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.
This is Totally Not Mitt Romney’s Secret Blog, WINK WINK
Hey there Shower Captives, apologies for missing our longstanding Monday night date; sometimes even bathrobed superheroes need a mental health day, and anyway, I knew the Screeching Madness Void would be right there waiting for me when I came back, it’s not like shit’s getting any less cray out there. Let’s do this.
Probably the first time you ever heard of Republican Congressthing Francis Rooney was last week when he said he could kinda maybe sorta support impeachment, and the second time was one short day later, when he announced his retirement. “My first halting steps towards basic human decency and belief in the rule of law obviously render me entirely incompatible with my political party, which now serves solely as a shield for an organized crime ring,” Rooney proclaimed, before spinning, counterclockwise, three times, chanting “I am anathema”, spitting on a copy of one of Bill O’Reilly’s novels, and accepting the ritual Excommunication Wedgie from Kevin McCarthy.
Headlines tell us Redactor General William Barr is expanding his investigation into, and let’s be completely honest about this, long-ago debunked, squirrel-poop-nutty, conspiracy theories about the origins of what would become the Mueller investigation, which are, here in the real fucking world, publicly known. It’s like calling for a probe of all the trees in the forest, in search for undocumented, cookie-making, elves, ten minutes after you toured the floor of the Keebler factory.
With Andrew McCabe, we’ve already seen Bronco Billy’s Do”J” toy with openly fabricating charges, and he’s been touring the world asking foreign governments to provide evidence for something known to be completely fake, but I’m sure he doesn’t spend his days fantasizing about just forging incriminating documents, right? I’m probably worrying too much; it’s not like we’re talking about the sort of people who would withhold foreign aid in exchange for fabricated dirt on domestic political foes or anyOH HANG ON.
Barr is also said to be targeting former CIA Director James Brennan, at his scumfuck boss’ insistence, in a not-at-all-terrifying attempt at retribution against a respected law enforcement official for, y’know, actually enforcing the law rather than bending it to a narcissistic sociopathic wannabe tyrant’s demented will. Crooks hate cops, obviously, but maybe crooks shouldn’t be allowed to appoint their own cops, not to get all controversial on ya.
Basically, Attorney General Barr appears to be spending his days doing everything in his distressingly-substantial power to turn the United States of America into a fascist nation, under the tiny-fisted rule of Donald Trump, and honestly, I can’t say I’m a fan.
The Velveeta Vulgarian stands accused of flipping the bird at two female astronauts who gently fact-checked him in front of the whole world (no, he can’t even accomplish something as simple as a congratulatory phone call without fucking it up, for he is a failure at all things great and small), but I dunno, I think he’s earned the benefit of the HAHAHAHAH had you going for a moment, didn’t I? Anyway, fuck him for the treason and the concentration camps and the dumbass trade war, but fuck him for this, too.
Despite having watched numerous Merchant/Ivory films and several seasons of Downton Abbey, I’ll still be fucked six ways from Sunday if I can figure out what’s going on with Boris Bonehead and his Blundering Brexit Brigade. I did like the bit where he was required by law to seek an extension from the EU, so he sent the letter but refused to sign it, because right-wing populism is 98% about being a petty bish.
Coming to theatres this Xmas, Mick Mulvaney in…The Jag Who Knew Too Much! Yes, the Jerk of All Trades is on the hot seat, on account of his “Hellz YEAH we extorted Ukraine and are there any other crimes you’d like us to confess to? Seriously just go through the Unsolved Mysteries tape library, we did ALL that shit” press conference, but some members of Team Treasonweasel’s ever-shrinking inner circle are worried he’d make a dangerous enemy, on account of having had a front row seat to all the crimes and whatnot.
Fearing that the decision to award himself a fatty no-bid contract to host the G7 summit at his Miami Carnival of Gaucheness/General Shithole would prove to be the one-block-too-many that would finally topple his Jenga Tower of Crime into a pile of bipartisan support for impeachment and removal, the Candycorn Skidmark backed down, but not without a Hungry-Man-sized portion of whinging victimhood on the way out.
