Well, the Iowa caucuses are finally upon us, and barring a Hail Mary from the weather manipulation wing of the Haley campaign, the babbling rapist who spends his days meandering from courtroom to courtroom, pausing periodically to demonstrate, for reasons which are difficult to discern, that he doesn’t understand how magnets work, looks likely to emerge victorious.

Chris Christie finally threw in the towel, and if the Never-Trumpers’ wistful eulogies overpraised his sycophant-to-very-brave-indeed-teller-of-truths conversion, well, I’m inclined to be indulgent. I doubt it’s biologically possible to contemplate what’s left of the Republican primary field without triggering a gag reflex.

Like, did Chris Cillizza even bother picking three winners and five losers from Ronnie n’ Nikki’s Aggressively Inconsequential Bicker-Off (For Distant Second Place)? Shoot, they lost the rube ratings war to Fox’s Grandpa Shits His Pants Hour with Martha MacCallum & Brett Baier.

And considering Donnie Dotard’s been stumbling around, urging bedlam and wishing for a stock market crash, while refusing to sign an oath to forsake the violent overthrow of the government, in addition to demanding legal immunity to assassinate political opponents at taxpayer expense, it sure woulda been nice if someone, anyone in the Family Values Party™️ could’ve obstructed the fascist bastard’s ascent for once.

Yeah, woulda been lovely. But no, if you want anything done in this country, you can’t send a Republican. We knew this.

I feel like we might have success running a Willie Horton-type ad, only with Roger Stone. “Here’s a recording of a dude Donald Trump pardoned, a known associate of domestic terror groups, plotting the assassination of two Congressmen.” Everyone still agrees that’s bad…right, America?

Rejuvenated by the holiday recess, Mike “Moses” Johnson strode onto the House floor, threw open the curtains, took a deep, invigorating breath…and then Chip Roy leapt from the shadows to attack his groin with a claw hammer.

I wouldn’t wish the Freedumb Caucus on anyone. In my culture, “Chip Roy” is a sort of bogeyman who lives in a hut on chicken legs deep within the Heritage Foundation, and creeps into the bedrooms of naughty little Speakers when they praise Hitler-quoting game show hosts.

You will no doubt be shocked, shocked to learn Paul Gosar staffs his congressional office with neo-Nazi interns. Since this is hardly Paul’s first offense, he’ll surely be disciplined by House GOP leadership, especially that famous anti-anti-Semitism crusader, Elise Stefanik.

Or perhaps Elise is too busy referring to violent, white nationalist Capitol rioters as “hostages” on television. Elise is auditioning to be a certain cognitive-test-passer’s running mate, y’see. Well, when you’re fleeing for your life from an incel with a nail gun, and all you get is a text saying “so what?” don’t come bitchin’ to me.

Poor, dumb Jimmy Comer held another of his sad, self-immolating “hearings,” and y’know, I thought I’d be sick of ‘em by now, but I’m not. Watching a malicious nitwit step on the same rake over and over turns out t’be endlessly entertaining. I’m already looking forward to the next one.

Clay Higgins hopped on the Ghost Bus to whatever meth den houses Tucker Carlson’s show these days, to assert the Capitol Riot was caused by more than 200 FBI infiltrators, and then he took the Ghost Bus back to the U.S. Capitol. Where he works. As a Congressman. In case you were wondering why the Lincoln Memorial has been crying tears of blood.

Some uppity journalist spoiled protofascist nepo baby Jay Ashcroft’s fantasy of kicking Joe Biden off the ballot in Missouri, no doubt earning a slot on Jay’s personal version of the fantasy gulag roster every aspiring American autocrat carries around in his head.

The High Priests of DeSantistan finally liberated the children in their charge from the spiritually corrupting influence of…the dictionary! It’s inspirational, what a small band of puritanical creeps can achieve, all while maintaining a wide variety of thrilling, criminal lifestyles on the side.

By the way, comrades, I assume everybody got the email, but just in case, quick reminder that Operation Jade Helm III: The Helmening has been indefinitely postponed, now that our most sinister, most powerful Deep State agent, Taylor Swift, has been unmasked. And we would’ve gotten away with it, too, were it not for the raw journalistic skill of that wily Jesse Watters.

That said, while I certainly support ascendant American fascism antagonizing a beloved pop star’s massive, zealously loyal fanbase, I don’t know how many “I guess somebody needs to SHAKE IT OFF yo ho!” press releases I’m going to be able to endure.

Several of MAGA Nation’s least favorite people, including Jack Smith and Judge Tanya Chutkan, have been targeted for swatting in recent weeks, because a fun, easy thing you can do in America right now is have a paramilitary strike team sent to somebody’s front door to terrorize and maybe kill them. Say, perhaps that system could use a few tweaks.   

Elon Musk hired Tulsi Gabbard to create content for his flailing vanity hate site, lending credence to recent WSJ reporting about his excessive drug use. We can’t be more than six months away from the scene in the movie where he locks himself inside his private bowling alley to personally hand-delete the accounts of everyone who ever mocked him and nobody sees him for weeks at a time but the butler who delivers the diapers and pizza rolls.

Well, seems Fox kicked Mike Lindell’s ads off the air because he can’t pay his bills, so now he’s whining about getting “cancelled.” Has the pillow money finally run out? Gonna pitch a reality show where broke-ass Mike gets an apartment with equally broke-ass Rudy Giuliani.

Just a heads-up, I will be turning the blog over to Shed Mouse for the foreseeable future, in order to spend more time with my beer fridge. If you’d like to support the blog, you can always sign up on the email list, follow @john_luzar on the aforementioned vanity hate site, or even donate to the beer fund, now accepting Venmo, PayPal, and Cash App. Oh, and you can pre-order my comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation, that’d be cool.

One way or another, stay safe out there, till we meet again…