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 James Madison’s Flute
Friends, knowing what’s in store for you in the paragraphs to come….well, I hope you like white grievance, cuz you’re getting a heapin’ helpin’ of it tonight. The lunch lady is dispensing softboi whinging with an industrial-grade scoop this week. Plop. Plop. Plop. I apologize in advance.
The general consensus, amongst the least impressive specimens in circulation anyway, is that Our Culture Is Being Destroyed Because A Successful Black Woman Was Permitted to Touch This Flute Not One of Us Had Ever Heard Of Until Two Minutes Ago. Many a fit was pitched. MANY.
Somehow they’ve convinced themselves that when they melt down publicly over stuff like this, they’re merely blowing the faintest of dog whistles, ever so gently, rather than yelping like a Junior Klansman who got his robes caught in the rusty old lawnmower he was listlessly dry-humping.
Listening to Ben Shapiro whine about Lizzo playing James Madison’s flute is like being locked in a sauna with a fifty gallon drum filled with spoiled vanilla pudding that shrieks somehow. Why does anyone choose to live this way? Isn’t it exhausting? Don’t you just irritate the living shit out of yourself? See, the reason we know your culture sucks is that you’re incapable of emotionally navigating extremely minor, completely inconsequential changes to the world around you.
You don’t need to set your hair on fire every time they change the box butter comes in, y’know. You don’t need to show up armed to drag queen bingo. And if Mr. Potato Head happens to “go woke,” you always have the option of simply shrugging and moving on with your life, which I would argue is the only sensible response to fluctuations in the volatile world of potato toy branding.
It would almost be funny, were the wingnut media bubble not so liberally seasoned with voices like Roger “Let’s Get Right to the Violence” Stone’s. It’s a nifty little assembly line they’ve put together; the Shapiros and Hannitys rile ‘em up, out-and-out maniacs like Mike Flynn give ‘em a radicalizing shove with mad tirades about war-declaring governors, and before you know it, you’ve got Proud Boys and Oath Keepers and various ancillary asshats running about, rioting and firing nail guns.
You see a lotta headlines n’ thinkpieces these days, in our sickly, Cillizzafied, political press, about the profane competition taking place between Ron DeSantis and Greg Abbott, as they vie for squeals of glee from the bloodthirsty MAGA mob.
I’m told Kayleigh McEnany has pitched hosting a game show, as a lead-in to Tucker Carlson’s White Power Hour, where Republican governors construct dueling obstacle courses (at taxpayer expense, of course) for asylum seekers to cross, while staffers hurl slurs from the stands. It’ll be like American Ninja Warrior, only a little…y’know…Nazier.
‘Course, the Dotard’s mostly mad because these wannabes keep stealing his best ideas, though in his version, the federal government would deliberately transport “rapists and murderers” to “liberal cities” in order to “destabilize” them, which strikes me as a rather odd thing for a fellow to want to do to a country he’s president of, but I suppose the world looks different through spite-tinted glasses.
Anyway, you can’t get anywhere in Republican politics anymore without performative cruelty to the nonwhite. You can see the panic in Glenn Youngkin’s eyes as he tremblingly protests “Virginia is a border state,” which it absolutely isn’t. If Virginia were a border state, Glenn would have his own migrants to traffic, but he doesn’t, which is why he’s all pouty in the first place.
Now, Doug Mastriano is a fully post-dog whistle Republican candidate, unashamedly embracing professional anti-Semites like Andrew Torba and Jack Posobiec, as well as Christian nationalists like Lance Wallnau, all while daydreaming of prosecuting women for murder over abortions. Pennsylvania voters seem decidedly unenthusiastic about the prospect of being governed by their embarrassing racist uncle who got the whole family banned for life from Chili’s, thank god.
Arizona’s Kari Lake brings a lot more media savvy to many of the same terrifying ideas, so she’s polling better than Doug, which isn’t awesome. Is this an awkward time to mention that she hired an admitted heroin dealer to work on her campaign? And not just any heroin dealer, but one who plotted the assassination of an FBI informant?
Ted Cruz thought he might gin up a little attention for himself by being the lone vote on the Senate Rules Committee against the electoral count reform bill, but as such a well-known asshole, his braying faded into the background, as per usual. Sure is cute watchin’ the lil’ fella try, though!