Mulvaney suggested Il Douche’s instinctive impulse towards corrupt self-enrichment manifested simply because “he still considers himself to be in the hospitality business,” as though such a thing would be some sort of charming foible, rather than a worrisome combination of irresponsibility and mental decline. “Sometimes he likes to pretend he’s a puppy during his security briefings, and if the Joint Chiefs won’t scratch his belly, he’ll just shit right there on the floor. And guess who gets to clean THAT up?”
Look, I know you bleeding-heart libtards have hurt fee-fees over Hairplug Himmler abandoning the Kurds to Turkey’s murderous ethnic cleansing campaign, but it was a necessary sacrifice, in order to bring the troops home from Syria!
And by “home,” I mean Iraq.
And by “home” I also mean Saudi Arabia, where they’ll guard the Saudi royal family’s financial interests, as little more than mercenaries.
Oh, and “home” also seems to mean “other places in Syria,” because we’ll risk American lives for oil fields, but not for faithful allies.
The Kurds are, understandably, rather displeased at being abandoned to the slaughter, responding to Tangerine Idi Amin’s betrayal with precisely the anger you’d expect; I guess there’s just something about children with chemical burns from white phosphorous that pushes politeness down your priorities list a few spots.
But Marco Rubio will not tolerate such insults to the treacherous American empire! Can’t you just be ethnically cleansed in respectful silence? Anyway, if there’s a Bible quote about manners-shaming a long-oppressed people facing genocidal violence after getting backstabbed by those they’d bled alongside for years, I’m sure Marco will have tweeted it out by the time you read this.
Seems Hillary Clinton burrowed so deep under Tulsi Gabbard’s skin that Bashar al-Assad’s favorite “Democrat” went back on Tucker Carlson’s White Power Hour to whine n’ moan some more about the insidious anti-Tulsi conspiracy, blah blah blah. If I were Gabbard, I’d address this conspiracy at its roots, because there absolutely are nefarious forces preventing her ascent to the Democratic presidential nomination; her horrifying anti-gay record, her long history of promoting murderous dictators, and, oh yeah, her disturbing tendency to lend support to white nationalist television hosts. The conspiracy is YOU, Tulsi. Kindly go away forever. (PS please donate to her primary challenger, who is actually, y’know, a Democrat.)
Turns out Mitt Romney has been maintaining a secret lurker twitter account, under the name, “Pierre Delecto,” to experiment with thoughts and comments he’s too scared to utter publicly, from his day-job perch as a (checks notes) United States Senator, and I’m starting to think we maybe don’t keep our elected representatives busy enough. Willard has been a pretty good sport about it, most likely because reporters have yet to discover his third account, which he uses primarily to accumulate material to satisfy to his anime character foot fetish.
(If you’re curious, no, I am not Mitt Romney, you only THINK you hear the telltale echoes of the caps from beer bottles periodically clinking in the corner of a car elevator.)
And the Marmalade Shartcannon did one of those creepy televised Cabinet “meeting” things he’s so fond of, where the various secretaries take turns fellating him (Ben Carson is no Reince Priebus in that department, but he tries his best), and then he whines and lies and brags about things he hasn’t actually done. Highlights this time included an attempt to paint Obama as Hawt 4 Kim Jong-un, who just wasn’t that into him (but loves him some dotard), and also the bit about the “phony Emoluments Clause” which is not even slightly phony, and is in fact much more real than, for example, his Big Dumb Border Wall. Anyway, the journey from where we are today to “you and your phony freedom of speech” or “this so-called right to a fair trial” is terrifyingly short, even accounting for rush hour traffic.
Justin Trudeau was re-elected as Prime Minister of Canada, though now in a coalition government. At least Melania has something she can look forward to, assuming there’s another summit or two before her crime family gets evicted from the People’s House.
And everybody’s mad that Government Cheese Goebbels compared his imminent impeachment to a “lynching.” It’s especially upsetting since his situation is really the opposite of lynching; he’s committed a fuckton of crimes, and there’s an angry mob of racist white people trying to help him get away with everything.
