RNC Week in Hell: Who Knew American Carnage Could Be So Boring? (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Life has been grating and unpleasant for quite some time now, so whoever decided we needed a solid week of the drooliest maniacs in the world, reciting their Mad-Max-by-way-of-Tucker-Carlson’s-White-Power-Hour fanfic, mid-meth overdose, in prime time...that was a bad idea, and you should feel bad.
(Find this post, in living color, with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/rnc-week-in-hell-who-knew-american-carnage-could-be-so-boring/)
Yes, the Raving Nutcase Congregation was extra frothy this year, filling the vomitoriums with spittle and lies. The biggest falsehood, of course, was that the pandemic is a just state of mind, maaaaaaan, and there’s nothing wrong with the economy, pay no attention to those millions of unemployed folks, or that looming foreclosure crisis, No, trust us, everything that glitters is gold, and LOOK AT ALL THIS FUCKING GLITTER!
Larry “So consistently wrong about everything he prefers Dylan’s born-again period” Kudlow led the charge, referring to the decidedly-still-killing-fucktons-of-us pandemic in the past tense. Y’know, waiting ‘till November to learn precisely how many Americans can be fooled all of the time is, I admit, sorta interesting, but it’s also pretty motherfucking stressful.
One really fun game to play during the Rabid Nitwit Carnival this year was Count the Hatch Act Violations, though it spiraled out of control pretty much immediately, winding up in sort of a Guess How Many Jellybeans Fit Inside This Humvee place.
Now, here’s where George W. Bush might ask, “Is our political reporters learning?” and the answer would be, “no, George, they is not.” Surely there’s nothing America needs less right now than a beltway-blind pundit class casually pondering whether it matters much that a norm-crushing would-be dictator feels perfectly comfortable pissing on the laws governing our elections, with the whole world watching, because his docilely corrupt political party is going through a rebellious, fascism-curious phase as it faces permanent minority status.
Ten days before the election, we’re gonna get a push notification from CNN breathlessly announcing that Joe Biden used a private e-mail address to wish his second cousin happy birthday, and James Comey will decide he can no longer conceal the secret that one time Vice President Biden ate the last iced maple long john and blamed it on Tim Geitner, and we’ll suddenly notice we’re trapped in Groundhog Day But it Lasts Four Years and the calendar says 2016.
There was also a whole a bunch of “you’ve heard Donald Trump is a white supremacist monster well if that’s the case how come he has THESE THREE BLACK FRIENDS?” kind of stuff, which naturally meant that he skeezily conscripted an immigrant nationalization ceremony into his self-aggrandizing reality show without the participants’ knowledge or consent, which, yeah, that’s pretty much the single most white supremacist way to try to prove you’re not a white supremacist.*
What else? Each of Hairplug Himmler’s devolved-looking spawn shuffled out to give identical “I cannot tell you a single story about my hideous dad that would evoke any emotion even resembling love” speeches. Rudy Giuliani just punched himself in the balls for twenty minutes, screeching “STOP PUNCHING ME IN THE BALLS, JOE BIDEN,” while the Children of the Candy Corn** nodded somberly, vowing to avenge the senseless damage inflicted upon that incest-stained groin by...Joe Biden? Somehow? Chronology is not this particular subculture’s strong suit.
Following yet another tragic police shooting of an unarmed Black man, unrest flared up again, and Republicans, because they are psychopaths, gleefully pounced when shit went off the rails and turned violent, because they believe they can get the electorate to forget about the pandemic that’s still killing 1,000 of us every single day, after six fucking months, but then it turned out the bloodshed came at the hands of the most perfect imaginable product of Tangerine Idi Amin’s Easy-Bake Stochastic Terror Oven, and the wingnut feeding frenzy was called off, alas.
Yes, another shitty white boy terrorist, a fucking seventeen-year-old man-child, radicalized online, decided it was finally time to give in to his deranged cowboy fantasies, and he went out a-huntin' for human beings. Oh, the official story is something about protecting property, or preserving our western cultural heritage wink wink or restoring ethics to gaming journalism, but the truth here is the warped little shit went looking for trouble, positively horny to find an excuse to end some lives, and it’s well past time to stop fucking around and be honest about this Trumpist/gun nut/white nationalist movement and its murderous intentions.
While most of the headlines this week have been devoted to the Republican death cult’s high priests, let’s check in on those laboratories of kakistocracy, the states! Over in Missouri, the Republijag-controlled House advanced a bill legalizing the practice of giving guns to children without their parents’ permission, and like, how does any collection of human beings decide to do something so head-explodingly fucking stupid? I’ve encountered enough nutjobs to believe someone would go, “It’s too goddamn hard to put firearms in the hands of other people’s kids in this COMMUNIST NANNY STATE, by gum!” but who the fuck responds to that insanity with, “By Jove, I think he’s onto something!”
