Donald Trump had a problem. A problem called “democracy.” See, he LIKED being President, (well, not the work part, but definitely charging the Secret Service to pee) but those rat-bastard Founding Fathers built all these dumb ol’ “elections” into their dumb ol’ “Constitution,” and smack dab in the middle of an economy you personally wrecked and a pandemic you disastrously mismanaged is nobody’s idea of a great time for a performance review.
Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes was an early adopter of Donald Trump’s unique blend of authoritarianism and kakistocracy, and it’s not hard to understand why; it takes a whole lotta institutional white supremacy to keep men so maliciously mediocre in positions of power.
There is no greater proof that the Republican base has no goddamn sense than Mitch McConnell’s consistently dismal approval rating from voters of his own party; the man is absolute ghoul, yes, and certainly he projects little folksy warmth, but he puts Ws on the board. Big ones. More than anybody I’ve ever seen.
One of Trump’s earliest congressional taint remoras, Ron DeSantis rode a wave of I’m With Stupid first to the Florida GOP’s 2018 gubernatorial nomination, and then, because learning from mistakes is apparently for cucks, to a narrow general election victory.
To level with y’all up front, I think Tucker Carlson is the most dangerous man in America. He’s the mouth of American fascism, and Donald Trump’s unofficial Chief Disinformation Dispenser, and, ultimately, a manufacturer of brownshirts.
Take an unusually weak mind, surgically remove evolution’s hard-won capacity to tell fact from fiction, fill the empty spaces with hate, and you’ve got Marjorie Taylor Greene. Drop that mind in the middle of the I-know-we’re-not-supposed-to-dismiss-MAGA-whites-as-racist-hillbillies-but-COME-ON shithole known as the Georgia 14th, and you’ve got the dumbest, most malicious member of the United States Congress, and ascendant American fascism’s loudest, vilest mouth.
When Rudy Giuliani, having just chugged a bottle of methamphetamine-laced NyQuil, stumbled onstage to deliver his apocalyptic sermon of fear at the 2016 Republican Nation Convention, you knew something was deeply fucked in this country.
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.
If Anyone Needs Me, I’ll Be Living Vicariously Through the Post Office Agents That Busted Bannon
Say, that DNC sure was a nice change, wasn’t it? Like pressing a cool cloth on America’s fevered forehead. A cloth damp with decency. And yea, alongside this cloth shall we offer the Barf Bag of Restoration, that the nation might purge herself of her Nazi loser infestation. Anyway, I’ve got a whole blog filled with stupid shit like this, so read on IF YOU DARE.
Hey, before we get on with the usual chroniclin’, I am delighted to announce the launch of Shower Cap’s Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide! We did a lot of good with the 2018 version, and we’ve been working hard to get this new one up. Lots of beloved Blue Wave freshmen to defend, plus a killer crop of challengers looking to swell their ranks. And don’t sleep on the crew working to take the Senate back!
God knows it’s more important than ever to pay attention to the fight for Congress, with the likes of Play-Interrupting Hategeyser Laura Loomer winning Republican primaries. Like, abominable ideology notwithstanding, Loomer is only even known for saying so much vile shit she got banned from social media, and then whining about it a whole fuckin’ bunch. That’s it. That’s the whole goddamn resumé. Does she even have a job? Have we already come to the point when shared bigotry is the sole trait Republican primary voters seek in their candidates? Fuck.
And then there’s the GOP’s gobsmackingly dangerous gambit to revive their ailing coaltion with an infusion of Vitamin Q. Watching that frothy mob of death cultists swarm over the rotting corpse of the Republican Party must be difficult for our NeverTrump chums, but I’ve seen enough zombie movies to know we need to set this fucker on fire (figuratively, calm down) before it gets up and starts chasing us again.
And now we’ve got the Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor himself pimping these terrorist loons, because ONCE AGAIN somebody out there said, “well at least it can’t get any worse,” and God heard you. See, because these demented freaks hold him up as some paragon of pure, holy goodness*, and since How You Make Donald Trump Feel About Himself is the only metric the doddering old twit uses to make decisions, we suddenly find ourselves perched on a tightrope over a live volcano. My compliments to the chef, that was a really nice touch on your America-wrecking indoctrination scheme.
Since 2020 insists on dropping gobs of hippo shit rolled in broken glass on us every moment of every day, I have come to believe we must take our pleasures wheresoe’er we might find them. Eating your favorite meal from your favorite restaurant out of a styrofoam container on a park bench. Snagging the last 12-pack of Dr. Pepper at the store. Kanye West failing to qualify for the ballot in swing state after swing state.
It’s the little things, y’know? Things that make you go, “life is still good,” or “hot diggity damn, democracy might just survive the fucking winter.”
And I’ll take all the good news I can get on that front, because Government Cheese Goebbels is doing everything in his terrifyingly substantial power to ratfuck the Constitution to death. And I don’t know if that means physically fucking the Constitution with, like, live rat dildos until the Constitution has been pulverized to dust, or copulating with rats until the Constitution dies metaphorically, presumably for esoteric supernatural reasons, I agree the first one makes more sense, but I don’t want to stand in the reader’s way; you are free to visualize what you like.
