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.
Hitler, But Dumber: The Vladimir Putin Story
See, this is why you don’t let narcissistic assholes run counties. Because countries come with armies. We should have known, I suppose, that even war would find a way to be dumber in this age of fuckheads run amuck, but my God, it’s soul-crushing, how stupid this all is.
From its inception, this blog has dedicated probably 60% of its space to the multitudinous errors of just one man: Donald John Trump. And I have not wanted for material; between the malice and the imbecility, that dude fucks up a whole fucking bunch. A fuckup whose fuckups fucked up the whole course of human history. You don’t need me to remind you, you were there for every forsaken minute of it.
But please keep all of it in mind as I say I have never watched anybody fuck up anything as epically and as completely as Vladimir Putin fucked up his disgusting little war. Suddenly, Trump’s an amateur. Trump is a cave painting, this is the Sistine Chapel of fucking up.
What an evil, stupid, little man. To launch a bloody war of aggression, upon a neighbor, for vanity and petty greed, and based on an utterly delusional appraisal of…Jesus, of everything, every single aspect of this morass, the conceited ghoul.
We all know what’s said about the best-laid plans, and I think if we extrapolate from that point to whatever this THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING debacle must’ve looked like on paper, it’s easy to understand how we landed where we did.
Fuck, I don’t even know where to start. How about the linchpin assumption, which apparently held Mr. Super Spy’s entire master plan together, that he could start his war, aaaaaand nobody would fight back? Whole dang country just, what, thanks Vlad for making room for ‘em under his thumb?
That’s pretty weird, as assumptions go. And judging by his military’s bungling in the aftermath, he didn’t see much need to work up any sort of plan B, did he? Like, where does this confidence come from? It’s like modern warfare as waged by Ralph Wiggum.
A most definitely incomplete list of Things and People Chessmaster Poot-Poot Disastrously Underestimated: Biden, Zelenksy, NATO, pretty much every single Ukrainian, Zelensky, How Hard War Is Generally, Western unity, Zelensky, Zelensky, Zelensky, and Zelensky.
While simultaneously overestimating, to an equally suicidal degree: the Russian army, his own ability to set the narrative, his budding bromance with Xi Jinping, his so-called “fortress economy,” and, above all things else, the strategic genius of one Vladimir Putin.
There should be a Robert Palmer song called Fuck Around and Find Out, and the video would be Robert Palmer girls dancing while Putin reacts to the hailstorm of consequences he has brought down upon his own head, one at a time. And that video would be as long as a Soviet film adaptation of a Tolstoy novel. But it’d sure be sexy.
Stripped, by Wily Joe Biden, of the capacity to justify military aggression with a false flag attack, the best narrative the master manipulator could muster was some feeble sputtering about “de-Nazification,” like a paint-covered kindergartner blaming the dog for the crude treasure map that appeared on the living room carpet.
But the dictator handbook says the bigger the lie, the harder you have to stick to it, so Comrade Shitferbrains is still trying to gaslight Macron into accepting him as Indiana Jones, socking fascists in the jaw, rather than a crazy old man, working through a war crimes bucket list. I confess, I hadn’t considered Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me” as a potential blueprint for wartime diplomacy, but ol’ Vlad’s always ten moves ahead of us dummies, right?
You fucked this up so bad, kid. You aimed for the history books, and landed in the Darwin Awards. You were gonna be the Tsar that brought back the U.S.S.R., weren’tcha? Whoops.
You sure did make a Great Man of Volodymyr Zelensky, though. That’s some monkey’s paw shit right there. I’ll bet that eats away at you, too, in whatever spare moments might be available to a man getting pummeled from every direction by the wrath of God.
Yes, Putin now begins what looks to be a lengthy residency in Consequencesville. I’m actually dead as I write this, having foolhardily made a drinking game of the steady stream of sanctions announcements.
Congratulations are clearly in order. You’ve made your currency worthless. Pissed on decades of hard-won good will, business ties…good luck rebuilding those bridges, champ. Even your closest allies will have a hard time forgetting this lesson, on the hidden costs that accompany your “friendship.”
I see you had to shut down your stock market to keep it from disintegrating to atoms. The big, bad foreign currency reserves that were supposed to shield you from sanctions turned out to be held in foreign banks, and are thus forever lost to you, because you clearly thought this thing through real, real hard. Anyway, I imagine your financial planner has already been sent to a gulag.
Damn near every sporting and cultural institution on Earth has severed ties with your overnight pariah state. Every ten minutes you hear about another one, “the International Society of Erotic Harry Potter Fanfic Writers (ISEHPFfW) will no longer recognize their Moscow-based chapter,” that kind of thing. I’m sure you’re fine; angry soccer fans seldom lash out, right?
And because you’re committing war crimes all over television and the internet, you are manufacturing, in verdant abundance, all the public outrage necessary to guarantee the very outcomes this mess was designed to thwart. Because you’re so intelligent, you see.
NATO is all tight now, dog. Thanks to you. NATO is having sleepovers where everybody talks about who they have crushes on at school, and also how much everybody fucking hates you. And there’s a line out the door to join it now, too; to join the European Union and all those other institutions you hoped to scare away from your doorstep. Nice work.
And frankly, none of this should surprise anyone; it’s precisely the stuff one should expect to happen when one marches an army into a whole ‘nother country and orders it to start killing people.
