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.
The One With Brett Kavanaugh’s Junk
So, I enjoyed a much-needed weekend away from the headlines, partaking of good music and good company at this year’s Riot Fest. Regrettably, I did not take any drugs while I was there, so I’m forced to conclude all this news I’m catching up on today is tragically real, rather than just the shittiest trip ever. Fuck.
We’ve all watched Beto O’Rourke emerge as a defiant voice for gun control these last few weeks, (I guess a white supremacist terror attack in your beloved hometown gets under your skin) and naturally the gun nut crowd is displeased. So displeased in fact, that some swollen buttpimple by the name of Briscoe Cain, who, despite a few readily-apparent personality disorders, has become a member of the Texas House of Representatives, threatened to murder him on Twitter. I dunno, if I was arguing to keep assault weapons legal, I would probably avoid making public death threats, but then, I suppose I would also be as malicious, stupid, and crazy as Briscoe Cain.
Deep State Judicial Wizards have resurrected a previously-dismissed emoluments clause lawsuit against the Marmalade Shartcannon, raising hopes that the rule of law might still be a thing. Remember back when “hey, the presidency isn’t an invitation to leave a bribe jar on the edge of the Resolute desk, asshole” was a bipartisan position?
Because we live in hell, our Dolt President is justifying his war on energy-efficient light bulbs by complaining that they make him look orange. Setting aside the catastrophic price all life on Earth is being asked to pay to feed a petty narcissist’s vanity, let me just point out that it isn’t the lighting that makes him look like a saggy, dead-eyed, mound of bacon grease with the pissed-in straw from the bottom of a rabbit cage on top, either.
Princess Ivanka told a roomful of megarich GOP donor jagoffs she got her moral compass from her father, which likely means he initially grabbed it out of some other woman’s pussy, possibly even while Ivanka’s mom was pregnant with her, and gave it to her as an Xmas gift. Anyway, that’s not a compass, that’s a plunger that’s been used so much it’s falling to pieces.
One of the cool things about Fux Nooz (if you’re absolutely fucking awful, anyway) is that you can go on and say “Hey, remember all the super-racist shit that one terrorist mass-murderer said to justify his racist terrorist mass-murder? I think he was super-right about that stuff!” Job-Outsourcing Hitler Youth Tomi Lahren certainly took advantage of that opportunity, ranting about the need for all patriotic (white) Americans to keep small arsenals in order to shoot immigrants, and I’m sure it brings a smile to the El Paso terrorist’s face, seeing his beliefs parroted from such a potent platform.
But it’s not all waffles and stochastic terrorism over at Shart Garfunkel’s personal propaganda outlet, as a federal appeals court reinstated Seth Rich’s parents’ lawsuit, which will hopefully deter the right-wing shitbagosphere from further terrorizing grieving families with nutjob conspiracy theories designed to keep their rube audience in a state of perpetual frenzy. Looking at YOU, Alex Jones.
The parasitic Sackler family is using every arcane trick they can find to shuffle their money around in order to maintain the lavish lifestyle they’ve built for themselves atop an almost inconceivably high stack of American corpses. Whether they’re transferring hundreds of millions to shady Swiss bank accounts or trying to minimize damages by having their opioid-dispensing murder machine, Purdue Pharma, file for bankruptcy, these tar-souled demons are just looking for a little discount on their long-overdue accountability, is that really any different than clipping the Sunday coupons?
An intelligence community whistleblower filed a complaint last month, but the DNI insists on hiding it from the American people and Congress, because look, Donald Trump is having a hard enough time making the case for re-election just with the crimes we already know about. Similarly, Bronco Billy Barr says the House Judiciary Committee can’t see can’t see the grand jury files from the Mueller investigation because of whatever bullshit Calvinball rules he pulled out of his ass this time, because fuck you, we’re just running out the clock, whaddya gonna do about it, Nadler?
The Nazism is coming from INSIDE THE HOUSE at the Department of Homeland Security, where some mystery fuckhead apparently felt comfortable tagging the joint with a swastika. DHS. I guess I was hoping the first fascist graffiti in the executive branch would pop up somewhere comparatively less horrifying, like maybe on the outside of Scott Pruitt’s old soundproof wank booth, but I suppose I really ought to be used to disappointment (and atrocity) by now.