It really looks like the big series finale will hinge on whether or not our heroes overcome the insidious bureaucratic fuckery of the dastardly Postmaster General, to ensure a free and fair election, so that the American people can peacefully overthrow the Hemorrhoid Emperor who brought blight and plague and unceasing fucking TWEETING down upon their beloved homeland. We don’t get any Avengers to fight this one for us; we’ve gotta be the Avengers, I call Captain America, obviously.
Now, this DeJoy bastard knows his future holds honey bunches of jail if the rule of law returns to America, so fucking of course he won’t reinstall the sorting machines, or reverse the policies that’ve slowed the mail so damn much, no matter how many baby chicks or U.S. veterans die. There are a lot of reasons why I hate Donald Trump, but his insistence on killing so many of us, it…it’s gettin’ to me, y’know?
In fairness, “holy balls we need to cheat as hard as we possibly fucking can” is certainly a clear-eyed assessment of the Marmalade Shartcannon’s electoral prospects. Look, we’re Democrats, I understand we’re going to live in fear of the Magical Political Powers of Populist Dumbfucks for the rest of our lives, but seriously, the Yammering Yam decided, for no reason even approaching sanity, to demand a boycott of an American company that provides thousands of jobs in a win-or-die-in-prison swing state. Honestly, if I was Bill Stepien, I’d spend my time driving from precinct to precinct, smashing voting machines by hand.
…which is probably the backup plan if the Post Office shit doesn’t work out.
Or maybe it’s just to sit, pouting and cross-legged on the Oval Office floor, refusing to leave, and we have to call his mom, and it’s this whole embarrassing THING. Certainly Substitute Sarah Slanders Kayleigh McEnany isn’t ruling out the possibility, carefully reserving her scumfuck boss’ imagined right to unilaterally end the great American experiment.
Look Kayleigh, if we get to see you crooks dragged from the White House, wailing and clawing at the furniture, ultimately tossed into the very square you desecrated with your fascist police action like the wet sacks of trash you are, so much the fucking better.
Hey speaking of trash, if it isn’t our old friend Steve Bannon gettin’ his treasonous grifter ass arrested, and though he briefly escaped custody when his gin-soaked flopsweat caused his handcuffs to slip off, he has been arraigned and released on a $5 million bond, paid entirely in cash, the bills coated in a pus-like film, reeking of the dying biological emissions of some hideous, other-worldly lizard creature.
The arrest came from the very office Bilious Billy Barr recently failed to decapitate, utilizing, I kid you not, the elite operatives of the U.S. Post Office. And like, WE SEE YOU, WILLIAM. We see you sneaking around, corrupting our institutions; you uncorrupt those institutions right this second, Mister! Then go to your room, and by your room I mean prison. Forever.
Now Lou Dobbs is stumbling around, blitzed on hydroxychloroquine, screeching about the Deep State, but I’m sittin’ back, grinning like the cat that got the canary, slow-clapping for the well-timed W for the hard-workin’, suddenly-symbolic USPS.
The GOAT of Losing in Court further cemented his legacy with a pair of judicial nut-punches to the effort to keep his piss hooker budget, excuse me his “tax returns” secret. Can you imagine where we’d be right now if the Individual Wonder had put half the effort into combatting the coronavirus outbreak that he puts into running out the various prosecutorial clocks through procedural dawdling?
It’s wildfire season once again in California, meaning once again President Gas Station Urinal Cake is puffing out his chest and threatening to abandon countless suffering Americans, because they refuse to take his sage advice on (sigh) raking the ground in the forest. I must confess, when his malice collides with his imbecility like this, he achieves truly spectacular things in the field of anti-competence. The ability to approach a problem and not just fail to solve it, but to make it so much fucking worse, it’s…breathtaking.
And then Joe Biden strode confidently out before the cameras for the most important speech of his long life of service, no doubt grinning to himself, since he was about to effortlessly obliterate the opposing campaign’s entire strategy. “Sleepy and senile, am I?” Joe whispered, to no one in particular, before snapping the trap shut, dancing over the atom-high hurdles his opponents had, in their wisdom, strewn in his path.
Handsome Joe has, of course, always been a big-game player, and he rose to meet the moment, because that, dear reader, is how Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. rolls. He showed a weary America a good, strong, kind, capable man, ready to send the fascist roaches scuttling back to their dark corners, ready to restore decency, and move the country forward.
No wonder Hairplug Himmler responded with sad little squeaks about ordering law enforcement to monitor/menace polling places. Try it, old man. Call up your buddy Vlad and smuggle his whole fuckin’ army over in the dead of night. Won’t be enough.
Anyway, we’ve got the traditional white grievance ritual known as the Republican National Convention coming up next week. I can’t tell who’s actually speaking, I assume all the line-ups I’ve seen floating around the internet are spoofs or memes, they can’t possibly be real…oh fuck they’re totally real aren’t they?
Well, that’s all I got tonight, Shower Captives, hope you get a little rest in this weekend. Don’t forget to check out that Action Guide when you get a chance, and spread it around if you find it useful, we’re real proud of it. Stay safe out there!
*WHAT THE LIVING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO YOU HAVE FUCKING EYES?