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.
Spread My Ashes at Four Seasons Total Landscaping, Dammit!
Forgive me if I’m a little off my game tonight, friends; I just feel a bit…I dunno, it’s hard to describe. It’s a vaguely familiar sensation, but I can’t quite place it. It isn’t dread, or disgust, or outrage, or any of the negative emotions one simply accepts as part of the burden of being alive in 2020, just this odd, tickling feeling. Haven’t been able to shake it since, oh, since about midday Saturd-OH HOLY CRAP, IT’S HOPE!
Because after an interminable, malingering cliffhanger that seemed to warp the very laws of time, the election was finally, FINALLY called for Biden, and advertising slots on cable news networks receded to saner levels.
Obviously, we can’t completely rule out the Surprise Desperate Coup Attempt until Joe n’ Kamala are safely sworn in, but aside from a few fanatic dead-enders, and Don Jr., who’ll surely never be able to pay off his coke dealer without access to the U.S. Treasury, institutional Republicans seem content to distract the Deposed Dotard with doomed lawsuits and just enough public support to avoid the dreaded Mean Tweet, the mere threat of which reduces allegedly-powerful Republicans to quivering piles of treacherous gelatin.
Because a truly terrifying chunk of the GOP is so thoroughly brainwashed that they genuinely believe their beloved Hemorrhoid Emperor is being unjustly overthrown via a fraudulent election. And even now, with history’s eyes wide open, Mitch McConnell and his craven crew cannot muster enough love of country to even lightly douse the flames of fascism raging through their base; no, if it means clinging to power for another term or so, destroying the nation’s faith in democracy itself is a price they’re only too willing to (make the rest of us) pay.
So yes, Chief-Thuglomat-for-Now Mike Pompeo enjoyed his little “joke” about the transition, but we all know he practices his wee wannabe Hitler speeches in the mirror every morning while he ties his tie. He’ll network his way around the country now, to see how many donors he can get to bite on his Trump Without the Baggage hook. He won’t be alone.
Of course, within Shartopia, it’s not all sparkle-eyed dreams of the Reich to Come: Corey Lewandowski has been hospitalized with vertigo after hours spent repeatedly checking to see whether his refrigerator was indeed running, as the Treasonweasel campaign’s pathetic “voter fraud hotline” experienced precisely the fate literally any thinking being could have foreseen.
Even as their legal strategy to cling to power struggled to attain the level of farce (don’t worry, I’m getting there), the Turd Family Robinshart effortlessly evolved their grift with a degree of speed and skill one wishes they had thought to apply to the MOTHERFUCKING PANDEMIC, swiftly passing the hat around for donations to fuel their futile legal flailing, ASTERISK sixty cents out of every dollar go towards retiring the campaign’s debt, THANKS RUBES.
I’m starting to believe the Children of the Candy Corn understand Gameshow Göring is simply stealing from them, and that they’re perfectly happy to have their pockets picked, in the same way a gambler doesn’t truly mind losing another week’s paycheck; he bought one more night at the casino, which was all he really wanted, deep down.
Mendaciously claiming credit for the welcome news that Pfizer had achieved a major breakthrough in their development of a coronavirus vaccine must’ve sent nostalgic smiles circulating through the West Wing’s defiled halls; why, it seems like only yesterday they were merrily bumming a ride on the Obama economy, grateful the purloined proximity to prosperity still shielded them from the consequences of their international trade blunders.
Personally, I don’t think introducing new villains is necessary, or even appropriate at this point in the story, but nevertheless, here is Emily W. Murphy with yet another fresh turd for the punch bowl. Emily is the proverbial one-job haver in the popular YOU HAD ONE JOB meme, and that job is to sign the letter allowing the Biden transition team to begin the work of cleaning out the Augean stables. Like the giddy little fascist bureaucrat the holder of this office under Trump was always going to be, Emily is refusing to sign the letter, so now everybody has to just stand around, in a room overflowing with shit, wasting time.
