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.
If Moses Had Been This Bad at His Job, the Bible Would Be Shorter
What an asparagus fart of a news cycle, right?
Republican special counsel delivers a sneak low blow to the job-creator guy, sending allllllllll the shitty little Cillizzas of the political media scurrying gleefully to and fro, to squawk their favorite squawk of all: the squawk of performative, self-congratulatory impartiality. While the adjudicated rapist plots and preens.
Makes your poor, tired, Democrat heart skip a beat, doesn’t it?
I remain optimistic that the electorate’ll get its shit together as it gets a better look at the ever-diminishing, rapist game show host and his legion of the resentful and subpar, but it probably wouldn’t hurt if we shifted into campaign mode.
Fortunately, there’s plenty to talk about. The Republican Party is, after all, a wet, sloppy wad of yammering dipshits, led by a rapist.
The House Republican Conference is like a Volkswagen Beetle crammed to bursting with the skeeviest clowns on the sex offender registry, careening end over end down a mountain made of turds. Honest to God, have you ever seen such bumbling, bungling, couch-humping fuck-ups in your entire life?
No one expects actual governance from these dorks anymore. That would be cruel. Like driving 219 cows onto the floor of the Berliner Philharmonie and demanding they play Tchaikovsky.
I’m really looking forward to the movie, where Charlton Heston forgets to count votes before marching into the Red Sea, and wackiness ensues.
See, Moses hatched a sad little plan, to sneak the Mayorkas impeachment vote through while one House Dem was in the hospital for a medical procedure, which is the sort of maneuver only the majorities with the very strongest mandates deploy, but they fucked it up, because they are fuck-ups.
(Psst, it was really th’DEEP STATE’S fault tho. Like always. Don’t let anybody tell ya Republicans’re responsible for their own fuck-ups.)
Anyway. Speaker-fer-now Johnson then immediately fucked up his Israel aid bill, too, before storming off the House floor, furiously flipping through the Acme catalogue in search of something else to blow up in his own face.
Strategically, blocking the impeachment may’ve been a mistake; I think America could’ve learned something important by watching Marjorie Taylor Greene shriek her way through the role of impeachment manager.
Marj lent her celebrity, and, dare I say, gravitas to Matt Gaetz’s resolution to officially proclaim Off-Brand Orbán stands six feet, three inches tall, weighs two hundred and fifteen pounds, could almost certainly correctly identify drawings of every animal that ever existed, I mean, not the weird, Australian ones, be resonable, BUT THE POINT IS he absolutely, positively, never insurrected, not even a little bit.
Except that one time, of course. You remember, the months-long conspiracy to overturn the election he lost? The one that climaxed in that laughable-but-undeniably-proto-fascist orgy of violence at the Capitol?
Speaking of proto-fascist violence, Hannity’s broadcasting right-wing vigilante attacks live on Fox now. I actually didn’t know about Curtis Sliwa, but he’ll fit right in. His cosplay brownshirt brigade’s uniforms certainly match the movement’s “aging loser” aesthetic.
Again, I don’t want it to sound like I’m asking for better Nazis, but I do resent the shabbiness of America’s rapist-worshipping, white nationalist throng.
Which brings us to the compromise border bill, which finally died in a pitiful spurt of ineptitude, obsequiousness, and blind, racist hate. Shoutout to Oklahoma Senator James Lankford, who apparently slept through the snake story, all that work just to get tossed to the mob as a race traitor.
Elsewhere on the death cult loyalty beat, Ronna CertainlynotRomney had not, at press time, been formally thrown under the bus, though she has graciously lain down under the bus’s rear left tire, to await word of her fate.
Meanwhile, JD Vance wants to amend the Constitution to allow Donald Trump to rape whoever he wants, a bold gambit in the competitive groveling league some affectionately refer to as the “veepstakes.” Your move, Elise.
Republicans’re burning books in campaign ads now, that’s healthy. “As the only candidate in the race to set a stack of LGBTQ books ablaze with a flamethrower, Valentina Gomez is the clear choice for Missouri Secretary of State,” said Nazis, and nobody else.
Probably doesn’t help to have Elon hurtling madly down his $44 billion rabbit hole, stuffing his cheeks with every red pill he encounters along the way, pimping Great Replacement Theory like some shitty, too-online Howard Hughes.
I guess Ted Cruz is worried the revolution is gonna come for him next time he scampers off to Cancún while his constituents freeze to death, so he’s demanding taxpayer-funded, armed security to keep the filthy serfs away at the airport. Christ, what an asshole. The Cruz brand is…reliable.
The rapist finally agreed to debate Nikki Haley, bowing to her undeniable momentum following the Nevada Republican primary, where she managed to earn several votes against the widely expected winner: Not Nikki Haley.
Things mighta panned out differently if the early frontrunner, Not Ron DeSantis, hadn’t dropped out. The post-mortems on that splendiferous debacle are everything I hoped they’d be, tales of malicious cretins flushing immense piles of conservative donor cash away to throw the shittiest party in human history, a cotillion for a pouty, authoritarian dweeb.
What a bizarre, misguided endeavor. Did anyone consider themself, like, called to Ron DeSantis, I wonder? Did people meet and fall in love on that campaign, because I worry their kids’d have a hard time in life.
Oh, and Marianne Williamson dropped out, after losing a straw poll held at a Wendy’s in Topeka to Not Nikki Haley.
And a unanimous ruling against Donald Trump’s fabricated claims of total immunity surely earned a three-judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals a ticket to the work camp in the Reich to come.
But for now, the rule of law, though battered n’ bruised, holds the line. Which is good. More of that, please.
Gonna be some year, friends.
And to get through it, I am going to require…beer.
Yes, it’s time once more for the BEER GRIFT, where I bat my eyes and rattle the tip jar (accepting, as ever, PayPal, Cash App, n’ Venmo) and huskily mutter about relying on the kindness of strangers. Other things you can do to boost my self-esteem include following @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, and signing up on the email list at showercapblog.com.
Thanks to everyone who reached out about the payment issues on the Marguerite vs. the Occupation pre-order site, by the way. Should be working now, let me know! Thank you for your kind support, folks, it keeps me sane. Stay safe out there!