Today is my birthday. My 47th, as it happens. While it’s unlikely there’s any supernatural mojo to be harvested there, I sacrificed an extra virgin on my altar to the God of Cankles just in case. Don’t worry, no one ever misses these incel White House interns. Anyhoo, if the deathsplotch requires a little more makeup to conceal tonight, that’s the power of prayer, bay-bee.

Still, the Dotard defied the skeptics, maintaining sphincter control throughout the entirety of the longest State of the Union speech in two hundred and fifty years of this increasingly wacky experiment.

Or maybe he didn’t. Did he shit himself? Or declare war on Iran? Or Denmark? Or Gondor? Perhaps a “friendly takeover” of Cuba? Like most of America, I didn’t watch. I was too busy staring at the page-a-day calendar I bought to count down to the midterms.

Oh man, remember back when Congress was a, whatchamacallit, a co-equal branch of the whole dang federal government instead of a third-rate poodle circus? I’ll admit I was kinda impressed when Troy Nehls got all the way up on his hind legs for that autograph, though.

Mike Johnson is never Christliker than when he’s shielding powerful sexual abusers from accountability, so I look forward to the Mel Gibson movie about defending an absolute taintmaggot like Tony Gonzales for the sake of the majority. “I n-needed his help to fund the concentration camps,” he pleads before a grimly chuckling St. Peter.

I give Speaker Moses a lotta shit, but there’s poetry in the man, if only accidentally. “If we lost the majority in the House, it would be the end of the Trump presidency in a real effect.” Why, Michael, that’s lovely. Direct. Conjures what’s wonderful about the world to come with elegance and simplicity.

…assuming American democracy survives the latest assault from the Flynn/Lindell wing of the MAGA asylum. There is to be an executive order (yes, again) laying claim to vast, extraconstitutional powers (yes, again) in the name of some ill-defined “national emergency.” YES. AGAIN. Chinese bamboo fibers have infiltrated our precious bodily fluids, you see, and thus we cannot be trusted to vote.

The courts probably won’t go for it, but you never know when some nail-gun-wielding true believer might open up a spot for Aileen Cannon. Then we can revisit this tariff thing, too.

Although I suppose we can just keep on charging the new mega-tariffs the Supreme Court unwittingly unleashed under the Nuh Uh Clause, which the president can activate just by thinking about. I’m excited to pay these new illegal taxes to the very government that petulantly refuses to refund the money they previously stole from me. Perhaps I’ll have the opportunity to finance my own tear-gassing someday soon.

The Reich continues withholding big, fat chunks of the Epstein files, in direct defiance of the law. All the bits about the woman who accused the president of sexually assaulting her when she was a minor are missing, of course, likely because the Justice Department is worried that if they exonerate him too hard, the citizenry will enter into an irrevocable state of religious ecstasy.

Just because the president announces he’s sending a hospital ship to Greenland doesn’t mean he’s actually sending a hospital ship to Greenland. Of course, Greenland doesn’t want or need a hospital ship, and there aren’t any hospital ships to send anyway…the bungling is almost kinda charming when nobody gets hurt.

HOWEVER.

I imagine everyone slept extra soundly after hearing about Secretary Funsoxx’s attempt to bully the Pentagon’s AI partners into removing ethical safeguards. Nothing to worry about, just the stuff about mass surveillance and autonomous killing. This is how you get Terminators, right? Obviously they’ll be branded as “Warfighters” in this timeline, and instead of plugging us passively into the Matrix, they’ll force us to do pushups at gunpoint.

We might be better off. Under the current kakistocracy, with beef prices soaring, administration officials keep nudging us towards alternative proteins, so the golden age may be a ways off yet. And sure, history teaches us to beware of machine intelligences bearing steaks, but I am truly, sincerely looking to change horses midstream, folks.

Kash Patel demonstrated admirable fiscal restraint in flying only himself to Milan at taxpayer expense to crash the men’s Olympic hockey team’s victory party, rather than taking his girlfriend along. Frankly, I don’t see how it’s possible to run the FBI, let alone conduct regular purges, without a private mile-high love nest like they’ve got over at DHS.

Boy, MAGA sure tried to glom onto that hockey team (BUT JUST THE MEN HAW HAW HAW), didn’t they? I get that. There’s been so little winning lately they’ve probably forgotten what winning feels like. Then Turd Midas went and did his thing, because even photo ops with championship athletes are beyond the capacity of people this subpar.

The regime announced a fresh round of sanctions targeting Russia this week, after…hang on, that’s not quite right. Targeting MINNESOTA, excuse me. Russia got a half-assed attempt to water down a pro-Ukraine resolution at the United Nations, even after Pootkins didn’t even RSVP to Donnie’s Super Bowl party.

Under Gruppenführer Homan, ICE has largely managed to avoid showy daytime executions, allowing a frankly obscene level of atrocity to slide neatly into the shit-flooded slipstream that is the American consciousness. Who can be bothered to notice the blind refugee you’ve sociopathically abandoned in the middle of nowhere to die in the streets when you’re yanking aircraft carrier groups to and fro?

Candace Owens says Erika Kirk killed her husband in cahoots with The Jews™️, who didn’t even use a space laser, which feels disrespectful. MAGA figures from Chris Rufo to Alex Jones to Laura Loomer just cannot figure out how such a blatant nutcase/rabid anti-Semite found an audience amidst the birthers and big liars and doomsday prep kit salesmen.

Yeah, it’s a mystery. The newest wingnut YouTube “journalist” calling to “EXPOSE” the “Jewish invasion” is equally mysterious, as is the revelation that a prominent MAGA troll account that enjoyed the recent Obamas-as-apes video has been operated by a White House staffer. Somebody should get to the bottom of all these mysterious, mysterious mysteries.

Byron Donalds (allegedly) affected a Jamaican accent in college in an effort to appear interesting. Must be a relief to wind up in a cult where everybody dresses the same. Well, if there’s one thing we know about the statewide electorate in Florida, it’s how much they love unimpressive men, so go ahead and measure those drapes, mon.

Okay, it’s my birthday; 7I’m allowed to stop now. I’m actually going to take next week OFF to go on a little adventure, so I’ll see y’all in a bit! Accepting birthday beers (via Cash App, Venmo, or PayPal) until I pass out in the alley behind Carol’s. COMICS COMING SOON, so stay safe out there, m’lovelies…