Like the rest of you, I’m still recovering from the psychosexual ecstasy of the culmination of the 89th and final phase of Operation Jade Helm, wherein the Chosen One, the product of generations of interbreeding conducted primarily in the back seats of Antifa Ghost Buses, wielding the sacred Razor or Maybe Box Cutter That Turns Paint Into Algae Somehow, carved a gash simultaneously 350 feet long and completely invisible into the Reflecting Pool as part of the dastardly Deep State plot to make people think Donald Trump is dumb when he is actually part of the intellectual mega-elite that even knows about the b in dumb.

Perhaps as they drown in the telltale pea soup green of the spreading meme wave, the fools will come to understand (too late, ho ho!) just why we chose jade for that helm. Incidentally, whoever suggested adding the duck corpses – wow, what a great detail!

Yes, our sinister psyop successfully planted the illusion of incompetence in the public consciousness, where in reality, only a golden age exists. Why, the medieval theocrats misruling Iran have never been wealthier, thanks to the week’s easing of sanctions. I myself have yet to see the financial benefits from this deft bit of negotiational genius, but I’m optimistic they’ll trickle down in time, perhaps in the form of state-sponsored terrorism.

Of course, with a certain wounded narcissist’s pride as the Mao of Redecorating at stake, we definitely have to do tyranny over this. There have been six arrests already, in fact. Just because this gash doesn’t actually exist doesn’t mean people shouldn’t be jailed for carving it.

They’re building an extra torture-y gulag in El Salvador for anybody who ruins any aspect of the never-ending party President Rapist has been throwing for himself with our money. I just received a draft notice, actually. I’ve been ordered to report to the National Mall because no one wants to attend his sad, flaccid “State Fair” outside of the odd public masturbator. It says to expect 12-hour Ferris wheel shifts. Send snacks.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore Dear Leader as much as any government agent surveilling this blog requires me to, but perhaps we can dial back the feting until he goes a month or so without losing a war to a minor regional power?

I know, I know, if we have to wait for Donald Trump to actually achieve something, we’ll forget what noisemakers even sound like. Fair. The Ls are certainly piling up. Control of the Senate continues to slip. Why, even B-Bill Cassidy arranged a brief visitation with the spinal column he walked out on a few years back.

Anyway, now he’s threatening to veto the housing bill that just passed with huge, bipartisan majorities unless he gets his voter suppression bill, which I get; democracy must feel like a massive hassle when you’re so widely despised.

A few news cycles dominated by a veto override, peppered with a few more segments about Iranian hardliners bragging about the money you gave them, will restore your aura of inevitability, sir. If you could just manage to stay awake through a few brief televised ceremonies…well, we all have our limits.

I’m sure adding experimental weight loss drugs to the obscene cocktail sloshing through that 6’3”, 224-pound frame will only enhance America’s general great againness. No doubt even now he’s putting the finishing touches on the Greenland invasion plans, securing the eternal Red Lobster® Endless Shrimp® nights that were our birthright before Sleepy Joe Biden something something autopen.

Hey taxpayers! You cheered when you got to shell out a billion bucks to upgrade his Qatari bribe jet! You thrilled as he stole health care from millions to finance tax cuts for his oligarch buddies! Well, you’ll lose control of every sphincter in your body when he reaches into your pocket to pay for the “welcome bags” they’re putting together for White South African “refugees”! I can’t decide if I’m more excited to pay for the tablet or the fucked-up white nationalist children’s book!

Ron DeSantis briefly emerged from his ongoing dissipation to announce the closure of “Alligator Alcatraz,” a substantial setback for our exceptionally healthy democracy’s burgeoning concentration camp merch industry.

Sure, hindsight is 20/20, but assuming American democracy survives, one thing we’re gonna need to totally overhaul is Cabinet secretary confirmation hearings. We’ve been asking the wrong questions. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you, uh, ever cut the penis off a dead raccoon you found?” That sort of thing. Could’ve avoided all sorts of trouble.

Like, “Hey, you ever eat anybody else’s toenail clippings?” Politics doesn’t even need to come into it at that level, right? You’re in a cult that eats toenails? I love that for you, and I love our constitutional liberties generally, but I think we’re going to keep looking until we find somebody who isn’t in a toenail-eating cult for the (checks notes) Director of National Intelligence job.

Nice to see the security of the homeland has been entrusted to a surly manchild incapable of navigating a congressional hearing without a widdle stress ball to smoosh, by the way. Self-control is for cucks.

Honestly, given the preceding litany of failure (and I’ve been writing this blog for nine years, folks), it’s hardly surprising the GOP brand has grown so toxic even the likes of Tucker Carlson and Marjorie Taylor Greene are scuttling away in search of darker corners.

Frankly, they’re even more revolting in triumph. They lose in court so often, I certainly understand the urge for a victory lap when the illegitimate MAGA SCOTUS majority allowed them to deport some Haitian and Syrian migrants, but watching Megyn Kelly writhe around in her gutter bigotry like Ann-Margret in the baked beans scene in Tommy reminds you that beneath the bungling and bumbling, they’re really quite evil.

Look how proud JD is of dragging the nation’s political and cultural standards down to his level. “Can you believe a ten-cent scandal like Watergate took down an entire presidency? See, the trick is, you commit crimes all day every day, and the plebs can’t keep up.”

Like, maybe somebody should find out how much classified intelligence Tulsi handed off to that cult leader, but I have to register my displeasure about the ongoing assaults on the First Amendment, and wait, we’re persecuting GWAR for what reason, precisely? Oh, and we’re talking about prosecuting women who get abortions now, are we?

The moral of the story is you flood the zone with shit, you get away with ALL OF IT…

…until you don’t.

Until a weary, over-tariffed, frankly downright peevish electorate finally gets the chance to VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS, for example.

Say, that’s just around the corner, innit?

I should probably start stocking the beer fridge now because that’s gonna be a NIGHT, my friends. If you enjoyed this rant and feel inclined to finance my debauchery, know that I take Venmo, Cash App, and PayPal. As always, join the email list, follow @john_luzar, and please o please stay safe out there…

PS: Pour one out for That Guy Who Says He Teleported to a Waffle House, for he has joined the distressingly narrow ranks of the unemployed kakistocracy.

OH AND ANSWER YOUR DANG KICKSTARTER SURVEYS! New comic coming soon!