Now yes, this is exactly the sort of childishness we’ve come to expect from the Manchurian Manchild and his team, but there are real national security risks here, so maybe we’ll get lucky, and this leveled-up Kim Davis will stumble accross some sort of magic potion that helps her get the fuck over herself.
The petulant Pentagon purge is underway, with Defense Secretary Mark Esper defenestrated alongside several other officials and replaced by, I assume, Devin Nunes’ butt acne at this point. I figure they’re most likely done tear-gassing Americans in front of churches by now, though I suppose we can’t rule out a “Well, I just nuked London, have fun!” note awaiting Smilin’ Joe in the Oval.
But seriously, I’m seeing that we needn’t fear a military coup here, it’s likely just a bit of frenzied document shredding to make things harder for the investigations to come, though I believe it is sub-optimal, health-of-democracy-wise, that I do indeed draw comfort from this distinction.
I hope Joe has the White House boiled before moving in, however, because damned if that butthole frat house didn’t manage to sneak in one last coronavirus outbreak, apparently at their own election night party, just for extra comeuppance, this time snagging Mark Meadows, David Bossie, and “Dr.” Ben Carson. Truly, the best people.
Budding mini-Trumps Kelly Loeffler and David Perdue launched their Senate runoff campaigns by reminding the electorate of their manifest unfitness for office, demanding the firing of Georgia’s Secretary of State for the nigh-unforgivable crime of counting the people’s votes fairly, and if you’re having trouble reconciling this with the GOP’s catchy new “count every legal vote” slogan, may I suggest you pick up your official Shower Cap Secret Decoder Ring? The one that’s just a cheap piece of plastic that says REPUBLICANS LIE? See, you get it now.
And now I see William Barr is leaving the door open for one last stab at redacting American democracy once and for all, legitimizing Tangerine Idi Amin’s latest autocrat shitfit with an official Justice Department investigation. Y’know how when Dorothy gets to the Scarecrow and she’s all weepy because she’ll miss him most of all? It’s like the precise mathematical opposite of that with you, Bill.
But enough crap, let’s move on to the good stuff, shall we?
As expected, the weekend saw the launch of the heavily-anticipated Fall of an Idiot Death Cult postmortem genre, which I intend to gorge myself upon in Roman fashion. It’s going to be a circular firing squad inside the hazardous waste bin behind an oncology clinic.
I’m optimistic that watching the rats rip each other to shreds, even as the lice and maggots that live on the rats in turn rip themselves to shreds, will provide sufficient entertainment to carry me through this long winter of quarantine. Still, with stories like “Kimberly Guilfoyle Offers World’s Most Terrifying Lap Dance in Exchange For Donor Buxx already dropping, I worry we may’ve peaked early.
I confess, I did not expect Rudy Giuliani, of all available dirtbags, to ride to America’s rescue in her hour of need, but while the tiny-fisted tyrant at the other end of his leash trembled in a piss-soaked corner of his bunker, Rudy, as though possessed by the very God of Catharsis, set forth to deliver unto a weary nation the eviscerating public degradation of Trumpism we deserved, dammit.
And so, next to a roadside crematorium and the saddest sex shop this side of a Todd Solondz film, in the company of a known sex criminal, Amerikkka’s Mayor forever transformed the parking lot behind Four Seasons Total Landscaping* into Mecca For People Who Like Watching Fascist Assholes Humiliate Themselves.
I like to think the inevitable Hollywood prestige pic based on these batguano-crusted days will end at this point precisely. Giuliani’s punctured ramblings about courts and networks fading out as the credits roll, pausing periodically to note the no-doubt-disappointing eventual prison sentences of the chief collaborators.
In conclusion, I’d just like to say GEORGIA GEORGIA GEORGIA GEORGIA GEORGIA, because that’s where your head should be until January 5th.
*In the interest of honest chroniclin’, it must be said that yes, in this most desperate hour, the President of the United States of America had selected as his lead attorney a man who was incapable of distinguishing a small landscaping company from a luxury hotel. They were stupid, stupid men, and times, as I have often expressed along this journey, were cray.