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.
Some Week, Huh, Herschel?
Fellow frogs, I know it’s nice n’ cozy here in the boiling water, but do you ever hop out of the pot for a minute, just to take it all in? It happened gradually, day by day, but our status quo got all sorts of fucked up, didn’t it? 31 different flavors of batshit. Weren’t we gonna stop this shit from becoming normalized?
Like, Donald Trump casually lobbed a death threat at Mitch McConnell, and we couldn’t be bothered to so much as yawn. Death threat wrapped in a racist insult of his wife, in fact, and if Yertle even responded publicly, I haven’t seen it.
Ho hum. This is just life now, I guess. The 45th President of the United States and overwhelming frontrunner for the Republican Party’s presidential nomination in 2024 incites violence so frequently that it barely registers anymore. Just lumbers around his tacky-ass golf resort, stewing in resentment, occasionally recollecting the name of someone he’d like to see killed, and angrily mashing out a half-assed Will No One Rid Me Of This Troublesome Senate Minority Leader post on his failing social media site with those tiny, inadequate fingers of his. Very fun and normal.
Rick Scott, who is alive today solely because of the courage and sacrifice of the hundreds of Capitol Police officers who stood between him and the lynch mob the leader of his party unleashed last January 6th, could not bring himself to even lightly condemn this call to murder, feebly spinning it as merely a matter of an irascible old man’s penchant for teasing nicknames, which, in light of all the MAGA violence we’ve seen, and will surely continue to see in days to come, is absolutely fucking obscene.
“Hey, Senator, death threats sure are an unequivocal evil, to be condemned automatically, under all circumstances, amiright?” “Well now, slow down there, son, don’t put words in m’mouth!” Wait, what? When did the discourse take this merry turn? Did I miss a meeting?
Ted Cruz went a step further, lending the legitimacy and prestige of his office to one of Chaya Raichik’s vile “Libs of TikTok” dogpiles, you know, the ones that’ve led to all those death threats targeting children’s hospitals and doctors. Republicans’re gonna save a whole buncha money on polling and consultants once they realize MORE GAS FOR THE FIRE! MORE! is the only tactic they ever deploy anymore.
I guess I just miss the bipartisan consensus on the inherent undesirability of political violence. We should revisit that, y’know? Or we can just go on pretending that everything’s fine, because Susan Collins hasn’t made the QAnon Shaman her chief of staff…yet.
Incidentally, we see you slinking away, Ben Sasse. Hey, remember how you used to lecture the rest of us about your superior morals, and write whole books about your lofty principles, and then remember how you were tested, and how you failed, spectacularly and comprehensively, every single day of your life, for years? Hmmmmmmm? Well, I’ll remember for both of us.
In the devasting aftermath of Hurricane Ian, Ron DeSantis sprang into action like a man possessed, disrupting relief workers to stage a self-aggrandizing photo op, and railing madly against a pro-hurricane “national regime media” that apparently exists within the confines of his imagination, somewhere between the delusions of grandeur and the tentacle porn. I won’t bore you with sordid details about lives lost or property destroyed, god knows the Governor isn’t interested in any of that, but just on the level of theatre criticism, Operation: Make Ron-Ron Appear Presidential sustained heavy damage, though the Dukakis in Boots look is sure to resonate amongst the MAGA incel base.
Honestly, I can’t even keep up with all the Herschel Walker news anymore; the man is a goddamn whirlwind of hypocrisy, financing abortions and abandoning or abusing whatever kids slip through the cracks, yet still finding time for media appearances that make Tommy Tuberville look like Daniel Webster.
Now, y’all just completed the grinding, decades-long process of stealing bodily autonomy rights from tens of millions of Americans because you say this shit is murder. The murder of an innocent child, your words, not mine. Your (incessantly-bleated) belief, not mine. So Herschel Walker is a murderer now. That’s how this works. He took out a hit on his own kid. Sent a jaunty little get well card, and went about his regular, daily desecration of every other value you bloviating assclowns profess to hold. Surely he cannot be permitted to hold public office now. Surely.
The actual response from the “religious” right has been a resounding LET’S GET THIS BABY-KILLER TO THE SENATE, of course. Such naked, seething will to power is more honest than Rick Scott’s befuddled stammering, I suppose, but must it be wed to radical kakistocracy as well?
