TheFerret
TheFerret's JournalThis Week in Hell: Everything is Stupid and Dangerous and I Hate It (Yay Georgia Though)
I spend way too much time these days watching choosy Republicans choose fascism, for reasons that are awful and terrifying, of course, but also SO FUCKING DUMB. Like, I get the authoritarianism thing, but wouldn’t you rather be ground beneath the jackboot of a despot who’s actually capable of dressing himself? Fuck.
(As always, get this post with nifty news links here: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-everything-is-stupid-and-dangerous-and-i-hate-it/)
Oh well. May as well chronicle this shit while we wait for the Georgia runoff results to trickle in...
We all knew that once Josh Hawley popped the Senate GOP’s totalitarian meltdown cherry, a tidal wave of perfidious sycophancy was sure to follow, and who better to surf it than Rafael Edward Cruz, with his Peter Parker-like sixth sense for detecting the precise moment his Turd Emperor’s boots require licking? Ted got together with some freedom-loathing chums to write a little letter. It is a very bad letter, full of lies, and Ted should feel bad, because he’s assaulting American democracy, which is a jaggy thing to do.
Ted’s debasing himself for nothing, of course, (seems to be his kink, frankly; nothing else explains that shitty beard) because apparently they don’t teach you at Harvard Law that a toxic rage cult will never in a million years rally around a worm who turned lackey for the guy who publicly disparaged his wife and father. All the work you did, Ted, riling up the crazies in the base, and Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot just yanked ‘em out from underneath ya. I’d ask how it feels to watch a cheap crook effortlessly steal your entire life’s work, but that would involve conversing with you, which strikes me as unpleasant.
I’m writing this on Tuesday night, and the dipshit Republican plot to steal the federal government from the American people is still on the schedule for tomorrow; wear something slutty. Cool of this new House GOP caucus to break their oaths immediately upon swearing them; now we don’t need to waste any time pretending this anti-democratic mob is operating in good faith.
Of course, the question on everybody’s mind tonight is, “precisely how many violent maniacs will answer the President’s call tomorrow, and how much thuggish fuckery will they perpetrate in his name?” because everything is good n’ normal in this, our extremely healthy modern democracy.
Remember when Ohio Governor Mike DeWine was held up as one of the rational, “decent” Republicans? Well, over the last few days he not only parroted Hairplug Himmler’s dangerous voter fraud lies, he signed a new stand your ground law, as well as a truly demented lil’ piece of legislation designed to inflict financial penalties and emotional trauma on women exercising their constitutional right to abortion. Yeah, that’s what moderate, compassionate conservatism looks like these days.
Far from the radical, DeWinean fringe, Nebraska Governor Pete Ricketts announced that the undocumented immigrants who make up a significant chunk of his state’s meatpacking workforce will not be eligible to receive the COVID-19 vaccine, because white supremacy is just so dang important to him that he’s only too happy to sacrifice a few more of his constituents’ lives on its altar.
In a sea of idiotically treacherous lawsuits asking the courts to pretty please throw democracy away forever, Louie Gohmert’s was the dumbest (fella has a reputation to protect, y’know). A quick reminder, for those whose post-election scorecards are an illegible collage of bat guano and right wing gobbledygook by now, Louie proposed replacing the boring ol’ “American citizens select their leaders” system with one where Vice President Pence gets to hand-select which votes count, and when the judge wouldn’t bite, Louie called for violence in the streets, exactly like a Nazi would. I bet Xmases at the Gohmert household were...challenging.
At the risk of offering advice to the enemy: Republicans, you should make Brad Raffensperger your king, because he seems to be the only member of your generally browbeaten party who understands what Donald J. Trump (the “J” stands for “I’d sell my own mother into slavery for a better seat on a five-minute bus ride”) actually is.
Brad, it seems, has witnessed enough defenestrations to know better than to slip dutifully into the line for the penthouse. Utilizing what suddenly seems like extremely basic common sense, (clearly not a conservative value these days) he recorded his phone call with Gameshow Göring, gifting himself a nifty little insurance policy against the inevitable wave of angry tweets once he refused to commit honey bunches of unlikely-to-succeed felonies on behalf of a floundering would-be dictator.
