Seems like only yesterday he dreamed of joining the titans of history. Alexander. Napoleon. The sort of dudes who make it into Bill & Ted movies, y’know? He was gonna tariff the entire world into submission and conquer Greenland and deport anybody who complained to a Salvadoran torture gulag.

Ah, but even the stooges stop talking about third terms when you’re racking up rewards points at Walter Reed, where the 10th cognitive exam is free.

The mean ol’ courts won’t let him incarcerate protesters or violate transgender troops’ civil rights or even strike down a single flag bearing the four digits every loyal antifa foot soldier uses as a PIN: 86 47.

Plus, given the Kennedy Center’s gleeful embrace of their court-ordered reverse enshittification, we’re about to kick off the statue-toppling/scraping-your-filthy-name-off-shit phase of American history, several years ahead of schedule.

Okay, so maybe “Napoleon” isn’t on the table, realistically. Maybe you don’t get to be one of the “great men.” But don’t you feel like one every time you belittle that lady reporter?

Never lasts, though…does it?

Because suddenly the long-docile Republican Senate majority refuses to fund one itty-bitty ballroom, let alone a triumphal arch or a $1.8 billion slop trough for the dimmest bulbs in the domestic terror firmament. (Losing that money hurts cuz ninety-seven different Capitol rioters have legal fees to deal with from the crimes they committed after receiving all that clemency.)

Gee whiz! It was already hard enough to see a path to any sort of desirable legacy before the swelling spread to his eyes.

So, uh, hey, I got an idea! What if we leave this UFC ring up on the White House lawn forever? A UFC ring can be a legacy, right? OOO! Plus, what if we bulldoze the Statue of Liberty? Less competition that way.

“Y’know, the pool I had renovated is longer than some buildings are tall!”

…is it? Huh. That’s…very nearly interesting.

Oh, and you…you had a chart made? Aw. I’m sure Susie can find room on the fridge, next to the mockup of that $250 bill with your face on it that you’re also not getting.

There’s no need for such fleeting, earthly trinkets anyway. Believe me, between the screwworm and the measles and the whooping cough and the bedbugs and the Ebola, your place in history is secure. A biography composed of parasites and diseases feels entirely appropriate, in fact.

No need to worry about such things, surely. Why, the doctors tell us he has the energy of a rapist half his age. So everybody hopefully typing “cankles” plus “narcolepsy” plus “death splotch on back of hands” into the WebMD search bar can go kick rocks now that Marco Rubio has clarified that the president isn’t actually nodding off in all those meetings, but merely pining for the fjords.

Nah, the regime’s about to turn this whole thing around, now that the second-string kakistocrats are ascending to power. Assuming these trajectories hold, by this time next year, Blanche and Pulte will have flamed out in turn, and Nick Fuentes will be named acting DNI, while DOJ is run by an AI chatbot trained personally by Stephen Miller only to hate.

The Iran War, stubbornly lacking in ballrooms, remains way too boring to pay attention to, especially with so many tantalizing young athletes flitting about with their distracting physiques.

Speaking of the ballroom (and the president may safely be assumed to be speaking about the ballroom unless he is asleep, which, WELL), donors have helped themselves to $50 billion worth of government contracts in just the last six months. So populism is still going according to plan; thanks for asking.

Things really are gonna be different around here, though. Freshly discarded lackeys Bill Cassidy, Thom Tillis, and John Cornyn are finally gonna stand up to this Trump fellow, really put him in his place, show the world what REAL conservatives’re made of…just as soon as they’re done giving him 70 billion extra dollars for his masked secret police force.

According to the latest Two Minutes Hate, Harley-Davidson is woke and gay now, so if you have purchased one of their products, you are obligated to post a video to social media of yourself destroying it, with a crowbar or an assault rifle or a flamethrower, or, if you’re Kid Rock, perhaps you can get the “Secretary of War” to loan you an Apache.

…if he’s not too busy banning journalists from the press room at the Pentagon, that is. That’s right, replacing the actual press corps with blogging incels proved insufficient to shield Petey’s multitudinous mediocrities from the world, so further measures were deemed necessary.

According to the gossip columns, Greg Bovino has elected to summer on the continent, offering nurse-murdering seminars to eager young white nationalists in Portugal before embarking on a tour of camps and bunkers. I imagine he’ll avoid Albania.

Unusually stable geniuses within the Minnesota GOP hit upon the idea of observing a moment of silence for Derek Chauvin at their convention. While public backlash caught party officials off guard, I’m told plans for a commemorative bobblehead have been shelved.

In conclusion, America remains frabjuously great again. Please enjoy your flesh-eating parasites and bedbugs, those traditional harbingers of golden ages.

I’d certainly prefer to keep any organisms subsisting on my blood suitably soused, so feel free to contribute to my beer fund, via Cash App, Venmo, or PayPal, if you are so inclined. There’s an email list you can join at showercapblog.com, as well as a Xwitter account you can follow. As always…stay safe out there, okay?

Oh, and get ready for the second smash issue of GENERAL WASHINGTON AND THE LIBERTY TREE, my epic superhero saga about All This Shit, coming soon to Kickstarter!

(If you haven’t received your rewards from the last Kickstarter, make sure you’ve answered your survey! I’m still missing a BUNCH of surveys! I wanna get you your comics, friends!)