Meanwhile, up in Alaska, the Republicreep Attorney General, Kevin Clarkson, resigned over a truly stomach-churning series of texts sent to a junior state employee, clearly trying to get into this poor woman’s pants in the cringiest PLEASE HAVE DADDY ISSUES I CAN EXPLOIT way imaginable. Gross gross gross.
A Russian military vehicle rammed a U.S. armored car in Syria, inflicting concussions on several American soldiers, in what Vladimir Putin snickeringly insisted to his Personal Pet President was a traditional Slavic gesture of respect, dating back centuries, honoring the rammed vehicle’s nation’s commander-in-chief for his sexual prowess and enormous Electoral College victory. Vlad then played the pee tape one more time and told Littlefinger he’d better haul ass and get those sanctions lifted if he wants any of that sweet foreign meddling in his re-election campaign.
This seems like a good time to point out that there are a couple of ex-Trump DHS officials out there these days, waving their arms, shouting to anybody who’ll listen about that unique blend of criminality, sociopathy, and brain rot that makes Gameshow Göring such an immense threat to the nation. There’s something extremely potent and frightening about these warnings, about hearing, “My job was protecting the homeland and I’m telling you the greatest threat to the homeland is the motherfucking President.”
And they’re not wrong. The Treasonweasel Administration, for partisan political purposes, pressured the CDC into changing their coronavirus testing guidance. They pulled this shit literally while Dr. Anthony Fauci was under general anesthetic for a surgical procedure. Everyone involved understands this will lengthen the coronavirus crisis and get Americans killed, but fuck them serfs, the point here is to trick juuuuuuust enough voters into thinking shit is under control. And so now you start thinking of all that medicine delayed by their sabotage of the Post Office, and what can you conclude except that they will kill as many of us as they have to to retain power?
Getting back to the Reckless Narcissist Conflagration, the fourth and final night featured the Mother of All Hatch Act Violations, a defiling of the People’s House which I suppose was designed to make Weehands McNodick appear presidential, to which I say, there is not enough lipstick in the world for that particular pig.
In keeping with Operation: Piss on America’s Leg and Tell Us It’s Raining, the event was light on masks and social distancing; hey, keep fuckin’ that chicken, you crazy death cult, you.
Anyway, after hours of whinging victimhood, the main event finally arrived, an interminable teleprompter speech from the Adderall-Addled Assclown himself. Normally, the only reason anyone could possibly have to watch someone read aloud this badly would be to determine if they’re ready to graduate the second grade, but I guess this is how we pick our presidents now, awesome.
In the end, it was mostly just boring. And America noticed. All those carefully-crafted lies Stephen Miller sweated over ‘til the latest coating of spray-on hair streaked down his sunken face were ultimately for naught, because we’ve seen this one before, and it sucks. The ratings were shit, is what I’m saying, especially compared to the exciting new ingenue taking the political world by storm, he’s America’s Decency Sweetheart, he's Handsome Joe Biden, and he absolutely spanked Fat Q*bert at his own game.
You probably saw the headline today where the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said he sees “no role” for the U.S. military in the electoral process, and you thought, “oh, that’s kinda comforting to hear, and actually addresses a very specific fear I’ve been having, life sure is fun here in 2020!”
If it seems like The Bastards are stepping up their efforts in their ongoing war to grind us down, it’s because they are. But the good folk of this great country are rising to meet the moment. An unprecedented labor strike led by the athlete activists of the NBA, boiling over into other sports as well, grabbed the world’s attention more than any of the RNC’s snarling diatribes. And it’s already yielded results, in case you need a lil’ inspiration in these shit-encrusted times.
And there’s no evidence the Shart Campaign’s panicked attempt to paint Joe Biden as the General Sherman of the Suburbs is landing. I mean, don’t take your eye off these motherfuckers for a second, but there’re a lot of reasons to believe we’re in a darkest-before-the-dawn scenario here.
So if you’re in a fighting mood, this is a great time to check out Shower Cap’s Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide! (http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/ ) Adopt a race or two, we’ve got a great team down there on the front lines. As for me, well, whenever you happen to be reading this post, it’s five o’clock somewhere.
*Heh. While I was writing, another almost identical story broke. These pathetic frauds.
**Toldja I’d use that one a bunch.
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in a dipshit Soldier outfit but all she did was make a GD Fool of her Gaslighting self.
Back up to the top.