The call itself is fucking fabulous, providing a front-row seat as the Shart of the Deal demonstrates his legendary negotiating prowess. That walnut-sized brain simply cannot process how anyone could possibly stand up to his withering Repeat a Lie Several Times at Varying Volumes tactic; it always works on Mike Pompeo. The empty threats are pretty great, too, but it’s the BEGGING I like best. Real Wormtongue-level groveling, and I looooooooove it when we get to see what a whimpering slug Mr. Strongman truly is at heart. Cool cult of personality you got there, MAGA nation.
Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes has officially been voted Most Likely to Pawn the Presidential Medal of Freedom For Bail Money, because Boss Shart figures further defiling the nation’s highest civilian honor is cheaper than sending his most loyal stooges holiday fruit baskets. Gym Jordan’s getting one, too, and I guess if you value the esteem of the shittiest man alive, you’re welcome to it.
And of course, nothing shrieks Healthy-Ass Democracy quite like every living former Secretary of Defense joining hands to sing in one voice Kumbaya Also Everybody Back at the Ol’ Pentagon Knows Not to Follow Any Unconstitutional Orders, Right? While I’ve grown accustomed to the strangeness of my bedfellows over the last four years, (sometimes Bill Kristol is the big spoon, sometimes it’s me) I was unprepared emotionally for this PREACH, DICK CHENEY moment. Presumably, after an indeterminate number of showers, I will someday feel clean again.
Team Treasonweasel is somehow still finding innovative new ways to lose in court, though the last lingering legal dingleberries are so far down the Sidney Powell/Lin Wood wackadoo rabbit hole that Rudy’s gibbering rant behind Four Seasons Total Landscaping suddenly seems like oration worthy of Daniel Webster in comparison. One judge even threatened the lawyers who filed one of these maliciously frivolous (malivolous?) suits with discipline; I predict punishing these seditious freaks will be a helluva lot more fun than listening to ‘em.
I see Republicans in the Pennsylvania State Senate got ahold of Grandpa Goebbels’ keys and decided to take authoritarianism out for a little joyride, refusing to seat Democratic Senator Jim Brewster, though his win has been certified and upheld by the state Supreme Court, because apparently, they’re not quite done digging for some shabby new loophole to thwart the will of the electorate. Personally, I think the GOP is hitting this whole “we despise democracy and want to destroy it” thing a little too hard; it’s getting repetitive and obnoxious, if I’m honest. Try mixing in a little love of country now and then, just for variety’s sake.
Anyway, be sure to do some stretching before bed tonight, you don’t want to injure yourself laughing at Mike Pants’ overdue comeuppance tomorrow. Thought you were gonna emerge from this sewer spotless and rose-scented, didn’tcha, Mikey? Keep your head down, kiss that ass daily, and inherit the cult, easy-peezy, right? Four years of loading up your faux evangelical soul with sin upon sin, and they’ll still despise you as a traitor forever, all because Wee Donnie Dotard bought into something stupid he saw on Parler. Live by the misinformed hate cult, die by the misinformed hate cult, you turd-hearted crotchfungus.
I bet there’s gonna be tons more stupid, dangerous shit going down this week, so I’m gonna go rest up in anticipation. No I’m not. I’m gonna stay up all night drinking and refreshing the goddamn needle. That counts as rest, right?
Hmmmmm...actually, this night might not run as late as I thought...
Is Josh Hawley America's Next Top Fascist? Tune in to Find Out! (F/SC)
Ah, who doesn’t love the promise of a brand new year, particularly one in which the likelihood of the American President tear-gassing peaceful protesters in front of the White House is set to drop so dramatically? ‘Course, you knew 2020 wasn’t gonna let us go without dumping one last steaming bowlful on our heads, right?
(Got links if you want ‘em: http://showercapblog.com/is-josh-hawley-americas-next-top-fascist-tune-in-to-find-out/)
Louisiana Congressman-elect Luke Letlow died of COVID-19, and much to my surprise, many of the very same voices who have been minimizing this crisis for months, spreading disease and death throughout the land while the rest of us made daily sacrifices to protect our loved ones, expect me to treat this dude’s death as some sort of tragedy.
