Every day is a thrilling new adventure, here in th’Land of the Free slash th’Home of the Brave; you tuck yourself in at night, never knowing which of your rights the power-drunk, illegitimate SCOTUS majority will take from you next. When you wake up, you don’t feel any different; you’re pretty much the same soul inside pretty much the same body, but your personhood has been legally diminished by zealots. It’s…odd.

Yeah, America was rolling along nicely, until the dominionists came to town.

Lately, I keep thinking about an old line of Dubya’s: “They hate our freedoms,” remember that one? I always thought it was a weird thing to suggest, but now I understand, he was speaking from a place of deep, personal experience, as a member of one fanatical religious group speaking about another.

While one certainly expects a conservative death cult to be regressive, I suppose one can never fully grasp the extent of the regressiveness until the death cult seizes a 6-3 majority on the Supreme Court. They really, truly, madly, deeply despise our freedoms, and thus, well…they’re taking them away.

The legal theories are consistent, if batshit: if we’re not allowed to protect our children from gun violence, why should we be allowed to protect all life on Earth from climate change? All suffering is God’s will, most especially suffering inflicted by the minoritarian despot firm of Kavanaugh, Gorsuch, Roberts, Alito, Thomas, & Coney Barrett.

As we settle into our new role as an international cautionary tale, the domestic Right is responding to the new reproductive rights landscape like a cannibal gang that just devoured a meth den. They’re euphoric about all the women they get to hurt right away, sure, but they’re also already feverishly concocting grotesque new weapons for the theocracy to deploy in the campaign against female autonomy.

We’re talking about laws to prohibit women from exercising their rights in more civilized states. Laws to punish those who do. And it’s only the first week.

With the resentment-fueled Wingnut God of Hate squatting in the halls of justice, a wave of fresh attacks on LGBTQ rights is next on the agenda; Texas AG Ken Paxton is standing giddily by with an archaic anti-sodomy law he can’t fucking wait to take out for a test drive.

(Away from the headline-grabbing stuff about all the decades of progress these six unelected asshats just pissed on, Justice Thomas casually slid a Taylor Greene-worthy conspiracy theory into one of his dissents, in case anybody’s wounds were insufficiently salted.)

Oh, and to really rub the Constitution’s nose in it, the robed fuckheads also took a great, big, scary step towards eliminating liberty from their own religion, bet we haven’t heard the last of that shit. “Yeah, WE can pray wherever we want. We’ll pray with our knees on your motherfucking necks, Derek Chauvin-style.”

Because the Lauren Boeberts of the world are sick and goshdarn tired of this bullshit separation of (their) church and (our) state. They’ve got a god who says they’re allowed to push everyone else around, which is a pretty convenient god, if you ask me, but the Supreme Court just made Him Governor of California, CEO of Facebook, and People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive from now until the sun goes out.

The Professor Marvel Memorial “Pay No Attention to the Fascist Behind the Curtain” award goes to Trump-endorsed Congresscreep Mary Miller, who, as you are no doubt aware, referred to the tyrannical usurpation of Americans’ civil rights as “a victory for white life.” Yes, the same Mary Miller who initially rose to national prominence by opining “Hitler was right on one thing,” why do you ask?

Anyway, the least surprising thing that made me weep tears of rage this week (say, that could be a regular feature) was discovering the ghost of Todd Akin, still haunting the GOP, ratting his chains, and moaning about Legitimate Rape. Perhaps Yesli Vega, the Republican candidate in Virginia’s 7th congressional district, was simply failed by her sex ed teachers…but then, perhaps she’s just one more malicious idiot in a party that values malice and idiocy.

(Vega’s running to unseat the amazing Abigail Spanberger, who y’all remember from the big, beautiful, Blue Wave of ‘18. Which I bring up in case anybody out there is looking for a race to adopt.)

Anyhoo, the political movement that re-canonizes Kyle Rittenhouse every other week is desperate to spin the narrative that it is Democrats who are the Violent Ones, Actually, and many a vein popped in many a deplorable forehead, as they collectively strained to will a post-Roe “Night of Rage” into being. Reality, as is so often the case with these folks, proved unaccommodating.

Still, evidence of Democratic brutality is liberally (GET IT) strewn about us, if we’re honest. Nancy Pelosi assaulted that kid, for example, and poor Rudy Giuliani was beaten so badly his subpar son’s political career died. And let us not forget Secretary Clinton, with her predilection for noshing ‘pon the faces of infants.

Meanwhile, famed conservative ethicist Eric “Possibly the Cruelest Genetic Joke on a Stumplike Family Tree” Trump opined that street violence in service to a known lie was “fair game,” and frankly “rad as hell” and definitely “something the rubes should do more of so my shitbag dad doesn’t go to prison, because if the government takes the money, I’d last about nine minutes on my own. Seriously, I’d starve, I don’t even know how to tie my own fucking shoes.”