Lindsey Graham, predictably, has his Turd Emperor’s back on the whole “despicable lynching analogy” thing, and don’t you sometimes wonder whether or not Shart Garfunkel ever lashes out like this just to watch his pet Senators jump through hoops? “He said asking for his tax returns is worse than the Holocaust?” whimpers Graham, “By golly Adam Schiff is running a gas chamber over there in the House!”
Wins have been hard to come by for Team Shart since the Midterm Blue Wave Electoral Spanking, so they’re reduced to using the full force of the White House communications shop to trumpet their heroic triumph over the New York Times and the Washington Post, as they defiantly cancel their subscriptions! When they write the history books, surely this courageous episode merits a whole chapter.
Heh. Wonder if WaPo’s “season of weakness” piece had anything to do with Donnie Dotard’s sudden fury? Look, just because the cheap thug dictator of a fifth-rate power like Turkey threw your juvenile, ketchup-stained, letter in the trash and chased the U.S. military out of Syria so damn fast we had to double back to bomb our own bases doesn’t mean you’re weak, does it?
As support for impeachment and removal grows by the day, President Crotchrot probably thinks they should be polling more ISIS fighters, since they’re basically the only group that actually approves of his recent actions. The U.S. manufacturing sector may be in recession, but the apocalyptic terror cult business is booming, bay-bee!
What do you get for the autocrat who has everything? Somebody else’s hard-won homeland, apparently. Yes, Russia and Turkey are merrily, publicly, divvying up the Syrian region recently occupied by the Kurds, while the U.S. military retreats in shame. And it ain’t even Vlad’s birthday.*
With all the blather about “bringing the troops home” exposed as restaurant-quality horseshit, it turns out the United States got significantly less than nothing out of this “deal,” basically the Manchurian Manchild woke up one morning and decided to strengthen several of our nation’s rivals and enemies for…fuck, we don’t even know why, do we? It’d almost be comforting to find out Erdoğan bribed him with piss hookers and cold fast food; that’s a vastly preferable alternate narrative to “blithering nincompoop destabilizes Middle East on turd-brained whim,” because these are the sorts of evaluations we’re forced to make, here in Hell.
Well, the acting U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine testified before the impeachment inquiry today, and if you want to know how it went, just give “William Taylor damning” a quick google. In a 15-page opening statement and follow-up testimony, Taylor said there was enough quid pro quo to fill up Donnie Two-Scoops’ ridiculous balloon pants, so much quid pro quo even Dr. Ronny Jackson couldn’t pretend there was merely 239 pounds of it.
The Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor held up military aid to a vulnerable ally on the condition that the fucking PRESIDENT OF THE WHOLE FUCKING COUNTRY go on television to give a public statement saying his government was opening an investigation into I.B.N.** Dirty fucker shoulda waited until after the Syria thing, just to show how willing he is to abandon allies to foreign takeover.
There’s no place left for the goalposts to go, kids. You would need to travel beyond the confines of the known universe to plant the goalposts now. We have established quid pro quo, even though that was never necessary to prove a crime, or an impeachable offense, had been committed. We have a criminal conspiracy, headed by the President of the United States, to illegally use to powers of the federal government for personal, political, gain. It’s not in dispute. And I don’t know what’ll be more fun about what happens next; watching the GOP contort themselves and the law in search for some excuse for this shit, or the crimes the Grand Wizard Grifter attempts once he sees they’ll let him get away with anything.
Oh, I guess our old chum the Anonymous Op-Ed Writer is writing a whole dang anonymous book, dishing on Shart House secrets like which West Wing chairs have been ruined by Littlefinger’s anal leakage, and how Stephen Miller eats by first vomiting up a viscous, acidic, substance that dissolves his food, which he then absorbs through his porous forehead. Once the shitshow is finally over, I’m told this suddenly-prolific author is looking to take up anonymous landscape painting in retirement.
In addition to not being Secretly Willard Romney, I’m also not Secretly The Anonymous Op-Ed Writer, for the record. I might be Secretly Harry Reid’s cat though, that’d be sweet. And I am most certainly Not-So-Secretly Tired of All This Shit and Desperately in Need of Beer Now, so it’s time to sign off for the evening. Take care of yourselves, Resisters!
*…is it? I didn’t check. I’m fuckin’ lazy
**Imaginary Biden Naughtiness