It is not, so I won’t. Let’s talk this through.
It seems Letlow was “inconsistent” when it came to behaving with a minimal amount of responsibility during this deadly pandemic; he campaigned with his mask and observed social distancing when he felt like it, but not when he didn’t; a distinction the coronavirus oddly felt no compulsion to acknowledge. Seems he held a maskless “victory party” a couple weeks before his diagnosis, which is precisely the sort of thing we’ve all known, for months, is how the motherfucking virus has been spreading. It’s not a secret. IT’S WHY SO MANY OF US ARE FUCKING DYING.
The people who have been pulling shit like holding maskless victory parties are not victims of fate’s random whims; they are willful perpetrators of crimes against the responsible majority.
The officials of the Trumpified GOP, through their entirely voluntary choice to spread insidious disinformation about a public health crisis, are directly, inescapably RESPONSIBLE for the resultant human carnage. And these people did not spill wine on the carpet. They got hundreds of thousands of people killed. If you accomplish that with mustard gas, you’re a war criminal. Do it with Tucker Carlson retweets, you’re a Republican Congressman.
Yes, mask-wearing and social distancing have, thanks to the madness that’s taken hold of the American right, become partisan. That doesn’t mean the issue should be treated like any other polite political disagreement, like we’re bickering about the capital gains tax rate; this party’s governing policy has been, from the beginning, Never Stop Lying No Matter How High the Bodies Pile Up, and that policy is nowhere near done claiming lives. These lies are killing people today. Right now.
“Aw, garsh, he had kids, Cap.” Fuck him. SO MANY OF THESE BASTARDS’ VICTIMS HAD KIDS. What about the children of all the frontline health care workers who died treating these selfish pricks?
See, that’s tragic. What the Republican Party, indisputably including Luke Letlow, has done in deceiving the public about a public health emergency for political gain is monstrous. It is one of the most evil things I have witnessed in my lifetime. So, a handful of this malicious scheme’s ringleaders paid the same price they happily inflicted on countless disposable serfs? I mean, I’ll mourn, sure, but get in line. There’s about, oh, 350,000 folks in front of you, though.
If Donald Trump had contracted COVID-19 back in March, before all those fancy oligarchs-only experimental treatments had been developed, think of how many people would still be alive today. We are not having a political disagreement in this country right now, we are having deeply insane arguments (with absolute lunatics, by the way) about whether or not a human life matters.
Yikes. Sorry ‘bout that. Uh...back to yer regularly scheduled blog:
Brad Raffensperger doesn’t have a brother. I shouldn’t know that. I live in Chicago, there’s no reason to know the name of Georgia’s Secretary of State at all, let alone any details of said secretary’s family tree. But now Raffensperger’s brotherlessness is one of those bits of trivia forever etched into my brain, alongside George Brett’s 1980 batting average and the civilian identities of the West Coast Avengers.
And why? I’m glad you asked. You see, the President of the United States of America, in his ongoing assault on members of his own party who refuse to destroy the nation’s constitutional democracy on his behalf, used his awesome platform to spread a conspiracy theory that originated in the Porta Potty across the street from Fox where Hannity’s crew goes to snort bath salts on their lunch break, that Brad’s brother “works for China,” and is thus part of...I dunno, antifa? The deep state? Something really scary, I’m sure, especially for old white people. Anyway. No Raffensbrother, I’m sure Wee Don will get around to apologizing for the error, once he’s done attempting coups and whatnot.
I guess Josh Hawley got tired of gazing longingly through the department store window at that little red armband, and finally decided to take the plunge on the full fascist makeover he’s dreamt of for so long; I bet he even splurged on the jodhpurs. Hawley announced he would buck Senate leadership to back the House Rabid Trash-Engorged Possum Caucus’ treasonous plot to establish a perpetual American dictatorship under a game show host who somehow couldn’t figure out how to make money at the fucking casino business.
Of course, young Joshward knows this latest iteration of the Stoopid Coo is doomed to failure; he simply understands that no one ever went broke telling a white supremacist hate cult they’re victims of a conspiracy. He’s gambling the path to the GOP presidential nomination lies in offering Cult45 not bold solutions to their problems, but an unceasing supply of rage and deceit to feed their resentments.