Oh, and “an off-duty Rhode Island cop running for state senate has been charged with assault after punching his political rival in the face at an abortion-rights protest,” or so says the lamestream media. Now, without clicking, I wonder, can you guess which political parties these two electoral adversaries have chosen for themselves? The assaulter and the assaultee? The criminal and his victim? Since we’re talking about “nights of rage” and political violence and whatnot? Betcha can.

Until further notice, the target of the Two Minutes Hate shall be former Mark Meadows aide Cassidy Hutchinson, who violated the First MAGA Commandment: Thou shalt not mention what an unhinged, ketchup-splattering manchild the Turd Emperor is, especially not under oath, in front of the entire country.

Copy editors the world over struggled, mostly in vain, to find synonyms for “explosive testimony*,” as Hutchinson, newly free of her Trump-funded “lawyer,” walked the nation through Donnie Dotard’s autocratic mid-coup meltdown, as his dream of personally leading a loser crusade to the Capitol, in order to murder his way to a second term, slipped through those tiny, inadequate fingers.

Fixated as ever on crowd size, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot tried to have metal detectors removed, hoping to give a frothing wad of known-to-be-armed thugs a Loudermilk-style tour of the building, because hey, Mike Pence wasn’t gonna lynch himself.

And maybe somebody in the rapidly-falling Turd Reich could have done something to stop this horrifying, herky-jerky fashgasm, but I guess everybody was too busy staring at their phone, or frantically digging through the sofa cushions for pardons.

Oh, and the mighty Cognitive Test-Passer may or may not have physically assaulted Secret Service agents in an attempt to commander his vehicle, so he could sit up front and watch his precious hate mob slaughter Congress in his name.

Since even the mafia-style witness tampering failed to impede delivery of this evidence, Cult45 is freaking the fuck out, and quite a few enterprising young Brownshirt Scouts are going for their Smear Campaign merit badge. The Velveeta Vulgarian himself waddled over to Newsmax for a round of stochastic terror softball, and looka here, even Q (not the fun one, the one that incites violence) returned from exile to join the dogpile.

Now, I sincerely hope I still live in a country that will permit Cassidy Hutchinson to live out her natural lifespan in safety, but…I confess I have some doubts.

Anyway.

Despite a half decade of residence in this shit-flooded zone, the sight of a former U.S. Army Lieutenant General and National Security Advisor to the President of the United States of America, pleading the fifth when asked, “so is the peaceful transfer of power for cucks, or what?” still made me projectile vomit, so I guess I’m not totally desensitized yet, that’s nice.

And I’m not alone, it would appear; more rats than usual abandoned ship this week, because if there’s one thing Americans can’t stand, it’s wasted ketchup. When even the Washington Examiner thinks you’re too crazy/shitty/reckless/stupid/did I mention shitty to ever hold power again, you know you absolutely suck.

Rudy Giuliani deflected Hutchinson’s testimony with the deftness we’ve come to expect from the guy who booked Four Seasons Total Landscaping, before returning to his day job as the MyPillow guy’s spokesdoofus.

Now, this shitstorm is so thick, you can’t see two feet in front of your face, right? There’s a lot going on, most of it’s fucking awful, and we need leaders, now more than ever. So, how’s the sheltie’s-ass-bearded junior Senator from Texas filling his time these days? I’m glad you asked; he’s picking a fight with Sesame Street over Covid vaccines, yes, another one, in yet another doomed attempt to squeeze adulation out of the very death cult that once thrilled to his public emasculation by a superior primate.

Hell, you couldn’t get above the fold in my stupid blog, Ted, and I’m a drunken weirdo in a luchador mask. Everything about you sucks as much as your beard, and you will never, ever get elected President. Where history remembers you at all, it will be as a punchline, though it must be said, a legitimately amusing one.

Ron Johnson seems to be having trouble keeping his excuses for insurrecting straight, but maybe we’re being a bit hard on the poor guy; with a brain that succumbs to every conspiracy theory that drifts across his field of vision, you can’t really expect the man to navigate the finer points of a conspiracy to overthrow the whole dang constitutional order. Whether or not such a brain should be consulted in the lawmaking process is a question for the voters of Wisconsin, I suppose.

For any future historians arguing about how the fuck the most advanced nation in human history managed to sink so far into this morass of madness, well, with Teddy and RoJo making up 2% of the upper house of our federal legislature, we never had a fucking chance. Incidentally, tell me somebody’s watching Tommy Tuberville, he can’t be left unsupervised.

Meanwhile, Vlad the Miscalculator’s war of aggression rolls on according to plan, assuming the plan involved sovereign default and NATO expansion and retreating in shame from Snake Island, (which merits a robust “Go fuck yourself,” I think) and okay, maybe it’s not going so great, but he will not rest until he’s denazified every shopping mall in Ukraine.

GRIM SHIT, INNIT? But hey, at least Ketanji Brown Jackson got sworn in, hopefully laying the foundation for the court that’ll someday overturn all this hot kakistocrat trash.

Fucking hell. That’s enough, I think. More than enough. Lordy. Okay, well, try not to get gored by a bison, though if you do get gored by a bison, I certainly hope you get better.

*Volatile evidence delivery? Nitroglycerin-like witnessery?