The news sure is somethin’ these days. It’s been kind of interesting to discover that the worst people in the world are also the stupidest. It probably would’ve been more desirable to uncover that little nugget in a game of Scrabble, rather than by giving them earth-shaking political power, but I suppose that ship has sailed.

The Marmalade Shartcannon’s war on Dr. Fauci is going about as well as his war on the coronavirus, and that’s good news for Fauci, anyway. It’s certainly reassuring to see such an open assault on science and expertise backfire so quickly and decisively, and as an added bonus, young Peter Navarro has been given an opportunity to learn a valuable lesson about the loyalty one can expect when one debases oneself for Donald Trump’s benefit. And if he doesn’t learn it, well, that’s okay, too.

Terrible news, Resisters. Despite our once-total domination over the deep state, Detective Dotard has somehow uncovered our insidious plot…to destroy the suburbs! I know you’re particularly disappointed, Dale, since you were the head of the task force in charge of destroying all the overly-manicured median gardens, but don’t worry, we shall transition seamlessly into the latest phase of Operation: Jade Helm, in which we Jade Helm the living shit out of all the windows, they’ll never that one coming. Wait, what? GODDAMMIT!

I get a kick out of hearing about all the new things us satanic leftists want to abolish. The suburbs. Kittens. Warm chocolate chip cookies. Watch out, Real Americans, we’re gonna abolish the pocket on just the left side of your pants. You’re gonna reach for your keys, and there won’t be any pocket there. You’re gonna goose yourself. It’ll be real gross and embarrassing, but also kinda sexy, and you’re gonna feel bad about that in church.

Freshman Kansas GOP Congressjag(for now) Steve Watkins is already shitting the bed at the cushy government job his daddy bought for him, earning three felony charges for the sort of voter fraud his party claims is rampant in the electorate at large, but which only seems to be actually committed by Republican officials. See, Stevie Boy got caught using a UPS store as his home address to vote, and these conservative young guns just keep on turnin’ out to be felons, I wonder what’s up with that?

Anyway, I know he’s a bit behind, but I’m optimistic the President will finally, finally get to work on the pandemic, just as soon as he’s done shilling beans behind the Resolute desk like a back-up outfielder doing a local used car dealership spot. Now, you’re probably mad at your commander in chief for caring more about a can of beans than the tens of thousands of Americans dead from his bungling negligence, but you have to understand, the CEO of the bean company handjobbed his ego for a bit, while you whiners with your “please stop killing us” bullshit keep cutting into his golf time.

As evidenced by the catastrophic non-response to the coronavirus outbreak, the Treasonweasel Administration just plain doesn’t like working, even when it’s really important (and we should’ve learned that lesson after Hurricane Maria), but what do they do with their time? Why, settle political scores, of course! Anyway it’s totally strange and unexpected that the gang of malicious trolls who felt the need to fabricate smears against Lt. Col. Alexander Vindman in order to derail his career wound up botching a global crisis; I guess petty vindictiveness isn’t really a useful skill in this situation. I guess it really isn’t a skill at all, and yet it’s all anyone in the White House has to offer.

Speaking of the wad of seething malice men call the Republican Party, Oklahoma’s Kevin Stitt became the first governor to catch the ‘rona, a truly inexplicable coincidence after his maskless appearance at Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s What if You Threw a Nuremberg Rally in Tulsa and Nobody Came shindig. I bet being a footnote at one of modern political history’s most humiliating failures was totally worth risking your life for, Kev. Anyhow, real nice job on that governor, Oklahoma, his brain very nearly functions.

It’s seems there are only so many tens of millions of dollars you can grift off the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus before they notice the septuagenarian former Vice President effortlessly running laps around you, tauntingly drinking water with just one hand and waving the latest polls in the other. What I’m trying to say is young Bradward Parscale finally got shitcanned, or reassigned anyway, but he’ll keep drawing a fat Cult45-funded salary because his dirtbag boss is pathologically incapable of admitting error.

Anyhow, the new guy, Bridgegate alum Bill Stepien, is already deploying the reality-denying Pay No Attention to the Hole From That Iceberg I Assure You We Are Winning So Very Hard technique that’s been so successful against the coronavirus. Under most circumstances I’d say it’s unforgivable to work for President Crotchrot in any capacity, but I’m willing to look the other way when it comes to stooges who instill false confidence.

And of course Trumpist Republicans still don’t want people to wear masks, which I think is a little bit weird, since mask-wearing is the best tool we have available to us to contain the pandemic that’s kidney-punched our lives and curb-stomped our economy, and especially since strapping a small piece of fabric to your face from time to time is the tiniest imaginable ask for such an enormous benefit, but we live in challenging times.

Dr. Ronny Jackson, who parlayed the celebrity borne of lying about Sharty McFly’s weight into a victory in the Republican primary in Texas’ 13th district and therefore likely a career in the United States Congress (despite having been deemed too toxically unqualified for a cabinet post even in this hopelessly corrupt, standards-challenged administration) became the latest prominent Republican to proclaim science to be “for cucks,” insisting it’s a “personal choice” whether you want to enable the spread of a deadly disease or not, and you’re certainly free to vote for this party; I just think you should understand in advance that they’re actively trying to kill you.

Georgia Governor Brian Kemp disagrees with Dr. Ronny; there’s no personal choice here, in fact the state must intervene on behalf of the fucking virus. Who are we to obstruct COVID-19’s freedom, after all? And if any of his state’s mayors should betray this sacred principle, and attempt to protect and preserve the lives of their constituents, well, then by the ghost of George Wallace, they shall be stopped!