Yet somehow, in the middle of this entirely predictable shitstorm, at the far, far end of some Kubrick-looking table, sits Vladimir Putin, thumb secured in puckered butthole, baffled into a stupor that anybody bothered to fight back at all.
They usually do, kiddo…they usually do. No wonder your sanity has been called into question.
I bet the walls close in a bit more with every seized oligarch yacht, huh? Well, I’m sure temperatures will cool if you just light a few more nuclear plants on fire, you idiot. You fucking idiot. Fucking fuckup. FIRE IN A NUCLEAR PLANT FUCKING FUCKUP.
I mean, Lindsey Graham is a reckless buffoon, but did he say anything these Russian billionaires weren’t already whispering amongst themselves?
Back stateside, comic relief has been provided by the leading lights of MAGA Nation, and their skeleton-crushing contortions, as they attempt to squirm out from under years of unabashed Putin pimping.
Hey, if anybody from that side of the American reality divide happens to be hate-reading this post on their sister’s Facebook wall, may I gently suggest that when a figure who has been presented to you as admirable instead pulls Hitler shit, you reevaluate your trust in those who made the presentation?
Like, hey Mike Pompeo, what was it you called Vlad on the eve of his campaign of atrocities? “Very savvy,” was it? “Elegantly sophisticated,” even? That was your assessment while he was marshaling his forces to slaughter civilians? Bet that breathes new life into your Surely Presidential Candidates Don’t Need Charisma Anyway My Mom Thinks I’m Likeable* campaign.
And watching wee Tommy Cotton fidget, you could practically see smoke coming out of his ears during his failed struggle to reconcile basic human decency with every cult of personality’s lone commandment.
Yes, despite the week’s helpful insight into Where This Whole Authoritarian Thing Leads, the Republican Party keeps stumbling heedlessly rightward. Assaults on reproductive rights and education keep escalating. And the politicians keep getting crazier and crazier.
Because the price of Off-Brand Orbán’s endorsement is total devotion to the Big Lie, GOP Senate primaries are getting deeply, dangerously weird. In Arizona, Trump scared Doug Ducey off without a fight (stochastic terrorism in action, folks!), and in Missouri, everybody’s flirting with the profoundly disturbing Eric Greitens, all while Herschel Walker remains functionally unopposed, history of domestic abuse be damned, apparently. If the specter of that potential Senate doesn’t make you want to VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS, I don’t know what will.
And don’t forget Kevin McCarthy’s predictable impotence before the Yeah We’re Nazis Wanna Make Somethin’ Of It wing of his caucus. Remember when “House Minority Leader refuses to condemn members who spoke at a white nationalist conference where the organizer LITERALLY PRAISED HITLER” would’ve been a seriously shocking headline? That was a healthier time.
That conference, by the way, featured a crowd of white resentment’s finest specimens, openly cheering disgraced former Sheriff Joe Arpaio, specifically for his world-renowned racism, just to give a clearer picture of this latest low hurdle McCarthy can’t seem to heave himself over.
If even a dithering milksop like Willard Romney can denounce the “morons on my team,” K-Dog, surely you can wag a finger at members who hang out with racism-cheering Hitler-praisers, or fling poo at the walls during the State of the Union. Oh right, that would require a spine. I apologize; I forgot about your condition.
Speaking of SOTU, Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds’ response, a rote recitation of all the standard MAGA grievances, wasn’t exactly a star-making turn, but I suppose we should be grateful they didn’t hand the gig to Roy Moore.
Or to Ron DeSantis, who’s too busy anyway, directing embarrassing displays of public surliness at schoolchildren. Sick burn on France, by the way, Ron-Ron. Seriously. Everybody’s extremely impressed and your mom’s super proud of the way you conduct yourself.
Hey, looks like Louie Gohmert blew up his own political career, that’s some welcome good news! Louie’s had the Dumbest Man in Congress crown nailed down for the entirety of his tenure, of course; insiders say the succession battle is likely to come down to a spork fight between Madison Cawthorn and Gym Jordan.
(I don’t want to move on from the Texas primaries without gifting y’all the truly bizarre nugget that awaits those bold enough to click this link.)
Oh hey, look, the January 6th commission has finally begun using terms like “criminal conspiracy” in court filings, a welcome escalation in what’s been an excruciating wait for justice. Meanwhile, one “Oathkeeper” pleaded guilty to seditious conspiracy over his role in the Capitol Riot, while the trial of a “Three Percenter” got underway, because in this country, terrorist violence comes from stunted manchildren playing dress-up.
Wait, wait…the seditious conspiracy guy worked as Roger Stone’s bodyguard? And, lordy, there are tapes? Because Rog allowed a documentary crew to film his treacherous ass during the insurrection? You know, under Kevin Bacon Game rules, the criminal conspiracy case just got a whole lot more interesting.
Before I let you go, be sure to check out the All-New, All-Different Rogues Gallery section on the site! These new Rogues pages were commissioned by backers of the Kickstarter for my WWII comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation, and they are hot off the press.
Speaking of comic book news, I just received word that the print run of ODD YARNS finally arrived in port, which means…well, there’s still some waiting before it gets to me, but it’ll be here relatively soon…ish! Which mean ANSWER YOUR REWARDS SURVEY if you haven’t already. I wanna get y’all your books!
Good lord. That’s more than enough bullshit to merit a weekend, I think. Please stay safe out there, my friends; this world keeps beating mad new paths to dark places, and I wouldn’t want to lose anybody.
*No, she doesn’t.