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.
Y’know, America’s OTHER Pastime is Telling Fascists to Go Fuck Themselves
Y’know, I was trying to reflect back on this point in the Obama presidency, and I realized that I had no idea what the fuck was going on at this point in the Obama presidency. I probably had a burger and a few beers, watched some TV, and went to bed without worrying anyone would destroy the republic and/or the world. Pretty sweet, those days.
Lost in all the pandemonium and hullabaloo of Mid East treachery, impeachment posturing, and other crises, the Trump/McConnell Judicial Jagoff Pipeline just keeps Right on confirming ill-quipped right-wing sphincter blisters to lifetime appointments, which absolutely fucking sucks. I bet I could get myself appointed to a federal judgeship under this administration, actually. I’m perfect. I have no legal training whatsoever. In undergrad, I double-majored in theatre and English. I did play a lawyer once, in a college production of Machinal, and my fake mustache kept falling off*. Anyway, I’m utterly unqualified, and obviously a drunken maniac, so I’m mailing Lindsey Graham my resume tomorrow.
Defenestrated former cast member John Kelly stopped by to tell us that he regrets leaving the Shart House, because he misses the day-to-day grind of wielding the awesome power of the state in the name of institutional white supremacy, and also because he abandoned his Turd Emperor to inevitable impeachment under the feeble stewardship of sub-competent sycophant Mick Mulvaney. Me, my only regret is talking my parents into letting me quit piano lessons back in high school, but I suppose “insufficiently effective enabling of a would-be tyrant” might cause the odd sigh of whimsical nostalgia amongst the absolute bastards of the world.
Of course, even this relatively mild act of criticism landed General John square in the Treasonweasel Administration’s smear campaign crosshairs, with new I Guess They’re Still Calling Her Press Secretary Even Though She Never Talks to the Press Stephanie Grisham speculating that Kelly was too much of a beta cuck to handle Boss Turdworm’s “genius.” Wow. Ne’er did I imagine I’d miss the subtlety, the finesse, that Sarah Huckabee Sanders brought to the work of lying straight to the American people’s faces. Turns out there’s an art to it, and we were fools to think that just any ol’ drunk could fill your gaslightin’ shoes, Sarah.
Looks like the Hairplug That Ate Decency followed through on his earlier threat to “screw Amazon” out of a massive Pentagon cloud computing contract, because America’s national security will always take a back seat to any opportunity to stick it to the Washington Post for all that dastardly journalism they insist upon doing. Now, just because I won’t weep for Jeff Bezos here doesn’t mean I want federal contracts distributed according to the vindictive whims of a petulant manbaby. Anyway, I think Kathy Griffin should start putting in deliberately-lowball bids on military contracts, just to get under that paper-thin, spray-tanned, skin.
U.S. forces killed ISIS leader/all-around murdering shitsack Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, in what was indisputably the single biggest success of Donnie Two-Scoops’ entire presidency. Because he’s ultimately.nothing but a mediocre game show host, he teased a big announcement Saturday night, but word of the operation quickly leaked, and so America waited to see just how he’d manage to fuck this up for himself, in the way you watch a waiter carrying a tray with too many dishes, eagerly anticipating the inevitable avalanche of crockery, congealed gravy, and shame.
And you certainly weren’t disappointed, as he wasted no time in turning the announcement into a megagauche celebration of himself, complete with self-aggrandizing lies and that sad, desperate, compulsion to compare himself to his predecessor, who accomplished more, inspired more affection, and yes, Little Dotard, oversaw the killing of a more important terrorist. The sad old bastard will simply never outrun his crippling insecurities.
And of course, he thanked Russia and Turkey before acknowledging the contributions of our own intelligence services, or our Kurdish allies, because, well, THOSE ARE HIS FUCKING PRIORITIES, in case anybody in the nosebleeds still had any doubts. Yeah, the Kurds provided pivotal intelligence for this raid, even after Il Douche’s betrayal launched them unexpectedly into a battle for their very survival; in contrast, the Sunny D-Bag’s recklessness recently got dozens of imprisoned ISIS fighters released.
In fact, the military was quick to point out that the operation succeeded in spite of Donnie Dotard’s recent blunders in Syria, rather than as a result of any leadership on his part, which frankly would’ve surprised the shit out of everyone. Pretty fucking nutty for the Pentagon to be leaking “yeah, the President is a drooling moron” immediately after such a major victory, but it does give me hope that they won’t follow orders when he tries to send marines to the Capitol to halt the impeachment trial.
And yes, many are speculating that Strawberry Shartcake hastily arranged a staged photo to make it appear as though he played some sort of pivotal role in the raid, instead of grudgingly interrupting his golf game just in time to swoop in and hoover up the credit. We may never know for sure, but I suppose those are the consequences of being The Boy Who Cried I Brought Back Manufacturing Jobs and Built a Wall Which Mexico Paid For and Other Totally-Made-Up Shit.
Oh, and Government Cheese Goebbels is still positively horny to steal Syria’s oil, I guess because he’s sick of the empty “war crimes” square on his Presidential Fuckery Bingo card taunting him. Anyway, ISIS won’t stay mad at him long, with rhetoric like this bolstering their recruiting almost as much as the prison breaks he caused.
