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.
QAnon, Zyklon B, and the Rest of the Wingnut Alphabet
Life ain’t bad these days, huh? Sun’s out, stuff’s opening back up, and if you don’t stand downwind, you’ll barely even notice the stench of fascism as it takes root on the American right. Still, before we embark on a richly-deserved weekend of sweet, sweet normalcy, let’s grab a clothespin and take a quick reconnaissance pass, in the name of vigilance.
So, you’ve probably heard by now, but at the QANon convention, oh yeah, QAnon has conventions now, where they gather in clumps like cancer cells to talk about the civil war they want to start in order to exterminate all the [SLUR REDACTED] and [SLUR REDACTED] and especially the [SLUR REDACTED] and ANYWAY at the QAnon convention, Michael T. Flynn, disgraced traitor, conspiracy theory-spewing nutjob, and (sigh) hero to millions of brainwashed cultists/habitual voters, could not conceal his hard-on while fantasizing about a Myanmar-style coup right here on American soil, because such thoughts are basically Viagra for Nazis.
Louie Gohmert spoke at this same convention (the one for the FBI-designated domestic terror threat), merrily spreading disinformation about the Capitol riot, before moseying back to his day job…writing federal laws. So that’s fun.
Enormous shoutout, wrapped in gratitude and absolutely dripping with admiration, for TEXAS HOUSE DEMOCRATS, who, having internalized the lessons of the great Kenny Rogers, knew when to walk away; like, for example, when freedom-loathing Republicans needed a quorum to ram their despicable voter suppression bill through before the end of the legislative session. Nicely done.
Governor Greg Abbott threw himself a tiny tyrant tantrum in response, threatening to cut off the state legislature’s funding, likely only after triple-checking to see if he could dissolve the body outright, like in the movies. Republican governors never miss a chance to bust out those Generalissimo duds for a quick strut on the balcony, do they? Y’know, see if they can get away with it…see who salutes.
Look! Up in the sky! Why, it’s the Crenshaw-signal! That can only mean some deviant sissypants libtard was being WOKE IN or perhaps even near THE MILITARY, who can deliver us from this calamity?!? Luckily, Danny Boy teamed up with fellow hollow-skulled jingoism dispenser Tom Cotton to launch an extremely serious, not-at-all-silly culture warrior snitch line, somehow failing to anticipate the inevitable avalanche of mockery. This inability to grasp cause and effect on even the most basic imaginable level provides useful insight into the way conservative policymaking always results in disaster, don’t you think?
With the entitled lunkhead certainty born of a lifetime spent using Daddy’s money to get out of trouble, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot has apparently taken to telling nearby stooges he expects to be “reinstated” to the presidency by August, based on the spittle-drenched delusions of Sidney “I am literally arguing, in court, right this very minute, that you’d have to be fucking crazy to believe the shit I say” Powell, and the Marat/Sade rejects befouling ballots down in Arizona with their grubby little bath-salts-n’-Cheeto-dust-stained fingers.
And so it seems, with his return to the Klan rally circuit imminent, the Deposed Dotard will resume his fascistic attacks on the nation’s democratic institutions, because he was once again duped by a highly sophisticated deception technique involving Someone on Television Telling Him What He Wants to Hear. Sometimes history is real, real dumb.
Didja see where Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov, with sternest of tones and furrowedest of brows, lectured the wicked ol’ U.S.A. for our inhumane maltreatment of those doe-eyed insurrectionists who only wanted hugs and okay fine to lynch the sitting Vice President? Diplomacy by trolling. It’d be funnier if it wasn’t working so well.
Yeah, a really cool thing about the way the world works nowadays is that a fifth-rate shithole fallen superpower, having stumbled onto a distressingly effective strategy to destroy America from within by weaponizing our nigh-limitless supply of credulous morons, can use their official state foreign policy platform to do their propaganda-spreading partners at Fox and Newsmax and OAN a solid, amplifying their disinformation while simultaneously feeding their audience’s insatiable persecution complex. Giggling all the while, no doubt, kicked back in luxuriant recliners, smoking enormous cigars, just waiting for the ol’ stochastic terror machine to work its magic.
Misgauging his might and prowess (as is his custom), Wee Donnie One-Term launched a social media platform of his very own, no doubt fantasizing about the day he’d rub the Facebooks’ and the Twitters’ noses in it, only to fail spectacularly and publicly (as is his custom). We’re told Trump’s primary motivation is fear of being perceived as a loser, and like, maybe somebody should let him know that ship sailed somewhere around the time he lost more money than any other American taxpayer.
