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.
Shitty Evita and Other RNC Lunatics
Look, I’m not saying quarantine is getting to me, but lately I’ve taken to writing EAT ME on everything in the fridge, because at some point, something has to make me magically grow right out of Shitty Wonderland, and I’ll wake up safe in my bed, right? RIGHT? C’mon, pull up a toadstool, we’ll go over the news:
You’ve seen the shiny new Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide, right? It’s got all you need to know about the closest races for the U.S. House and Senate, and if you dig this weird little poo joke blog, I think you’ll find the Guide useful and amusing. Check it out, and pitch in if you can!
But if you can’t, don’t worry about it; times is hard, y’know? The whole dang point of the Democratic Party is helping folks when they’re struggling; we’re not like Arizona’s Participation Trophy Senator, Martha McSally, who literally begged her supporters to starve themselves so they could send her flailing campaign more money. Yes, the very same Martha McSally who opposed expanded unemployment benefits for the filthy takers thinks you should “fast a meal” so she can stay in Washington, with her boot on your neck. Can’t make this shit up.
Well, a little while back, when we first heard Melania was redoing the Rose Garden, we knew it’d turn out shitty, and sure enough, it turned out shitty. I’m mostly just grateful she didn’t drop a couple of gold toilets amongst the bushes and call it a day; remember, it can always get worse with these jerks.
So, Lil’ Donnie Dotard rang the bell in the town square, and when we all came running, he squeaked, “Scandal! Shame! The dastardly Democrats have stripped God from the Pledge of Allegiance,” and we went, “oh, it’s only the turd who cried wolf,” because he was lying again, of course, and so we joined hands and danced in a circle around him, chanting, “You don’t know how to run against Biden!” because in this scenario we’re all little kids, was that unclear?
This is what passes for strategic brilliance in that Adderall-addled brain: an easily-debunked lie that makes him look like, well, like someone who needs a basic cognitive test. Still, in MAGA nation, this will be accepted as gospel truth, and if you don’t believe me, try asking that old high school chum who posts Q memes what he thinks, but only if you’re willing to get an earful about Godless Joe and his heathen antifa hordes.
Of course, here in the real world, the only folks I see taking God out of anything are wearing red ball caps that say Made in China on the tag. Recent polling reveals fifty-fucking-seven percent of Republicans find the coronavirus death toll, well over 180,000 as I type this, “acceptable,” and if you haven’t heard Jeff Foxworthy’s ”You Might be in a Death Cult if….” routine, this is pretty much the whole thing.
Such a horrifyingly passive little word in this context, “acceptable.” Anyway, one of things I like best about Joe Biden is how he doesn’t ask me to die for him. Or even skip a meal!
I guess there are secret recordings of Sharty McFly’s sister talking about what a turd-gargling rat bastard he is, and…I confess, I don’t get why anyone expects this to change anything. There are millions of people saying the same things right this very minute. Donald Trump’s flaws are wildly agreed upon; indeed, none of us have been granted a moment’s respite from them for four years. There are people who care that the President is an amoral psychopath, and there are people who don’t; we’re just waiting see how many of each live in Wisconsin.
The House of Representatives returned from recess to pass, with surprising bipartisan support, a bill designed to rescue the United States Postal Service from an executive branch hellbent on sabotaging it from within in order to undermine the coming election. Boy, that sentence’ll surprise a few kids in the history classes of the future, won’t it? “Wait, wait, I tuned out around the moon landing, who did what to the Post Office, now?”
Or maybe they’ll ask, “what’s a Post Office?” before leaving their offerings at the feet of the Ivanka statue outside the school. You’ve checked to make sure you’re registered to vote, yes?
Anyway, the bill now heads to the decency graveyard Mitch McConnell calls his desk, a reminder that it’s crucial to take back the Senate this fall, and have I mentioned I’ve got an Action Guide for that?
Also, I guess the Postmaster General doesn’t know what it costs to mail a postcard, but he still gets to hang onto the power to sabotage a crucial piece of electoral infrastructure, endangering the health of rural Americans and veterans, and crotch-stomping already pandemic-battered small businesses, collateral damage Louis DeJoy and his wannabe dictator bosses do not give a single fuck about.