So I guess I have to talk about Brett Kavanaugh’s penis now. We keep learning terrible new things about this penis. Things that are as far from “harmless fun” as they could possibly be, whatever the New York Times says. It is a penis with a history of being shoved into the hands and faces of women who did not want Brett Kavanaugh’s penis shoved anywhere near them. It is a penis whose nefarious activities Brett Kavanaugh seems to have lied about, repeatedly, under oath, during his Senate confirmation hearings, which is a crime, and probably grounds for impeachment. It is a very bad penis indeed.
The Republican response to these new, credible, corroborated, allegations that absolutely fit a well-established pattern has been righteous indignation on behalf of the victims. Wait, that’s not quite right; I mean “righteous indignation on behalf of the abuser.” The GOP wants us to know the real (or “only”) victim here is the lying, drunken creep who has only ever wanted to use his position of privilege and power to make life shittier for all the little people.
Ted Cruz, taking a page from his Turd Emperor’s playbook, assaulted the media for conducting the investigation he and his stooge colleagues were so desperate to avoid. Lindsey Graham, still perplexed at women voters’ jarring shift away from his party in 2018, certainly isn’t going to let the “scurrilous accusations” of a common whore force him to do anything silly like “uphold the law.” And we can now add what I’ll call the “Shapiro Standard” to the lexicon, thanks to Creeptastic Manboy Ben Shapiro’s skeevy insistence that no sexual assault accusation is credible if the victim can’t carve a perfect facsimile of the attacker’s genitals from a block of marble.
Yeah, Kavanaughty is such a fundamentally dishonest person, you wouldn’t trust him with manager’s keys at a 7-11, but Republicans think it’s appalling to suggest he shouldn’t remain one of the most powerful human beings in the world. And Redactor General William Barr, looking to rub salt in America’s wounds, actually gave the team who shepherded the scummy little dirtbag’s confirmation through the Senate in spite of his crimes a prestigious award, usually reserved for badasss prosecutors who fuck up terrorists or organized crime rings, because turning the greatest democratic experiment in human history into a festering pile of rhino shit is the Republican Party’s motherfucking mission statement.
Following a drone attack on an oil processing facility in Saudi Arabia, the Offal in the Oval took to the Pneumatic Tweeting Machine to proclaim, “Fear not, America, I am dutifully perched by the phone, awaiting instructions from my foreign paymasters,” further vowing to blindly accept the findings of the same murderous thugs who concluded Jamal Khashoggi ran into a doorknob and dismembered himself. Obviously, when he says “America first,” that wasn’t meant to cover the military chain of command, which, according the Constitution, ends in Riyadh.
(Starting a new Middle East war ten minutes after defenestrating John Bolton seems tauntingly cruel, like buying a child the pony they’ve always wanted, only to cook it and eat it right in front of them.)
One of the signs of Hairplug Himmler’s rapid mental decline is the increased sloppiness of the gaslighting. In attacking the dastardly fake news media for reporting that he would merrily meet with Iran with nary a pre-condition, the Dotard seems to have forgotten about all of the times he said he would do just that, with own little sphincter of a mouth. In front of cameras. Or all the times he marched one of his toadies out to say so. Again, in front of cameras. Look, if you want to destroy the very idea of objective reality, put the fucking work in, you lazy lump.
Manhattan prosecutors have subpoenaed 8 years’ worth of Fat Q*Bert’s tax returns, and they’ve even ordered his lawyers to clean all the grubby, oddly-small, burger grease fingerprints off of ‘em before delivery. Anyway, we’re probably less than a week away from Old Shartful ordering the entire U.S. Army to protect his most desperately-guarded criminal secrets from the long arm of the law.
Milo Yagotnoplatformnomo has officially been evicted from a furry convention, continuing the most hilarious and well-deserved downward spiral in human history. I sincerely hope this Scumbag Humiliation show gets renewed for several more seasons.
And just like that, all the pleasant feelings from my riotous weekend have been washed away in a flood of news sewage. Sigh. It’s vital to renew the soul from time to time, but the work remains, doesn’t it, Resisters?
PS – You should click on this.