Y’know, this might be the shortest, lightest, blog I’ve ever written. Since last Friday’s update, the usually-ceaseless onslaught of insanity has been refreshingly mild. It’s been like being locked in a really upscale asylum for a change, instead of the bleak, 1960’s, Shock Corridor kind. The straightjacket is actually comfortable, almost snug, made from a soft cotton blend, why, it’s almost like being swaddled. And taking in the headlines today is merely like being rapped gently on the forehead by a pony’s hooves, rather than the kick square in the temple from an angry horse, like we’re used to. How soothing.

I for one am getting quite sick of white nationalist marches, but it seems white nationalists have an insatiable appetite for marching, and they never ask me for permission, so we had yet another dickless white boy parade last weekend, in Washington, D.C. There were no Tiki Torches this time ‘round, though they did wear masks, giving thanks for the hard-learned lessons taught by their trailblazing predecessors, who lost their fast food/strip mall shoe store jobs so the dirtbags who came after them would not need to. Still, it’s odd, that they’re so proud of that white skin, yet simultaneously terrified to show it off in public.

Tom Cotton, aka The Senator From the Creepy Gas Station Down the Road From the Haunted House, is planning for the future! Tommy Boy saw all the headlines about that fancy new coronavirus, and with visions of inheriting the largest, pointiest, hat in all of Cult45 dancing in his little pin head, he said to himself, “say, now here’s an opportunity for some xenophobic fear-mongering!” Future Republican presidential primary debates are essentially going to be competitive hate-offs. Why not go full reality TV, in the spirit of the Velveeta Vulgarian himself? America’s Next Top Klansmen, er, “Republican Nominee!” Who can propose the biggest rollback of voting rights? Who can burn the biggest, brightest, cross? Who can spray paint the most anti-Semitic graffiti in the dead of night, without getting the cops called?

A small group of Republican Senators apparently rallied around a last-minute effort to protect Lt. Col. Alexander Vindman from Shart Garfunkel’s retaliatory wrath, out of respect for the Purple Heart recipient’s long and faithful service to the United S-hang on, that’s not right. Lemme try this again: “A small group of Republican Senators apparently rallied around a last-minute effort to protect mouth-breathing rich boy Gordon Sondland from Shart Garfunkel’s retaliatory wrath, because he’s a deep-pocketed GOP donor.” Yeah, I didn’t think that was right; in the initial version, it sounds almost like Ron Johnson and Susan Collins have principles, so I knew right away something was off.

If you see Rudy Giuliani screeching into one end of a tin can tied to a string, take comfort in knowing that were you to follow that string all the way to the end, the other tin can lies in the halls of the U.S. Department of Justice! Yes, Redactor General Billy Barr has helpfully set up a special “intake process” just for Trenchmouth McIncest’s batshit anti-Biden conspiracy theories, and let me offer congratulations in advance to all the actual criminals who will now get to elude justice because law enforcement resources were diverted to investigating the voices that talk to Rudy through the fillings in his teeth.

And I see the Shart House rolled out their annual Holy Fuck You Sure Do Hate People budget proposal. A budget is a declaration of values, or some shit, that’s the saying, yeah? Well, President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster’s values are (still) exactly what we thought they were; to the American people he says Eat Shit and Die But Also Please Gimmie Billions and Billions of Dollars for a Big Stupid Wall as a Monument to My Insatiable, Turd-Spewing, Ego Anyway Seriously Why Haven’t You Plebs Died Yet? The fact that the lion’s share of the proposed cuts would fall on the very voters who installed Hairplug Himmler in office in the first place might have provoked a dark chuckle or two, if I weren’t spending so much time these days vomiting in disgust.

But look, just because he’s proposing draconian cuts to the social safety net millions of Americans rely on and love doesn’t mean Fat Q*Bert’s tiny, inadequate, fingers aren’t comfortably positioned directly atop the pulse of the REAL MURICAN voter! You better look out, Dumbocrats, because while you’re bickering about Medicare for All, the opposition is consolidating the vote where it really counts: the pivotal, swingable, Pete Rose Should Be in the MLB Hall of Fame demographic! Look, while Donnie Dotard has abandoned many of the popular positions that helped him get elected, from lowering prescription drug prices to protecting Medicare and Medicaid, he’s been phenomenally consistent in his pro-cheating-and-stealing views.

Getting back to the Big Dumb Wall for a second, I see the government is now literally defiling sacred Native American burial sites, because hey, new depths of depravity aren’t going to just find themselves, y’know. Never have I wanted more to find a kernel of truth in all those old schlock horror films.

Now that Mitt Romney has demonstrated just enough love of country to tearfully proclaim that it was a hard decision for him, but yeah, maybe we should keep the Constitution and do at least some of what it says, his physical safety can no longer be guaranteed at the annual gathering of frothy ragemonsters known as CPAC. Surely MAGA nation would tear him limb from limb, if only because his mere presence would remind them of the last dying embers of their shame, their decency, and their humanity, and who wants that, especially over a weekend where the whole point is to cut loose and disappear into the hate mob?

But yeah, generally a slow news day. I did pop in on Tangerine Idi Amin’s latest public event long enough to watch him fantasize about expanding the death penalty so he could start stackin’ up drug dealers’ corpses; y’know, like in China. President of the greatest nation in the history of the world, and he’s still jealous of a petty thug like Rodrigo Duterte. Anyway, let me go on the record as formally against giving Donald Trump additional authority to execute people, and also against any moves towards making American government more China-like generally. These people are not to be trusted anywhere, least of all in the vicinity of slippery slopes.

Ummmm…yeah, that looks like basically it. The Oscars seem to have popped a bunch of veins in America’s most racist foreheads, that’s somethin’. The Dem primary is sucking up a lot of the air, and that’s not really what I do in this blog, so it’s been kinda light lately. Bear with me, I may need to make some adjustments, in terms of depth or frequency…I’ll figure it out.

Meanwhile, we are in the home stretch for the Kickstarter for my very first comic book, The Worth & The Cost. It wraps up on Thursday morning, so this is your last chance to get in on it! You’ve all been insanely generous so far, and I’m beyond grateful for your help in making this very old dream of mine come true. Can’t wait to get the book home from the printer and share it with all of ya!