Folks, this week may’ve finally broken me. Marjorie Taylor Greene dropped a hundred grand on Kevin McCarthy’s used chapstick, and it only got dumber from there.

Are we absolutely certain this is real life, and not, like, my college theatre department staging some minor, absurdist farce from behind the Iron Curtain, circa 1977? The shouty woman from Act I, bashing away with her gavel, demanding decorum…it’s a little unsubtle.

Anyway, Donnie One-Term got his first official criminal trial start date, that’ll spice up the ol’ primary calendar.

Or will it? March 25th? Hell, he’ll have it sewn up by then. The state of the GOP presidential field at the moment is “so pathetic Glenn Youngkin might not be able to stay away,” which is probably the saddest thing I’ve ever typed.

When I saw the announcement of the announcement, that DiSappointus was teaming up with Elon for his long-unanticipated official launch, I laughed out loud, because there was no fucking way those two would be able to pull it off.   

And then they fucked it up, because they’re fuck-ups.  For months now, these two dudes have done nothing but fuck up, several times most days, right in front of us. It’s slapstick. It’s broad for slapstick, honestly.

You’d think, law of averages, at some point during his campaign’s excruciating rollout period, DeSantis would undertake some endeavor, however modest, that wouldn’t immediately blow up in his face, but then, I don’t remember Charlie Brown ever getting that football. And Ron is basically Charlie Brown, But Shitty.

Fucking of course Youngkin smells weakness. I don’t know what weakness smells like, but I bet whoever’s standing next to Ron DeSantis right now could tell me.

All I’m saying is, enjoy the spectacle of this uncanny valley restaurant mascot wiping snot on voters while you can; by this time next year, he’s gonna be in a bar band with Scott Walker.

Bless the increasingly surly thinkpiecery of the fast-shrinking pool of dead-enders, though. They’re like Cubs fans, But Shitty, in the way Ron himself is like Charlie Brown, But Shitty. I think “Rich Lowry bleating out ever more fanciful paths to a DeSantis comeback, from his lawn” is going to be a reliable running gag for a while.

“Ron DeSantis is girding for battle with Donald J. Trump where he believes the former president may be most vulnerable to attack from a fellow Republican: on substance.”

Yes, that is how the Republican presidential primary is going to unfold. DeSantis defeats Trump, on substance. Substance n’ policy. Why, the debates may be even thoughtfuller and dignifieder than last time.

Ron appointed a bonafide Capitol rioter to a state regulatory board, which explains why he’s talking about pardoning more of them. On a purely practical level, it’s difficult to staff a MAGA administration without access to the pool of incarcerated terrorists.

His existing staff is all tied up, too, extorting political contributions from lobbyists. Resorting to blackmail to create the illusion of support is the stuff of loads of successful campaigns, I’m sure.

Anyway, Nikki Haley & the However Many Dwarves spent the week trying and failing to generate attention, and I bet it would save time if I cut and paste this sentence into every blog between now and Iowa.

Though Merrick Garland is expected to emerge sometime next week from beneath his desk, where he has been quivering in the fetal position since receiving an extremely impressive, intimidating letter from Donald Trump’s “legal team,” I’m afraid the Special Counsel investigation is off, folks. I’ve never seen such lawyering.

Dangit, and right when DoJ got ahold of yet another level of incriminating evidence in the stolen nuclear secrets case, too. Oh well, I doubt Jack Smith had an answer for the I Declassified Them With My Mind defense, anyway.

Stewart Rhodes, Grand Dragon of the Bashful Boyz or the 7-11ers or whatever, gets to spend the next 18 years behind bars, because it turns out the Constitution does not, in fact, grant you the right to violently overturn an election, even when you really, really, really, really wanted it to go the other way.

At sentencing, Stewie delivered a brief, forgettable tirade about all the fake laws he made up that permit him to hurt whoever he wants, and how the judge should follow those laws instead of the real ones real people passed in the real world, which is MAGA in a nutshell, isn’t it? Conjuring whatever imaginary timber you happen to require to construct your own, personal permission structure for violence?

Like, how strange, in a right-wing culture where a Republican governor “jokes” about hunting Democrats “with dogs,” and a Republican state legislator bellows, proudly, on the floor of the Senate, in the middle of a debate over a transgender rights bill, “I’m telling you right now, if a guy walks in there, I’m going to beat the living piss out of him,” that we should find the grassroots lobbing anti-trans death threats at Target, those that aren’t menacing children with assault rifles at bus stops, or loading up U-Hauls with Nazi flags for unannounced tours of the White House grounds, anyway.    

“Weimar problems eventually lead to Weimar solutions,” they’re saying now.

Well, maybe, maybe not, but you don’t have any “Weimar problems,” dorks. You’re just making shit up so you can feel important.

