great state of Florida continues its distressingly swift devolution into the Shithole Republic of DeSantistan, complete with appropriately obscene congressional gerrymander. How long, one wonders, before Reichskommissar Ron-Ron dispatches his new “fraud police” force to Disney World as shock troops?

Thousands of newly released Mark Meadows texts further illuminate the criminal blundering of the confederacy of fascist dunces who tried to steal our government from us not so very long ago, and I have vague memories of living in a country where such things would’ve been frowned upon, but alas, as Meadows’ texts with Sean Hannity show, the conspirators can count on dutiful wingnut media footsoldiers to pimp the party line, however mendacious, however rotten.

I suppose it was inevitable that a Twitter troll would wind up running Twitter, but given the bountiful buffet of intellectual and psychological shortcomings that comprise the resentment-fueled weirdo known as Elon Musk, this looks to be a rather perilous social engineering experiment, one I’d just as soon skip. Regrettably, both Moderna and Pfizer say a vaccine against the trickle-down consequences of billionaire manchild insecurity is still years away.

Jesus fucking Christ, did somebody forget to lock Marjorie Taylor Greene’s crate? She’s been on a goddamn rampage, the brownshirt equivalent of a wild spring break in Cabo; calling for “Marshall Law*,” and lurching to the brink of a kooky catfight with fellow psychopath Lauren Boebert.

Oh, and despite her Q-drenched ravings about Satan allegedly controlling the Catholic Church, she’s taken to palling around with Milo Yiannopolous, a disgraced, ultra-ultra-ultra-ultra-right-wing fanatic, who is literally famous for condoning pedophilia. No doubt this unignorable hypocrisy marks the end of her MAGA influence; they’re a notoriously ethically consistent bunch.

Speaking of the wad of feral colon tumors known as the Freedom Caucus, young Madison Cawthorn, hot off a fetching drag spread in Politico, once again got caught attempting to smuggle a loaded firearm onto an airplane, and isn’t it fun having so many sitting United States Representatives who behave exactly like terrorists?

Cutting through the bullshit to get to the heart of modern conservatism, here’s Tennessee State Representative Jerry Sexton, casually expressing his desire to burn books, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world, which it is…to Nazis.

As ever, at the center of the shitstorm slouches Donald J. Trump, (the J stands for “Just held in contempt in New York”) like an enchanted, talking ostomy bag, still whining about water pressure and staggering through his sad, sorry, incessant home run trot over “acing” that goddamn cognitive test.

The God Emperor of the GOP operates essentially like an old man fiddling with his phone in a booth at a Denny’s, muttering to himself, slinging slurs at the waitstaff, refusing to leave. Oh, and he lives in mortal terror of pineapples, apparently. Of course he does.

Really stellar personality to build a cult around, is what I’m saying. Exemplary choice, kids. I mean, the Sacred Passing of the Cognitive Test is practically a Bible story now. Anyway, communion today is a shot of livestock dewormer in front of the scroto-tanner, enjoy!

I’m gonna have to tag out here, folks, having knocked myself unconscious pounding my head against my desk. Before you go, I wanna share somethin’ a little different with you, my review of the song “All I See,” by The Bellwethers, featuring blog reader/Kickstarter backer Fran Scianna! It’s good shit, you’ll dig it! Stay safe!

*Yes, she is so very dumb, ha ha ha; I anticipate many humorous grammatical errors in the reeducation camp signage to come.