By now, I’m sure you’re well acquainted with that familiar trope of the omnipresent Turd Reich tell-all genre: the “he was even weirder and dumber and racister than you knew” anecdote, something about Donald Trump trying to stick his finger in the King of Thailand’s ear, or the time he locked himself in a West Wing bathroom and, fearing starvation, devoured eleven rolls of toilet paper before the locksmith arrived, eight minutes later. Anyway, Maggie Haberman’s book was always gonna be the Oops! All Berries version of that.
We got new details this week about that almost incomprehensibly pathetic 2019 incident where the government tried to hide a whole-ass destroyer from President Shithead on an overseas trip, because he was feuding in his mind with the dead guy whose name was on the side of the boat, and I guess if I were in the market for a personality to build a cult around, I would rule out the debilitatingly insecure ones right off the bat.
Juggling both law and order as only a Republican attorney general can, Ken Paxton fled a subpoena server in a truck driven by his state Senator wife, probably straight to Aileen Cannon’s house.
I gotta get me one of them Judge Cannons, by the way. Looks pretty handy, owning your own, personal, private, federal judge…’specially one so willing to accept custom orders on short notice. “The law is whatever your tenth-rate strip mall legal team needs it to be, Mr. Trump, sir!” You could throw quite a party with power like that.
I guess Ginni Thomas professed her sincere, religious belief in the Big Lie to the January 6th commission, which triggers the constitutional right to overthrow the government, as every pigtailed schoolchild knows. Pretty cool this loon was texting Q shit to the President’s Chief of Staff during an attempted autogolpe, huh?
Speaking of SCOTUS, it’s always delightful when Sammy Alito adds his gasbag wail to the cacophony of wingnut grousing, isn’t it? Look, either take the speech rights, too, or learn to deal with criticism of your theocrat tyranny, you preening taintblister.
Sometimes I wonder how we fell so far down this shitty, shitty rabbit hole…then I see something like Chuck Todd “interviewing” Congresswoman Nancy Mace about her party’s intention to impeach President Biden, without it ever once occurring to either one to mention a potential justification for such an extreme measure, and…I get it. I mean, I weep uncontrollably for an hour or two, but I get it.
So, Mike Lee says it’s “overreach” for the FBI to arrest a “Catholic father of seven” accused of twice assaulting a 72-year-old abortion clinic volunteer, because Mike Lee’s political and religious beliefs align more closely with the attacker than the victim in this instance, and golly, what a fun, healthy, not-at-all-semi-fascist standard that is! Apropos of nothing, please enjoy this link to Evan McMullin’s campaign site.
J.R. Majewski, who you’ll remember from last week’s tale of stolen valor, may not be particularly good at lying, but you gotta give him an E for effort. This time next week, he’ll be claiming he led the Bin Laden raid, only the deep state won’t let anybody know. For any Republican strategists out there, this is another really useful cautionary tale about the dangers of selecting candidates based on the game show hosts they paint on their lawn.
Apparently, in the red states, if you’re really good at football, they let you steal millions of dollars from the poor now. Yeah, they just snatch the money away from the neediest and most vulnerable, and deliver it (by horse-drawn carriage no doubt) directly to wealthiest people they can find. Keep electing Republicans, Mississippi, it’s really working out.
The young men of Vlad Putin’s reborn Soviet Empire seem curiously uninterested in their glorious leader’s gracious invitation to get puréed by HIMARS in Ukraine, and are instead fleeing their homeland in droves, fancy that.
For whatever audience remained, Poots went ahead with his sad, petulant, completely illegal annexation ceremony, held at the Moscow branch of Four Seasons Total Landscaping, where he ranted like some incel trying to get Don Jr’s attention on Truth Social. It was all very impressive. Superpower shit. Truly.
(Man, imagine all the weird, weird shit Putin’s saying to Russian Maggie Haberman right now.)
Anyway, in the time it took you to scroll through this silliness, I’ve sold 783 “Ashli Babbitt Died For James Madison’s Flute” bumper stickers to the Don’t Fauci My Florida email list I bought off DeSantis. Rube-bilking is a growth industry, and daddy needs beer money.
I’ll see y’all in a week. You stay safe out there, there’re roving gangs of clowns trying to force-feed “rainbow fentanyl” to your kids, y’know.