For the record, fuck Katie Hill’s dirtbag estranged husband. He probably has a name, but I’m certainly not showing him the respect it would take to look it up. This pathetic deadbeat loser hasn’t worked since 2014, and actually whined that the jobs his wife helped him get were too hard for him. And we she left him (Hill says he was abusive, by the way), the little ratfink passed a bunch of revenge porn on to some of the sleazier media outlets and GOP operatives (700 images, according to reporting), and now one of the brightest stars in our killer freshmen House class has resigned. In conclusion, fuck you with a rusty crack spoon, Katie Hill’s shitbag ex.
Of course, Duncan Hunter is still in the House. And Scott DesJarlais. And Greg Gianforte. And Ross Spano. And even white nationalist skidmark Steve King. Shoot, I’m told even the President may have a skeleton or two in his closet, next to all those ill-fitting suits and too-long neckties.
Brimming with unearned self-confidence from a military operation he had nothing to do with and indeed very nearly fucked up, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits figured he’d take in a ballgame. It’s hard to believe, but he really seems to have convinced himself that it’s Lou Dobbs who has a twisted, bony, finger on the pulse of “Real America,” that only Rasmussen polls have been telling the truth lo these many years, and that he would be hailed as an American hero for personally strangling the leader of ISIS to death with his very own tiny, inadequate, hands. Anyway, it didn’t quite work out that way.
No, the Marmalade Shartcannon was met not with praise, but with stadium-wide boos, 100 decibels worth of Go Fuck Yourself, You Treasonous Piece of Shit, with some jaunty “lock him up chants” thrown in for good measure.
Now, I’ve had some shitty days in my short time on this Earth, but I’ve never once attended a sporting event where total strangers unfurled giant banners demanding my immediate firing, but I suppose I still have time to hit that public shaming milestone.
Because the road to hell is paved with weak-kneed pundits who find any breach in dinner-party decorum to be the exact moral equivalent of filling concentration camps with traumatized children, I awoke this morning to discover an entire new genre of pearl-clutching thinkpiece had flourished overnight; the Baseball Chanters Are Just as Bad as Trump take. Congrats on still being able to type with your head that far up your ass, I guess.
Y’know, the “lock him up” stuff only seems shocking because the Velveeta Vulgarian has spent his entire term hiding from the people of this country, venturing out from behind his walls only to visit the safest of safe spaces, where he can play bully ringmaster while his frenzied cultists gang up on the odd protester here and there. It’s not nearly as fun when you don’t get to lock the majority out, is it, Shart-Shart?
The truth is, what happened at Nationals Park Sunday night was patriotic as fuck, a long-overdue release of the first amendment valve at a tyrannical goon who obsessively insulates himself from our disapproval of his failings and crimes. It couldn’t have been more patriotic unless a flock of bald eagles shit on him ‘till he drowned in bald eagle shit.
Me, I only wish I could take more joy in it. Just like I wish I could take more joy in Bobby Rankin, one of Elijah Cummings’ pallbearers, cold-shouldering Mitch McConnell at the funeral the other day. These symbolic Eat Shits are pretty sweet, yes. But the concentration camps are still open. The federal judiciary is still being overstuffed with scumbags. The gun control legislation, and the election security legislation, and the anti-corruption legislation, is still dying at Wrinkly Gamera’s power-mad reptilian feet.
So I take my joy in the subpoena issued, and the devastating testimony delivered. In the poll showing rising support for impeachment and removal from office. And my greatest joy since these sheepfucking traitors first took power came in November 2018, when we finally pried one House of Congress out of their grimy, enabling, mitts, and started to bring a little accountability back to this country. I could use some more of THAT shit, y’know?
Anyway. President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster swung by Chicago today, to give a rambling, hateful, speech, shitting all over a city of millions of Americans, before retreating to his tacky-ass hotel to beg the ultra-wealthy to please give his re-election campaign some of the money he gifted them with his plutocrat-friendly tax “reform” bill. Oh, the populism.
Again, he hides from the populace he disparages and despises, because he is a coward. When you’re too scared to step outside and face the people, that doesn’t make Chicago more dangerous than Afghanistan, it just makes you a gibbering wuss.
Turns out Weehands McNodick’s “What else would you like me to do for you, Mr. Erdoğan, sir?” subservience isn’t a recent thing, as new reporting reveals he tried to cut off funding for a series of charter schools connected to one of his buddy Recep’s political foes. Y’know, if Littlefinger worked half as hard on behalf of the American people as he does for foreign dictators, he’d probably be able to attend a baseball game without enduring soul-crushing humiliation.
Oh, and now I see the House will be voting soon on rules for the impeachment inquiry, so the Craven Stooge Brigade will have to find something else to disingenuously gripe about on Fux Nooz, probably that it’s a violation of the Adderall-Addled Assclown’s due process rights to keep gathering and presenting evidence of his many crimes. I’m told one proposed rule would call for the administration of a mild electric shock to any member of the Freedom Caucus who lies about the Constitution on television, so expect Mark Meadows and Matt Gaetz to sport Doc Brown hairstyles before long.
Sliding over to the good news real quick, Superior Court judges in North Carolina finally smacked down the GOP’s shameless scheme to hand-pick their voters rather than face the will of the people, and new, fairer, maps will be in place for 2020. It’s fitting this happened so close to Halloween, for truly, nothing terrifies a Republican so much as a free and fair election.
And that’s what I got for ya tonight, Resisters. A little atrocity, a little schadenfreude, and a bit with a dog. See y’all soon…
PS: Whoops! Looks like some late-breaking news hit while I was getting this post up, featuring still more corroboration of the most damning accusations in the Ukraine scandal. Tee hee.
*I make a ton of shit up in this blog, but the bit about the fake mustache that wouldn’t stay on? 100% true.