Yes, Kemp can think of no better use for his purloined power than to overrule Georgia municipalities’ mask mandates, going so far as to sue Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms to prevent her from acting in the interest of public health. See, it’s not bad enough that the GOP has devolved into a gibbering death cult; they insist upon conscripting the rest of us into their suicidal congregation, willing or not.

And Wee Donnie Two-Scoops staged a sad little presentation that would’ve earned me a C- in Mrs. Wimmer’s speech class back in high school, complete with cheaply-made visual aids (Trump-branded, no doubt) designed to communicate the oppressive weight of the regulations Joe “Guy Who Loves Regulations, I Guess” Biden plans to inflict upon the economy. It’s sort of adorable that these clowns imagine they can change the subject right now, like America might go, “yeah, not having a job sucks, and I certainly don’t love that literally everything is dangerous now, but come to think of it, my dishwasher IS kinda wussy.”

Honestly, Dorito Mussolini knows he can’t defeat Joe Biden, and he’s pulling his hair out trying to craft some demonic Mirror Universe Biden in the public imagination. (Well, he would be, if his hands weren’t so small and weak.) The idea seems to be that the minute Joe takes the oath of office, he’s gonna peel off his face and reveal he was Bernie Sanders this whole time, nay, a Giant Ninja Cyborg Mega-Bernie, ravaging the suburbs in order to steal white folks’ water pressure and give it to Those People, a modern day diversity-crazed Robin Hood…of water pressure.

Anyway, it’s not going well for him, thank God, and he even ran face-first into a fact-checking buzzsaw in the friendly confines of Fux Nooz, which was actually one helluva thing to see. 

What else is going on? Oh, your federal government seems to be test-driving a violent police state crackdown operation in Portland, Oregon, that’s fun. Unidentified federal law enforcement officers abducting protesters into unmarked vehicles, detaining them unconstitutionally? SO fun! Grab a sno cone and watch the shittiest people alive set fire to American democracy, WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Yeah, even though they’ve been asked to leave by state and local officials, there’s a heavily-armed military force accountable only to the floundering fascists in Washington, playfully testing the limits of just how much atrocity America will allow, like velociraptors, only less adorable and, tragically, real.

Fuck. I know we wanted to believe Government Cheese Goebbels learned his lesson after the ferocious and damn near universal backlash to his little stunt in Lafayette Square, but OH RIGHT he’s incapable of learning, how fucking silly of us.

Acting DHS Secretary Chad Wolf is clearly having the time of his life, unleashing state violence on Americans exercising their constitutional rights, gleefully tweeting “this shit is better than Viagra!” before taking another hit of nitrous oxide, Little Shop of Horrors-style. Wolf justifies his actions, the most anti-American behavior by a U.S. cabinet secretary since Kirstjen Nielsen and her Kiddie Koncentration Kamps, by insisting there was a lot of graffiti. GRAFFITI. America, you get the Gestapo in the streets over Kilroy Was Here now, got that?

Look, we all know the protests have largely been peaceful, but the faltering, fart-huffing, fascist incumbent has decided he wants to run against rampaging antifa hordes, so if he has to jazz reality up a little bit to get the footage he’s looking for, well, that’s show biz, people!

I guess when you decide to go full fascist, loyalty tests are the next logical step. Anyway, that’s what your federal government is doing, probing numerous officials’ fealty to the Emperor of Hemorrhoids, obviously an excellent use of time and resources during this, a period in which the United States faces no serious crises, and certainly not three at once.

I see the Pentagon banned the Confederate flag on military property and that news is certainly awesome, if a teensy bit overdue, but speaking on behalf of a nation sinking in quicksand, we’d have vastly preferred a rope.

Mary Trump is making the rounds promoting her new book, and she says Unca Donald is mean, stupid, crazy and racist. Hope you were sitting down when you read that.

And now the Shart House is blocking CDC officials from testifying before Congressional hearings about safely reopening schools. It’s for the best, honestly. I mean, if there’s one time you don’t want to hear from snooty expert types, it’s when your children’s safety is at risk, right? I think we should just leave it to Betsy DeVos, she seems to have a healthy respect for human life.

And it’s gotta be said, regarding schools…just like at every other stage of this pandemic, the Die Plebs Die Administration’s strategy has been “pretend reality isn’t reality.” It hasn’t worked yet, not once, because reality IS reality; that’s what it makes it reality. My point is, it won’t work this time either, OBVIOUSLY, so what, precisely, is the fucking plan for the inevitable consequences of forcing the nation’s children into death pits? When the plan is 100% doomed to failure, you should be forced to show your follow-up plan to deal with your murderous mess, you genocidal clods.

And yeah, Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s cancer is back. It’s been that kinda week, folks. And I’m not gonna lie to y’all, it’s been fuckin’ GETTING TO ME lately. But y’know what? What RBG’s staring down is much, much bigger and harder than anything on my plate, so I figure I owe it to her to solider on.

109 days, Resisters. I can almost smell the bloody nose I’ll get from intercepting a champagne cork with my face on election night. Shit’s worse than it was last week, and it’s gonna get even worse next week, but there’s a pinprick on the horizon that I’m pretty fucking sure is the light at the end of the tunnel; it’s vaguely Joe-Biden-shaped, so look out, Malarkey, thy reign is near its end.