Cool country we’ve got here. Very first world. Not at all a shithole.
So, President Crotchvoid called himself a little press conference over the weekend to pimp his latest untested coronavirus miracle cure, (Hydroxychloroquine…now with Splenda!) but fortunately, the grown-ups in his administration got out ahead of him and he wound up sulking away after a couple of softballs from friendly propaganda outlets.
Really looking forward to the night before Election Day, when he’ll proclaim via tweet that he discovered a Covid cure himself by mixing the drinks at the soda fountain at Chuck E. Cheese, also Q is totally real and all Democrats are pedophiles SLAY THEM MY UNHOLY CHILDREN OF THE CANDY CORN!*
New York Attorney General Letitia James sued the Shart Organization; apparently they’ve been lying about the size of the Velveeta Vulgarian’s financial assets, inflating or deflating them willy-nilly, like Eric’s high school girlfriend, to suit their fraudulent schemes. Y’know, once the law is done catching up to these cheap career crooks, I hope they’re not allowed to serve their many sentences concurrently. See, you gotta think ahead, folks.
You’ll no doubt be shocked to learn that George and Kellyanne Conway are shitty parents, though they may have finally been scared straight by their teenage daughter’s sudden, publicly-declared pursuit of legal emancipation. Anyway, this all feels like a Tennessee Williams acid freakout, and I’d like to move on to literally anything else now.
So I guess Jerry Falwell, Jr. likes watching the pool boy fuck his wife, and between this and the recent Ben Shapiro news, one has to wonder if any prominent conservative male has ever actually sired a biological child. When you go to Republican picnics, you meet a lot of kids with mom’s personal trainer’s eyes, y’know?
Celebrity Punch Receiver Richard Spencer thought he’d be a clever little ratfucker and endorse Joe Biden, as though there’s some great, culture-wide uncertainty as to which side the Nazis are on here. Smilin’ Joe wasted little time telling Spencer where he could shove his endorsement, noting of Dickie Boy’s most famous public interaction that there was a very fine person on only one side of that fist.
Anyway, it’s Republican National Convention week, though one wonders what the point of a convention is, when the GOP has finally, formally proclaimed, “Platforms are for Falwells, we’re a cult of personality now!” Shit, that’s the one thing these gaslighting shitweasels are willing to be honest about, and if that doesn’t elicit a mad cackle from your weary ass, I don’t know what will.
I decided to skip the first night of the proceedings, because I don’t hate myself, but luckily, any sense of FOMO I may experience doesn’t extend to watching angry white people screaming. Sorry, Metallica.
But looking at a few video clips today, wooooooooooo…as many others have pointed out, it looks like we found the kink in the cocaine supply chain. And as for Junior’s odious mate, the clearly-never-hinged-in-the-first-place Kimberly Guilfoyle, I mean, if there’s a swingable “I just want to see my high school drama teacher play Medea on meth and I’ll vote for whoever gives me that” demographic out there that none of us know about, she certainly sewed it up.
Oh, and everybody call child services on RNC speaker Abby Johnson, who posted a video to YouTube welcoming all the future racial profiling her adopted biracial son has to look forward to under the white supremacist police state. Someday, that poor child is going to find that video, and even the fucking Conways won’t have any advice for Abby and her deeply warped definitions of love and fairness.
A mob of maskless wingnuts violently stormed Idaho’s special legislative session, demanding immediate coronavirus infection, or something equally stupid, who gives a shit, because being asked to be a fucking adult in the name of public health is tyranny, apparently. Of course, it’s actually the rest of us chumps, with our silly sense of civic duty, who are trapped beneath the tyranny of this tantrum-throwing, covid-spreading minority, right? Oh, how that irony sends twisted little giggles echoing down the hallway of this apartment I STILL CAN’T FUCKING LEAVE.
I can’t leave, but I can have beer delivered, and for tonight at least, that will have to do. I really would be grateful if you’d check out that Action Guide, friends. See you soon, stay safe out there.
* Holy fuck. “Children of the Candy Corn.” How did that take me almost four years?