Hot on the heels of this latest botched endeavor (if he’s been keeping his punch card up to date, I believe he’s eligible for a free sub sandwich now), Facebook announced Government Cheese Goebbels’ ban will last two years, at which point they’ll consult the Shitty-White-Boy-Terrorism-o-Meter “to assess whether the risk to public safety has receded.” That kind of of optimism is almost enough to get me to click on one of those MeUndies ads. Almost.
From his fashy Florida fiefdom, Ron DeSantis celebrated Pride in the traditional Republican manner; with institutionalized discrimination, and a clear signal to the theocrat white nationalist right that he’ll giddily use any power he’s allowed to snatch in service to their filthiest fantasies of puritanical persecution.
On the first day of Pride Month, Ron-Ron signed into law a shitty little bill mandating discrimination against transgender student athletes. On day two, he vetoed funding for multiple LGBTQ programs, including $150,000 for mental health services for survivors of the Pulse nightclub massacre. Dunno how many more doors there are on his homophobic advent calendar, but the message couldn’t be clearer: a vote for DeSantis is a vote for hate.
It’s precisely this sort of pandering, to the vilest prejudices of the shittiest people alive, that’s made DeSantis, a fungus-crusted toe of a man, complete with brain neatly bisected by a snugly ingrown nail, one of the leading contenders for the GOP’s 2024 presidential nomination, heaven help us all.
Louis DeJoy, somehow still Postmaster General despite abusing the powers of his office in service to a plot to thwart American democracy and destroy it forever, faces an FBI investigation into the campaign finance fuckery that was his audition for the role of Turd Reich apparatchik in the first place. Fuck it, nail the skeevy little freak for jaywalking if you have to, just get his treacherous ass out of office and, ideally, into a jail cell.
I’ve never really been tempted to watch bounty hunter shows, but now that Mo Brooks has turned insurrectionist deadbeat, I’m developing fantasies that need fulfilling. For such an ordinarily vociferous member of the party of personal responsibility, Mo seems curiously reluctant to take credit for his little hate mob TED Talk. Huh.
Seditious bedding peddler Mike Lindell continues to jet down the path to dying, destitute and despised, of a methamphetamine overdose, in Matt Gaetz’s bathtub, and I consider it every American’s patriotic duty to point at him and laugh.
Last blog, I joked that I’d be back in a week to talk about more Nazi shit, which was intended as a harmless bit of comic exaggeration (play the hits, Cap) but then I found out about Arizona Republicans’ latest clever scheme to get around the lethal injection drug shortage: Zyklon B. Yes, THAT Zyklon B. Hey fellas, far be it from me to offer unsolicited advice, but maybe emulate Auschwitz less?
Evangelical doormat Michael Pants lamented that he and his Turd Emperor will likely never “see eye-to-eye” on the events of January 6th, but hey, what’s an attempted lynching between a dimestore Jim Jones and the invertebrate enabler he so casually tossed to a homicidal mob? Watching the poor dolt cling to the hope that he can somehow transform bloodthirsty HANG MIKE PENCE chants into VOTE MIKE PENCE cheers…it’s an impressive degree of delusion, even during these batshit days, when delusion is king.
In a world that’s been disappointingly light thus far on comeuppance for the conspirators who attempted to murder my country, I truly cherish the exquisite timing of Mikey Hairshirt’s finish-line excommunication. Sold a fresh, new chunk of your soul every single dang day, until there was nothing left but a snarling, ironically fetus-like homunculus, on the promise that you’d be first in line to inherit the keys to the cult, but in the end, all you got was stuck with the soggy cracker. Well, chow down, Mike.
As you can see from tonight’s blog, (and, y’know, every one of the hundreds preceding it) everything a voter needs to know about the Republican Party under Donald Trump can be summed up in two simple words: hatred and ineptitude. Meanwhile, the economy keeps roaring back on a wave of sweet, Biden-y competence; say, is that the May jobs report in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
And yet the argument from the right is that their Confederation of Loser Bigots must not only be returned to power, but installed there for all time. The entitlement seems to rise in direct proportion to the bungling, have you noticed that?
Maybe the larger electorate has noticed, too. In a crucial early test, Dems overcame Republican fear-mongering to resoundingly hold the U.S. House seat for New Mexico’s first congressional district, adding the impressive Melanie Stansbury to our battle-tested caucus. Y’know, if these creeps can’t make fear work, they’ll have nothing to run on but their records. Hee.
Welp. Once again, my dad’s theory, that we’ll never be in any danger of running out of assholes, held true. Stay safe out there amongst those assholes, Resisters, many of them are armed, and the fight to preserve democracy needs you.