Took the bill a little while to arrive, but it turns out, pausing mid-insurrection for a sassy photo shoot with your feet atop Nancy Pelosi’s desk’ll set you back four and a half years of your pathetic life. I’m really looking forward to MAGA’s second act, as an unusually self-destructive white collar prison gang.

Our old pal Noot popped by to praise the Great Mistake for transmitting his poison at a third grade reading level. Yep, that is exactly where his talents lie, Noot. Doesn’t seem the sort of thing you’d want to build a cult of personality or a political party around, but he sure does use small words.

Meanwhile, Lauren Boebert’s mad at Joe Biden for fighting anti-Semitism.

Nick Fuentes wants you to know he’s not a pedophile or anything, he just longs to take a child bride is all. No doubt he picked up some pointers on that score when he dined down at Mar-a-Lago.

Apparently, Matt Schlapp is a “cancer,” devouring CPAC from within. Y’know what? That’s a good spot for Matt.   

Hey, what do QAnon, flat-earthers, and 9/11 truthers have in common? Republican governance, that’s what!

Arizona Senate Republicans are not only hosting a legion of smooth-brained kooks at a Senate hearing dedicated to COVID lunacy, they’ve actually branded their fucking committee with a trolly QAnon reference. Snickering all the while, no doubt. Some goon probably spent a day and a half on that acronym, without even understanding he was peaking.

Meanwhile, Tennessee Republicans appointed a 9/11 truther to the committee overseeing the state’s social studies standards, but not just any 9/11 truther, a 9/11 truther who believes Obama caused tornados. You wouldn’t want merely mildly insane people deciding what your kids learn in school, wouldja?

What’s that leave? Oh right, the flat-earther! Meet Georgia GOP District Chair Kandiss Taylor. Though I fancy myself a political humorist, I could not hope to improve upon her own words:

“For me, if it is not a conspiracy, if it is real, why are you pushing so hard everywhere I go? Every store, you buy a globe, there’s globes everywhere. Every movie, every TV show, news media — why?”

…where’re you shopping, Kandiss? I bought some pants at Macy’s the other day, and the clerk wasn’t pushy about the globe thing at all. “Would you like to add a globe today, sir?” And I said, “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I would,” no pressure at all.

“Everywhere there’s globes. You see them all the time, it’s constant. My children will be like ‘Mama, globe, globe, globe, globe’ — they’re everywhere.”

That is not true. Unless your kids are fucking with their batshit mom, in which case they’re awesome. ANWAY, cool District Chair you got there, Georgia Republicans.

This is the fundamental problem with the MAGA ask, the insistence on government of, by, and for only the loudest, nuttiest assholes. I found myself appreciating the dark economy of the headline, “Florida Mom Behind Amanda Gorman Book Ban Has Proud Boy Links.” Lotta crazy crammed into those eleven words.

And on a certain level, I feel bad for this woman, who has been driven insane by malicious people on the internet, but we can’t let folks who spread anti-Semitic conspiracy theories on Facebook purge our libraries of books about racism. Obviously. OBVIOUSLY.

Fox News somehow fell for yet another white resentment-stoking hoax, despite their rigorous journalistic standards. I bet it’s the last time, though.

Kari Lake lost the Arizona governor’s race one more time, for old time’s sake, the latest stop in a terrifying decline into wingnut carnydom. She’s headed for the geek pit, with Rudy, mark my words.

So, the Republican-controlled Texas House is gonna impeach AG Ken Paxton, and Ken called the Speaker a drunken liberal groomer who shits in the furry kids’ litter box. I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be sorted out inside a steel cage at SummerSlam.

George Santos named George Santos treasurer of the Committee to Re-Elect George Santos, because why the fuck not? He’s out to make some memories ahead of a period of incarceration, and I say turn the little shit loose.

It’d make the ultimate road trip movie. Pair him up with a couple U.S. Marshals while he tries to burn through the last of the donor money before the trial starts. The Last Detail, only the kid’s a bratty grifter who’s constantly attempting escape, and failing. McCarthy lets him vote by proxy the whole time. America deserves this film.

I see Putin banned a bunch of the Dotard’s enemies from entering Russia, including Letitia James, Brad Raffensperger and the officer who shot Ashli Babbitt. Which is just embarrassing. Straight-up Lindsey Graham shit. War crimes and cringe, that’s your legacy.

What’s more, as if we didn’t have enough to worry about, Hawaii’s feral chickens are, I’m told, out of control. No doubt Antifa is already bussing some to your hometown.

So stay safe out there, my friends, if you’re able, though I believe that’s a feral chicken right behind you. And if you feel like contributing to the holiday weekend beer fund, remember the tip jar page has expanded, with all sortsa futuristic payment methods.