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.
Romney Retires; Boebert Jacks Guy Off in Public
Back in September, 2012, on the very night the famous 47% video leaked, I was approached by a man claiming to be a time traveler from the future, who snickeringly insisted I’d miss Mittens when his career in electoral politics finally ended. Naturally, I dismissed this as the raving of a lunatic, owing in no small part to the bathrobe and luchador mask the man wore.
But now, as Willard rides off into the sunset, with the family dog strapped to the roof of his horse, a dumbfounded nation wonders just how the fuck it landed at a point where a dressage horse-owning vulture capitalist retiring from the Senate would be considered anything but wonderful news.
I’ll leave the complexities of his legacy to the thinkpiecesmiths at the fancy magazines, but for tonight, I’m willing to focus on what unites us, like shared disdain for taint remoras like Josh Hawley and JD Vance.
Kevin McCarthy was on the hottest streak of his speakership. But then, the House’s six-week summer recess ended, and he had no choice but to clock back in at the job he does so very, very poorly. Hope we survive.
Watching Kev’s Kooky Kakistocrats go about their business is like watching turds knife-fight in a burning dumpster. Extrapolating conservatively from the week’s events, it’s reasonable to assume that by the time you read this, Kevin will be stumbling around the Republican cloakroom with his face stuck in a plunger, emitting muffled cries for aid, while Chip Roy crawls on the ceiling like the Trainspotting baby, hissing periodically.
Poor Keville Chamberlain figured a baseless impeachment hearing would serve as a suitable Sudetenland substitute for the let-it-all-burn corner of his caucus, but as usual, he was wrong. (Because he’s a fucking idiot, you see.) When a skeevy little crotchrash like Matt Gaetz can casually stroll onto the House floor to threaten you in the broad light of day, one thing you are definitely not is in charge.
Near as I can figure, the plan is to shut down the government unless everyone agrees to replace the Constitution with This One Wet Dream Grover Norquist Had After Huffing Ether With Steve Bannon, and accepting anything less earns McCarthy a one-way ticket to the Old Speaker’s Home upstate, where he’ll be spoon-fed soft foods, and pass his remaining days staring off into empty space alongside the defeated, expressionless husks of Paul Ryan and John Boehner.
On the impeachment push, I think the emergence of Ken freakin’ Buck as the voice of reason demonstrates how far down the rabbit hole we’ve fallen. Marjorie Taylor Greene has denounced Ken as a commie RINO traitor for spoiling the fun by drawing attention to the lack of supporting evidence, and she’s now proposing legislation to commandeer the Jewish space lasers to deal with his heresy.
Incidentally, the most pro-terrorist member of the U.S. House of Representatives celebrated 9/11 by once again calling for secession, but what Joe Biden did was way worse, marking the anniversary in some foreign shithole called, like, “Alaska,” I wanna say?
Succumbing once more to his losing-in-court kink, Off-Brand Orbán filed a motion seeking Judge Tanya Chutkan’s recusal from…from…oh hell, one of the trials, who can keep ‘em all straight? Chutkan couldn’t possibly preside fairly, y’see, given her well-documented anti-terrorism bias.
He’s suing one of the other judges, too…the fraud trial, maybe? My scorecard is completely fucking illegible at this point. And now I see Jack Smith’s asking him to kindly refrain from terrorizing witnesses and potential jurors, a request he has handled with his customary grace and dignity.
Also, the Velveeta Vulgarian sat down with Megyn Kelly, to chat about Santa’s inherent whiteness, and to helpfully confess to several of the crimes he’s been charged with. Kelly, to her credit, managed to get through the whole hour without any blood coming out of her wherever. Hopefully they can do a follow-up, where they get to the bottom of precisely who gave Dr. Fauci that presidential commendation he signed.
Pootie Tang wants the mean ol’ American justice system to stop persecutin’ his little buddy, and maybe he’ll find time to issue another statement to that effect once he’s done begging Kim Jong-un for ammunition. You wouldn’t happen to have any spare submarines lying around, wouldja, comrade?
I, like tens, if not hundreds of millions of Americans, slept soundly for the first time in goodness knows how long, secure in the knowledge that the nation’s most notorious falsifier of ATF form 4473 would finally face incict-y, special counsel-y justice. I’d like to thank all those brave patriots who made this day possible, by threatening the prosecutors and FBI agents on the Hunter Biden beat; America is finally great again, nice work.
Seems free speech absolutist Elon Musk has been “throttling” the New York Times like it was, I dunno, a Ukrainian sea drone headed for the child-murdering Russian fleet or somethin’. He probably just doesn’t want anything distracting folks from his posts parroting the Chinese Communist Party line. Or the anti-Semitism. Anyway, it’s the ADL’s fault.
Ronnie DiSappointus attempted to reverse his collapse into nonexistence by circling back to vaccine disinformation, that old chestnut, during the latest Covid surge. Yeah, killing off the handful of folks still paying attention seems like sound strategy, Governor. Proceed.
Elsewhere in the shared delusion some insist upon referring to as a presidential primary, Nikki “the Normal One” Haley added failed Senate candidate/furry litter box detective Don Bolduc as her New Hampshire campaign chair, while Chris Christie pledged to dog the Dotard’s heels, where’er he may roam, presumably to fetch his McDonald’s. And Doug Burgum shot a man, just to watch him die. Possibly. Who would know?
Foghorn Leghorn, down on his luck in this age of CGI and AI, has been reduced to phone sex work, the latest tragic…hang on, I’m receiving a correction…I see, yes. My mistake, that was actually Louisiana Senator John Kennedy, during a Judiciary Committee hearing.
Ron Johnson thinks windmills are somehow “killing the whales.” With sound. Windmills emit sinister, whale-destroying noises, according to the (checks notes) three-term U.S. Senator. Sigh. As always, this installment of the smash hit segment Stupid Fake Shit Ron Johnson Believes is brought to you by Acme brand horse paste, the paste your horse (and also your cousin who never left home) craves most.
Should future denizens of DeSantistan, brains rotted by PragerU videos, select Marco Rubio for enshrinement in the Capitol rotunda, he will surely be depicted furiously waving a copy of Sound of Freedom, probably on VHS, in commemoration of his heroic struggle to restore a couple of cancelled military screenings of the QAnon favorite. Truly, giants walk among us.
Word on the street is Kristi Noem and Corey Lewandowski have been making the beast with two backs and no brains. And it would be so great if that was the grossest thing we had to talk about tonight.
Two hours ago, I thought the following paragraph would sufficiently serve this blog post’s needs:
“Lauren Boebert staged her own, personal microriot at the Buell Theatre in Denver, vaping next to a pregnant woman, and attempting to overturn the “Jump in the Line” scene of Beetlejuice: the Musical, alleging it was “rigged.” Fortunately, she was thwarted before she could storm the stage and bear-spray the actor portraying Otho.”
But there’s been a late-breaking update to the story. So late-breaking, in fact, that I’m unable to compose an accompanying gag, but it’s not like I could hope to improve on Boebert Appeared to Fondle Date’s Penis in Packed Theater as She Put His Hand on Her Breasts.
Looking forward to all the devout family values types demanding her resignation for handjobbing a dude in a room full of families with children, aren’t you?
…I get why Mitt would walk away, is all I’m sayin’. And I think the one thing I’d say to him tonight would have to be FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, TAKE ME WITH YOU. But I doubt there’s room in the car elevator, so I’m stuck here. At least there’s beer. And with that ever-so-subtle rattle of the tip jar, (now accepting Venmo and PayPal!) I’ll sign off for now. You stay safe out there, friend. And yeah, join me on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, @john_luzar if you’re so inclined.