Are we absolutely certain it was heat that killed all those cows in Kansas? Did anybody check to see if any of them had, like, a Twitter account? Cellphone with a couple news apps? Because it’s been a lot lately, y’know? Just…a lot.

Well, the second week of the Capitol Riot hearings kicked off with the image of a shitfaced Rudy Giuliani, stumbling around on election night, leaking god knows how many bodily fluids, in search of any potential collaborators who might’ve been feelin’ a little DTI, (that’s “down to insurrect” in the parlance of the modern young person) and degenerated into primal, gibbering delirium from there.

As you’ll recall, the whole bath-salts-on-rye-toast legal theory animating the Stoopid Coo was the attempt to recast then-Vice President Pence as some sort of human Get Out of Jail Free card, or a lamp you could rub (not in front of Mother, of course) to get three treasonous wishes.

And no, that does not make a metric lick of sense, but given Donald Trump’s well-established lack of regard for human life, and a management style based on elevating whatever turd-gargling moron happens to tell him what he wants to hear, the dumbest of all possible constitutional crises was probably inevitable.

Leading the charge were the likes of John Eastman and Jeffrey Clark, subpar bureaucrat types driven to high crimes by the intoxicating prospect of ruling America forever. They fully understood what they were attempting was immoral, and illegal, and would surely lead to widespread unrest and violence, but, y’know…YOLO.

Ol’ Johnny E certainly left the digital paper trail of a man who expected to see the end of the rule of law in the United States. Lordy. How long till we learn Ginni Thomas had a few Oath Keepers over for an afternoon of cucumber sandwiches, bridge, and bomb-making?

For a man who couldn’t pass a third grade social studies test, Eastman was actually quite astute in his assessment that what John Eastman needed after weeks of sustained treachery was a presidential pardon, because hey, even a stopped clock. He didn’t get one, by the way…you gotta camp out for that shit, hoss.

On the grassroots level, plans were equally Gohmertian, as the shit-from-unusually-stupid-bats plan outlined in the Proud Boys’ “1776 Returns” document demonstrates. I’m endlessly thankful for the American fascist’s cerebral deficiencies; sometimes I wonder if our best tools for derailing dictatorship won’t ultimately prove to be unheeded warnings on hair dryers and chainsaws and whatnot.

Even with so much historic fuckery to document, the January 6th committee still made time to remind Cult45 that their cheap, grifter god pockets every dollar they donate, with nary a stray nickel set aside for the restoration of American greatness, but we’re talking about the most bilkable creatures to e’er walk the Earth; they’d only spend it on doomsday food buckets and pro-lynching t-shirts.

Georgia Congressthug Barry Loudermilk has changed his story regarding the tour of the Capitol he led last January 5th so many times, you’d think he was auditioning for a gig with the Uvalde PD. I believe the latest-but-by-no-means-last version asks us to believe the charming fellow who recorded himself threatening multiple Congressmen wasn’t conducting reconnaissance, he was merely a wall sconce aficionado. We’re not all docile death cultists, Barry.

Seditious attorney Jenna Ellis joined Doug “Nice Swing State Ya Got There, Be a Shame If Anybody Imposed Christian Nationalism On It” Mastriano’s gubernatorial campaign, and my, my, isn’t Josh Shapiro looking all handsome lately, with his well-tailored suits and lack of authoritarian tendencies?

Four opposition researchers working for Raphael Warnock’s Senate campaign died from exhaustion this week, and at press time, it is believed as many as 1 in 12 Americans may be Herschel Walker’s unclaimed children.

It must also be noted that Herschel has never been an FBI agent, or a law enforcement officer of any kind; and most of us haven’t, I suppose, but then, most of us aren’t running for federal office on a resume conjured from the self-aggrandizing daydreams of a domestic abuser. Other Walker claims, for example that he invented the spatula, and taught Tony Hawk to skate, are probably legit, though.

But yeah, the 2022 GOP primary season continues to unfold like a swarm of plague rats drowning in a Lollapalooza porta potty.