Throughout their primaries, the standard seemed to be And the Shittiest Among Ye Shall Lead, so the field we’re left with is like a police lineup from a Law & Order: SVU episode about some serial clown rapist. Republican electoral politics in 2022 is a shower drain clogged with white nationalists, insurrectionists, and valor thieves.
And I would dearly love to believe that there are conservative voters in Pennsylvania who’re down with a buffoonishly out-of-touch telequack but not a buffoonishly out-of-touch telequack who tortures and kills dogs, but I fear the terms of the partisan disagreement over what constitutes fitness for office are somewhat broader at this moment in American history.
This rampaging toddlerwad nominated 299 election deniers. Two hundred and ninety-nine. If a political party ran 299 candidates who claimed that ramming half a box of frozen pizza rolls up your ass every Tuesday at 4:45 prevented colon cancer, you’d say they’d gone bonkers, but we’re supposed to accept zealous converts to the Church of Horse Dewormer as reasonable people with valid grievances, instead of what they are, which is manic assholes looking for any excuse to throw the next first punch.
Let’s be honest about the state of the debate, folks. We’re not squabbling over tax rates or environmental regulations right now; the GOP’s lone, momentary nod to anything resembling policy was a brief, off-key, karaoke rendition of a couple of old Newt Gingrich ditties. No, it’s far freakier shit we’re considering nowadays. America’s going through one of those Rule of Law or Nah? phases, and some of the boys she’s bringing home lately have me concerned.
Stop the Steal’s Ali Alexander can barely conceal his lust for violently enforced Christian fascism, whereas Daily Wire weirdo Matt Walsh seems more interested in impregnating 16-year-old girls, but the unifying theme seems to be furious creeps pushing everyone else around, and I certainly see what the furious creeps get out of it, I’m just not sure why they expect the rest of us to acquiesce.
Like, the defense in the January 6th Oath Keepers trial that got underway this week amounts to “so, we expected to receive a magical Go Apeshit, Boys! order from President Crotchrot, and proceeded accordingly, even in the absence of such an order,” which is pure, fascist Calvinball.
But that’s the demand MAGA makes of the world: license to lash out based on whatever dipshit delusion happens to seize hold of your broken brain. “You can’t make me take a vaccine, I decide what science is!” “I took those nuclear secrets because I decided they’re mine!” “I invaded Ukraine because I decided it’s mine!” “We get to violently overturn elections that don’t go our way because pizzagate Ashli Babbitt deep state Hunter Biden’s laptop fUrRY kIDs aRe SHiTtiNg iN bOXeS!!!!”
Society cannot function this way, people. Obviously. Obviously. Maybe if kids were actually shitting in boxes, some jarring corrections would indeed be required, but kids are not shitting in boxes, no matter what the Republican candidate for Minnesota Governor, Dr. (DOCTOR!) Scott Jensen says. And the 2020 election was not stolen. And no one is going to put fentanyl in your shitty kid’s Halloween sack. And sorry, Doug Mastriano, your crusade to rid schools of the scourge of pole dancing has never, for a single passing instant, been necessary.
Your problems don’t deserve solutions, because they’re not real. We can’t spend our precious time, energy, or resources dealing with the made-up shit you maniacs fling at the walls all day. We have enough problems here in the real world, perhaps the largest of which is the embarrassing, culture-wide tantrum you little turds insist upon subjecting the rest of us to, here in the otherwise placid Denny’s of life.
Reality’s been a problem for right-wing shitbirds all over the world. Putin’s losing territory on the ground in Ukraine quicker than he can annex it on paper, and now the bloodthirsty blogger class he cultivated has turned on him, because I guess they don’t read Frankenstein in Russian, either. Still, something about watching Vlad flounder seems to trigger MAGA’s instinctive loser-worship, because they’re circling the wagons around him like he paid to abort his kid or somethin’.
President Biden announced he would pardon a bunch of low-level marijuana offenders, and Tom Cotton got so sad at all the unnecessary suffering that’ll now be avoided that he had to head over to Dr. Oz’s place to torture puppies for a couple hours.
The Deposed Dotard is still hanging onto stolen classified documents, by the way. And he’s suing CNN, which I’m sure will go exactly as well as his previous legal escapades. I would love to’ve made hilarious jokes about these developments, but I plum ran out of time this week, Herschel ran me ragged.
Good lord. By Grabthar’s Hammer, I need a fucking beer. Well, back into the pot, everybody. Stay safe out there…safe as you can, anyhow.