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.
Congratulations to Mike Johnson, America’s 56th and Creepiest House Speaker
Apparently, there’s a manifestly unwell man in an ill-fitting suit wandering into and periodically storming out of New York City courtrooms, shitting himself and screeching threats at judges and prosecutors, who, I am told, is the frontrunner for the Republican presidential nomination.
Honestly, I wonder if he isn’t overstimulating his little death cult with so many targets; these are not people with the mental capacity to multitask. “Should I go after Judge Engoron, or his clerk? Mark Meadows has been granted immunity, but now I see Ivanka’s testifying, too. And what about ‘Maggot Hagerman?’ A nail gun’s only got so many nails, y’know.”
Ah well. Dogs gotta bark, fish gotta swim, wannabe autocrats gotta feed perceived enemies to the stochastic murder mob. With the gag order violation fines piling up so quickly, I hope the rubes’re ready to pony up for another round of NFTs, or perhaps a line of commemorative handcuffs.
When he’s not trying to get witnesses or members of the legal profession killed, Inmate P01135809 stays busy working up plans to pull out of NATO, (“Hungary, Turkey, who can keep ‘em straight?”) and blabbing our national secrets to every foreign billionaire who pays the Marm-a-Lago membership fee. If there ever was anything worth hiding in Area 51, it’s surely been dismembered with Saudi bone saws by now.
Anyway, I know I’ve been pretty hard on ol’ Donnie Dotard over the years, but now that I’ve had time to ruminate upon his revolutionary insight into the spelling of the word “us,” I confess I’m giving him another look. Maybe he’s the very stable genius America needs right now; this one time, he correctly identified a picture of a horsie.
Fani Willis’ collection of “21st century American traitors pleading guilty” Hummel figurines is coming along nicely, and I think the Sobbing Jenna Ellis looks just charming next to the De-Krakenized Sidney Powell and the Boy Howdy Did I Ever Fuck Up Kenneth Chesebro. Shoot, if the rumors are true, she’ll need a whole dedicated shelf soon.
Chaos in the House of Representatives escalated to the point where Republicans briefly elevated jug-band frontmuppet Emmet Otter to the post of Speaker-Designate, before…hang on, I’m receiving a correction…wait, what? What’s a “Tom Emmer?”
Never mind, doesn’t matter now, since, as Tim discovered, there’s nothing wingnuts enjoy more than overturning an election they lost. Proclaimed insufficiently disloyal to the U.S. Constitution and dubbed a “globalist RINO” by Off-Brand Orbán, he was swiftly sent packing to whatever sad, jug-bandless existence he previously led.
And thus concluded the Last Ride of the Moderates, as Ken Buck and co. decided that sticking to their stated principles for more than a week would be far too exhausting, so if anybody could dig up an insurrectionist who adhered to a more traditional dress code than Gym Jordan, they’d happily return to their natural, capitulatory state.
As if on cue, something called “Mike Johnson” emerged from the tank in the back of the meth lab lab where Matt Gaetz takes teenagers on dates. Cloned from crusty genetic material scraped off the manikin dressed like Ronald Reagan in Mike Pence’s basement, Johnson is the skeeviest little would-be theocrat you’ve never heard of.
An acolyte of faux historian David Barton, Mike’s one of those “bad things happen because God punishes people for disagreeing with me” types, who wants to criminalize gay sex and abortion, and espouses a diet, caffeine-free version of the Great Replacement Theory. Oh, and he was a leader of the conspiracy to end American democracy forever, almost forgot.
But since he doesn’t fling poo at the walls during hearings, the Buck/Bacon crowd imagines they can pass Johnson off as some kind of statesman. Good luck with that. You can shout down reporters asking inconvenient questions, but it won’t be long before your swing district incumbents have second thoughts about rallying behind an opposition researcher’s wettest possible dream.
Still, America’ll be great again in no time with Mike in charge, with birthing vessels churnin’ out more than enough “able-bodied workers” to keep entitlement programs funded for years to come.
Baffling experts, somehow Sean Hannity’s extensive MMA training wasn’t enough to thwart the latest mass shooter’s murderous rampage, but I bet our shiny new Speaker’s prayers (and I found it refreshingly clarifying that Johnson didn’t bother to offer any “thoughts”) cleared the whole gun violence thing up once and for all.
Gotta get me one of them “Supreme Court Justice” gigs, cuz Clarence Thomas’ life looks pretty fuckin’ sweet, doesn’t it? Part-time job stripping women of their fundamental human rights, gets to spend the rest of his time just strolling around, pointing at stuff he wants his various billionaire sugar daddies to buy for him.
“I want an RV, Daddy!” And lo and behold, an RV appears in the driveway. My belief is that sending the entire Republican SCOTUS majority on a field trip to the Wonka factory would brighten the nation’s outlook considerably.
Blake Masters announced a run for Congress in Arizona’s 8th district, cheating America of the sublime obscenity of a primary face-off with Kari Lake. I’m beyond disappointed. Those debates would’ve been like outtakes from a Ken Russell movie. Set in a circus. Where the clowns like to throw up on one another. During sex acts.
Hard to tell if Elon’s more upset about his $44 billion toy’s plummeting usage metrics, or that statue of seditious loser Robert E. Lee getting melted down. I suppose we’d have to ask his new, teenaged, anti-Semitic BFF.
And Michigan state Rep. Rachelle Smit handed out participation trophies to a couple of shitbags from that plot to kidnap Governor Whitmer, in case anyone’s worried we aren’t normalizing domestic terrorism fast enough.
Well, I’m gonna grab a beer and sift through the rest of the Mike Johnson oppo dump. Gonna take at least a twelve-pack, I figure, so all beer donations are welcome. You can also support th’blog by joining the email list at showercapblog.com, or by following @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter. And by staying safe out there in our mad, mad, mad, mad world. See you next week, friend.