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.
Harry Potter & the Pop Star’s Cousin’s Friend’s Swollen Balls
Life in America in 2021 is like being trapped in a snow globe that somebody won’t stop shaking because they’re afraid you’ll gather your bearings enough to notice the crazed, dead stares in your idyllic Norman Rockwell neighbors’ eyes. Also, the flakes are bath salts, or little chunks of ivermectin or some shit. Fuck it, let’s do the news.
The 20th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks sure landed weird in this culture gone mad…heck, even Dubya couldn’t help but observe that the current crop of terrorists runs a few shades whiter than the ones he used to use to justify various illegalities and atrocities back in the day.
Meanwhile, the dude who blew all Dubya’s dog whistles up into bullhorns marked the solemn occasion by partying with the Moonies and cosplaying boxing promoter like some D-list celebrity making the rounds on the reality television circuit. Oh, and I see our ol’ chum Rudy is still circling his filthy little drain in the least dignified manner imaginable. Was 20th century fascism this tacky?
The Velveeta Vulgarian’s shabby attempt at whoring the prestige of his former office was, of course, a miserable failure, not unlike, y’know, every other endeavor of his seven misspent decades. Kinda nutty that an entire political party lives in abject terror of a sad, sloppy fop who can’t even pop a boxing PPV buyrate.
Anti Choicey Barrett and Clarence Thomas, hot off their insidious We’ve Switched These Women’s Hard-Won Rights With Folgers Crystals Let’s See If They Notice shadow docket power play, say it would be a goshdarn shame if any of us uppity plebs correctly identified their cheap political hackery as cheap political hackery. Sigh. Can’t a gang of unelected theocrats plunge a nation into a new dark age in peace? Anyhoo, back to finger-painting Pat Robertson’s Xmas list over the Constitution.
So, I checked in with ethics experts, the Senate parliamentarian, and the Pope; they all agreed that, owing to his devotion to spreading lethal disinformation, and his long history of vile behavior in the face of disease and death, it is not only morally permissible to point and laugh at talk radio sleezebag Bob Enyart for dying of Covid, but actively encouraged. I’m told they’re actually not letting anyone into Heaven right now who doesn’t find Bob’s passing deeply, hilariously just.
Now, I wouldn’t presume to interfere in the sacred relationship between a death cultist and their propaganda-spewing high priests, but when so many of the voices y’all defer to on Covid are dying of Covid…does that not raise any red flags?
Every passing moment is a fresh opportunity to pull your head out of your ass, is all I’m saying. To anyone who wants to, I dunno, survive the pandemic. Come with me if you want to live and all that.
Alas, as even a cursory glance at the headlines will tell ya, such common sense self-preservation instincts are a little too much to ask of the denizens of MAGA Nation, who continue to choose death at every opportunity. Take that, Eddie Izzard.
My God, the numbers we’re seeing…the macabre milestones we’re hitting…you would honestly think we live in a time and place with three fewer vaccines than actually exist. Some poor guy in Alabama died from a cardiac event after getting turned away from 43 different ICUs, each overflowing with deniers and dewormer-chuggers. Forty-three.
Next door in Mississippi, it’s…it’s fucking carnage, folks. Under the leadership of Tate “I’m doing ‘em a favor by sending ‘em to the afterlife” Reeves, the Magnolia State finally completed its mad climb to the top of the death rate charts, how the FUCK is that even possible in an age of multiple safe, effective vaccines? 1 in 320 Mississippians currently reside in Covid-dug graves, compared to the already-appalling 1 in 500 nationwide rate. And that’s a choice. Culture-wide, from the individual level to the government level. Mass insanity, an honest-to-goodness death cult. I look at it all day long, and I still can’t quite wrap my head around it.
Florida’s shitty, discount-rack Stalin, called “Ron DeSantis” by some, happily handed his gubernatorial megaphone over to some cashew-brained rando, who promptly declared that coronavirus vaccines alter your RNA. Now, this horseshit, while marginally less showy than Watch This Spoon Stick to Me claims of magnetism, is equally untrue, and equally, what’s the word? Oh yes, INSANE. Just because the crazy people are on television all the time now doesn’t mean we should stop pointing out that they’re crazy, and thus should not be consulted on matters of public health.
If Greg Abbott trotted out some loon who claimed the Easter Bunny masturbated all over him while he slept, and the magical rabbit jizz protected him from Covid-19, that would be no less incorrect, and no less insane, not a whit, than these existing assertions.
And the forces of disinformation have a potent new set of allies in Nicki Minaj and her cousin’s now-famous friend and his now-famous swollen testicles. Yes, some dude in Trinidad’s lame attempt to explain his shiny new STD to his fiancée has gone Delta-level viral in the right-wing jagoffosphere, because we’re stuck in the stupidest circle of Hell.
Tucker Carlson wants to interview Nicki Minaj’s cousin’s friend about his swollen testicles, hoping to convince his own audience to keep on refusing vaccination, out of fear that their own testicles might come to swell, a plan with a tragically solid chance to succeed.
