The Turd Reich unveiled its new anti-terror initiative this week, a plan to bankrupt organizations like Hamas by diverting their funders’ budgets into bribes for rapist game show hosts.

You have to feel bad for any NATO member nation that scrambled to dramatically increase their defense budget to meet Off-Brand Orbán’s ever-shifting demands; turns out, a more, ahem, direct investment of as little as $400 million, ideally in luxury jet form, is enough to earn the unconditional protection of the United States military, although whether that offer is good for longtime allies who came to our defense after 9/11 or just state sponsors of terrorism is unclear.

Now, it’s not really fair to call the plane a bribe; it’ll belong to AMERICA…for at least as long as it takes to install that billion dollars’ worth of upgrades at taxpayer expense (no, we still can’t afford cancer research, don’t be silly), at which point ownership will transfer to the Dotard’s “presidential library,” exclusively for library-type purposes, like carting around whatever classified documents he steals this time.

Surprisingly, even Republicans think this particular grift is a bad idea, and not that I don’t appreciate it, fellas, but let’s save some of that bipartisan spirit for these calls to suspend habeas corpus, huh?

Of course, the true cost of doing business isn’t the billions in memecoin kickbacks; it’s having to sit there with a smile on your face while the sloppy old fop rambles on about how he brought back the word “groceries.” You know that shit had MBS reaching for his bonesaw.

Anyway, during his tour of Middle Eastern dictatorships, Donald Trump made history as the first American president to compliment the physical attractiveness of a onetime Al-Qaeda leader. Watch out, Melania…

When he wasn’t busy hitting on terrorists, the Dotard spent his vacation yelling at rock stars on social media. Taylor Swift is apparently “no longer hot,” while Bruce Springsteen is a “dried out prune,” though Susie Wiles successfully intercepted a post complaining about never getting invited to one of Diddy’s freak-offs.

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t call inconsistency or pusillanimity ideal leadership traits, but when your idiot manchild president starts an economically suicidal trade war, suddenly his instinctual cowardice is your best shot at avoiding a global recession.

So huzzah! He backed down on the China tariffs! His cuck side bailed out his thug side, so American children may yet wake up to as many as SEVEN PENCILS ‘neath the tree this Xmas!

No promises, of course, since he’s already changed his tariff policy more than 50 times since taking office. Oh look, completely arbitrary tariff rates are back! Hang on, what’s that you say? Walmart’s raising prices, consumer confidence took another hit, and the United States’ credit rating got downgraded? Golly gee, how’d all that happen?

Speaking of backing down, I guess we just lost a war. Yeah, to the Houthis. Yup, the “sit back while Hegseth drunkenly lobs $60 million jets into the ocean” strategy really paid off. One nice side effect of flooding the zone with shit: you can have your own little mini-Vietnam, and most of the country won’t even notice.

Donnie Two Dolls promised “a very, very big announcement.” “Like as big as it gets,” he continued, with what the low-standards crowd calls showmanship. “Big as my ass. And my real ass, by the way, not the Ronny Jackson version.”

And in this day and age, you’re worried he’ll announce, like, “Pam worked out a legal justification for that Greenland invasion, so I’m bringing back the draft,” but it turned out to be just another one of those phony executive orders of his. You know, the ones that fail to achieve anything resembling what they claim to? This one fails to lower drug prices.

In an apparent cross-promotion with the upcoming Liam Neeson reboot, RFK Jr. reenacted the famous scene from The Naked Gun 2 1/2, declaring, “I’ve been swimming in raw sewage. I love it,” then improvising a roguish little “And so does my family!” at the end, because what Health and Human Secretary wouldn’t expose his grandchildren to “widespread fecal contamination and high levels of bacteria, including E. coli,” really?

Man, what do you even say about this loon at this point? I think Robert F. Kennedy Jr. put it best when he said, “I don’t think people should be taking medical advice from me.”

The House GOP tried to legislate this week, but I guess their latest attempt to steal health care from millions wasn’t quite murdery enough for the Chip Roy set. There’s another vote planned for Sunday night, so the weekend may give us a glimpse of my favorite conservative ritual: the Dance of the Caving Moderate!

With the air traffic control crisis spreading to Colorado this week, Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy figured the best use of his time was rummaging around in the basement for paintings of Jesus to relocate. It’s not safe to fly out of Newark, so you may need to secure alternate transportation to the party Sean’s throwing for himself.

Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins shook up the standings in the Sycophancy Olympics by desecrating her department’s D.C. headquarters with a massive banner depicting the man who thinks he invented the word “equalize.” You know Lutnick’s gonna get a really embarrassing tattoo to get back in the running, and we can only hope modesty prevents him from revealing it at the next televised Cabinet meeting.

Seems the White House understands that Pete Hegseth can’t be trusted to hire his own chief of staff, but they’re leaving him in charge of the Pentagon anyway. Sigh. I suppose even at the rate we’re going, we won’t run out of jets for a while.

Tulsi Gabbard fired two top-ranking intelligence officials, with decades of experience, for the high crime of, um, gathering and analyzing intelligence, because while it may be technically true that the Venezuelan government is not directing the actions of the Tren de Aragua gang, the Reich obviously can’t have people running around, debunking the lies they’ve been using to deport makeup artists to Salvadoran gulags without due process. (At least until the Supreme Court stopped them. Sorry, losers.)

With all these layoffs, you have to wonder who’ll be left to waterboard Jimmy Comey after the shocking failure of his plot to assassinate the president with a photograph of some seashells.

As terrifying as it is to watch so many of the most powerful people in the country rally around this lazy, Orwellian excuse to persecute a political opponent, we shouldn’t ignore the ingratitude. Not one of you dorks would be where you are today without James and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad letter.

Speaking of Orwellian persecution of political opponents, it appears the government is detaining and possibly prosecuting Democratic congressmen and mayors for conducting oversight visits at ICE detention facilities, how fun. Alina Habba’s in charge of the potential prosecution, too, just to add insult to autocracy.

On the off chance that shit’s not dystopian enough for you yet, Kristi Noem’s DHS is apparently considering a reality show where immigrants would compete for citizenship. Proposed challenges include “working at Kid Rock’s restaurant,” “keeping your damn mouth shut about wage theft,” and “being a White South African.”

(No, there will be no “risking your life to aid the U.S. military in Afghanistan” challenge, why do you ask?)

Incidentally, seems Elon, hoping to influence the refugee discourse, programmed his pet AI chatbot (“Grok”) to push a “white genocide” narrative. And if Grok pushed that narrative a little aggressively (“Hey Grok, who was the starting third baseman on the ‘89 Twins?” “Gary Gaetti. Now about that white genocide…”), well, at least it stooged out Musk’s meddling. Terminator films failed to prepare me for this level of cringe.

Internal documents say FEMA isn’t ready for hurricane season, which is particularly concerning in an environment where our national leaders tempt the wrath of God with alarming regularity.

It’s a lot, isn’t it? And I know it can seem overwhelming, so before I let you go, allow me to share with you this clip, from Christian nationalist Michigan state Rep. Josh Schriver’s new “album,” if only to remind you that in the long run, we can’t lose, for our opponents are, oh my god, the biggest fucking losers alive. If you click just one link in this blog, you guys…

…well, it should be the link to my tip jar (now accepting Venmo, Cash App, and PayPal!), because it’s finally porch beer weather here in Chicago, birthplace of Popes. But if you click two links, check out that song. And as always, sign up on the email list at showercapblog.com and follow @john_luzar, and please please please stay safe out there, my friend…