More than 100 of the Party o’ Lincoln’s nominees spout the Deposed Dotard’s debunked election lies, including candidates for the very offices tasked with overseeing elections. See, Americans’re actually totally unified in striving to learn from the mistakes of January 6th…there’s just a bit of a partisan gap on what, precisely, those mistakes were.

And if you want a fun little teaser of the world our elephantine countrymen hope to build, look no further than Otero County, New Mexico, where the elected commission/canvassing board, led by convicted Capitol Rioter/self-professed “Cowboy for Trump” Couy Griffin, refused to certify recent primary election results, just cuz. Just cuz they’re crazy people who’ve been handed a little power to abuse, and they’re testing the fences to see how much they can get away with.

Oh, and yet another QAnon adherent, Mayra Flores, has been elected to Congress, so expect Marjorie Taylor Greene’s bill banning federal funding for Jewish space lasers to pick up steam, unless the deep state intervenes.

Flores will fit right in with caucusmate Greg Steube, who is apparently caveman-at-a-flume-park-level stupefied by the tricksy images on the magic talking television box, and wouldn’t it be neat if our elected leaders were better at discerning reality than house cats?

Lord knows, reality is hard on a wingnut, whether he’s dying on a ventilator despite a bellyful of ivermectin, or throwing an unhinged, juvenile, misogynistic, career-ending shitfit in a Wisconsin courtroom, defending the Big Lie. Not just their policies, but their delusions must be granted supremacy now, you see.

I know the Constitution doesn’t explicitly guarantee liberty from the tyranny of the imaginary, but that’s only because the Founding Fathers failed to adequately grasp the bottom limits of human intelligence. If you’re feeling up for a peek into the mouth of madness, check out WaPo’s profile of a woman who calls herself “Burnitdown,” a diehard MAGA drone who has, for years, dutifully poured every proffered drop of poison into her skull, until her brain was functionally pickled. And now she’s active in local politics. Sleep tight.

Speaking of conservative activists, 31 of the sorriest specimens of what passes for manhood on the alt-right helpfully bundled their subpar asses together in the back of a U-Haul, so law enforcement could arrest them all together, before they could execute their planned attack on a Pride parade in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.

And though this latest white supremacist terror plot (my punch card filled up again, remind me to redeem my free slushee) occurred in the middle of an incessant barrage of anti-LGBTQ fear-mongering by prominent Republicans ranging from Ron DeSantis to Ken Paxton to the screeching heads of Fux Nooz, it’s unfair to draw the obvious conclusion, because CANCELCULTURELAMESTREAMMEDIACRITICALRACETHEORY, and you can’t deny the logic in that.

Golly, the Children of the Candy Corn must’ve busted out the good meth, such were their wild, triumphal writhings at the news that Anthony Fauci tested positive for Covid. I guess when JFK Jr. keeps no-showing your resurrection parties, you learn to settle.

Meanwhile, DeSantis, in an act of almost incomprehensible madness and malice, made his government an unnecessary obstacle between parents and the life-saving coronavirus vaccine, now that it’s finally been approved for use in young children. Death cult politics sure get wacky, huh? “Fuck your kids’ health, Daddy’s got brainwashed imbeciles to pander to!”

Montana Governor Greg Gianforte pulled a Cancun Cruz, and left the miserable plebs, excuse me, “his constituents” to rot during a flooding crisis, while he vacationed abroad, no doubt in search of exotic new journalists to assault. Republicans have a thousand ways to tell their voters, “I do not care if you live or die screaming,” but of course, said voters are famous for their feces-clogged ear canals.

Alas and alack, the official pillow of sedition will no longer be available for purchase on the shelves of your local Walmart, but on the bright side, watching Mike Lindell melt down hasn’t gotten old yet.

Well, I imagine everyone’s barf bag is more or less full by now, so I’ll sign off here. Stay safe out there, m‘loves. Like the old folk saying goes, “may no U-Hauls stuffed with armed white nationalists cross your path.”