The California recall election ultimately played out (thank God) like an episode of Scared Strait!; after the perhaps-persuadable segments of the electorate spent a few eye-opening weeks getting to know the throbbing wad of bees and bat guano that is Larry Elder, they decided to stick with the non-murderously-insane incumbent, fancy that.
Naturally, Elder and his ilk made all the usual squawks about massive voter fraud, even showing spunk n’ initiative by beginning said squawks days before any results were announced, cuz really, why hang on formalities when you’re spreading Big Lies? The point isn’t to win elections, it’s to end them.
So I guess the new Woodward dishes all the hot, trashy gossip from the final days of the Fall of the Turd Reich. Apparently, Chairman Milley, that catty bitch, took steps to prevent his cornered-rat toddler boss from using America’s nuclear stockpile to punish the world for rejecting him even more decisively than Salma Hayek did.
Cue the wingnut outrage machine, naturally. These self-proclaimed “patriots” may not be big on speech rights or voting rights or reproductive rights, but BAH GAWD, the right of the American President, however addled or unfit, to, on whatever whim drifts through his deteriorating mind, nuke the living shit out of any strip of earth that happens to offend him, must never be infringed upon.
Insurrectionist colon blister Josh Hawley threw a sorry, attention-seeking procedural tantrum, vowing to block Biden Administration nominees unless Anthony Blinken agrees to pop the back pimples Hawley can’t quite reach or some such nonsense; doesn’t matter, since Josh failed to capture any actual attention, on account of being such a bland, tiresome, little weasel. We’re gonna have to sit through SO MUCH of this sort of Wooden Strongman Theatre in the coming years, y’know, as similar charisma vacuums (lookin’ at YOU, Tom Cotton*) audition to inherit America’s most credulous cult.
I see Mitch McConnell wants to play chicken with the debt ceiling again. I agree with Yertle that the threat feels significantly more convincing now that his “side” has proven itself indifferent to human suffering, but haven’t we all been through enough Find Outs lately to stop fucking around? Default now? Sure. Fine. Why have a lengthy decline phase?
Ohio Congressman Anthony Gonzalez, one of the ten House Republicans with enough courage and decency to back Government Cheese Goebbels’ impeachment, announced he will not seek another term, citing in part threats to his family from an out-of-control right wing culture of rage with a demonstrated and growing capacity for violence. Inciting terrorism has proven an efficient little technique for keeping the House GOP in line, have you noticed that? That’s maybe not the healthiest truth about American politics at the moment.
Bless his heart, Mike Pence thinks he can get his excommunicated ass elected President by very same mob that attempted to execute him publicly a few short months ago. Shitty man tiltin’ at a shitty windmill. Oh well. Fuck him.
Meanwhile, the Deposed Dotard keeps dashing off manic little memos to Brad Raffensberger (remember him?) demanding to be swiftly reinstalled as President Again For Real This Time, based on…fuck, who even knows anymore? Whatever hot new scrap of Russian disinformation happens to be pinballing around Gab or Gettr or OnlyCreepyOldGuysWhoWantToFuckTheirOwnDaughters.
I see “white replacement theory” is back in the news this week, thanks to Texas Lt. Governor Dan Patrick and House GOP leadership’s Elise Stefanik. Boy, that nasty little pair encompass the modern Republican Party perfectly, don’t they? The death-crazed apocalyptic zealot and the Just Tell Me Which Necks to Step On climber with no core values beyond “more people should do what Elise Stefanik tells them to,” united by an ideology of violence fueled by racist fear and hatred. It sure would be cool to defy the fundamentals and keep these skeevy freaks from power next year, don’tcha think?
We do want to replace you, of course. Not because you’re white, because you’re MURDEROUSLY INCOMPETENT. Goddamn. If you wanna hang onto jobs that you’re this disastrously fucking bad at, go interview at Comcast customer service, government is a bad fit. (I totally get why y’all are trying to destroy democracy tho.)
Good gravy, that’s dark shit. We deserve a little schadenfreude palate cleanser after all that, I think. Fortunately, the MyPillow Guy has dedicated the rest of his life to dousing his own scrotum in gasoline and setting it ablaze for our amusement, so we have some material to work with.
Browse the menu for a bit. There’s always the comfort food of yet another humiliatingly under-attended pro-Trump “rally.” If you prefer something spicier, try this tale of Mike’s futile efforts to rekindle the romance with his jilted former partners at Fux Nooz. Or, if you’re in the mood for something exotic and new, might I recommend the bizarre, three-day hatepillowthon with…wait, this can’t be right, Jim Bakker?
Holy balls, JIM BAKKER. Okay, that’s about all I can take. I’m done. Jim Bakker. Cool. Shower Cap out.
Forgive the disruption of the usual schedule, by the way. It’s Riot Fest weekend here in Chicago, one of my favorite annual holidays, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of letting the early bird ticket I bought in 2019 go to waste. A little punk rock now and then recharges the weary soul. I needed that, and now that I think of it, I could use a little more; headed back now. Stay safe out there, my friends, we’ll return to our regularly scheduled ranting next Friday night.
*We didn’t forget about you either, Pompeo, stop sniveling.