And that’s a dark and cynical wager, friends, but if you sat down tonight to write an article about Hawley and Tom Cotton holding dueling Klan rallies to overflow crowds in Iowa while Larry Hogan delivers a heartfelt lament for bygone conservative values in a nearly empty private living room six blocks away, I bet you could publish it, without edits, in the New York Times on about, oh say June 23rd, 2023.
Senate Majority Leader Mitch “You peasants can eat my gravelly turtle droppings” McConnell unilaterally blocked the popular, bipartisan House bill raising coronavirus stimulus checks from $600 to $2000, offering as an excuse some horseshit attempting to paint Democrats as favoring “socialism for rich people,” I couldn’t quite make it out, as it was delivered from atop the enormous stack of money Yertle made from the massive tax cut he gave himself a couple years back.
Kelly Loeffler’s new single, “Whoops, I Posed with a Klansman Again (Which is But One of Many Ways in Which I Am Trash)” feat. Lil’ Plutocrat debuted on Fux Nooz, thanks to Jon Ossoff, recent graduate of the Pete Buttigieg School of Keep Giving Me a Platform and I’ll Keep Kickin’ Y’all in the Nards.
David Perdue was supposed to attend Kelly’s release party, but he couldn’t make it cuz he’s quarantining following exposure to Covid, yes, in the very last week before a potentially career-ending runoff election, just as a devastating NYT deep dive into his lengthy history of outsourcing American jobs dropped, and I’m really hoping the rule of threes kicks in here, on about, say, this coming Tuesday or so?
Checking in real quick with my new favorite maniac, L. Lin Wood apparently believes he’s the second coming of Christ, and also that Jeffrey Epstein is alive and well and running a pedophile adoption agency for Supreme Court Justices, and I mean, not if you split five pounds of meth between half a dozen monkeys and made them play Mad Libs could you come up a more perfect nugget of raw wingnut batshitery than that.
You’ve probably heard by now, but yeah, the Treasonweasel Administration has managed to royally fuck up the coronavirus vaccine rollout, wildly missing even their own ineptitude-adjusted Cut Us Some Slack We Couldn’t Handle a Goddamn Easter Egg Roll targets. Not that anybody asked me, but I think the very last people to get vaccinated should be any turd-gobbling oligarch bootlickers who still think government should be run like a motherfucking business.
I see Donnie Dotard cut his New Year’s plans short, because he truly seems to believe Hawley and his House Hooligans’ lame bit of political treachery theatre is designed to actually keep him in power rather than merely earn a glowing tweet or two. (I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Donald Trump is a very stupid man) He’s called his Loser Legions to D.C. for the January 6th Electoral College certification in Congress, hoping they’ll riot in support of their Grand Wizard of Grievance. The turnout will be humiliatingly minuscule of course, but I for one have grown rather weary of watching All the President’s Brownshirts prowling the streets of the nation’s capital, thirsty for violence.
Well, the Senate joined the House in overriding the Velveeta Vulgarian’s veto of the defense bill, marking the 219th course of his post-election failure binge. Hope you saved room for dessert, fuckhead.
Ok, that’s enough madness for one week, methinks. Let’s get Warnock and Ossoff over the finish line, stamp out the Hawley Plot, and get back to drinking. Stay safe out there, Resisters...
Xmas Week in Hell: Still Awful and Stupid, Just Colder (F/SC)
Only thing I asked Santa for this year was for Xmas to bring me one day closer to Joe n’ Kamala’s inauguration, and I got that, wrapped tastefully, with a bow I can reuse next year and everything, but it must be noted, my stocking was filled with the same smoldering pile of perverse horseshit I’ve been getting since 2016. I miss ChapStick and socks, frankly.
(Yeah, yeah, links n’ color here, by humble blog site: http://showercapblog.com/xmas-week-in-hell-still-awful-and-stupid-just-colder/)
MAGA Nation spiked their Kool-Aid with extra meth when Gameshow Göring announced his latest round of pardons, because they mistakenly believe themselves to be on the same “team” as oligarchs like Paul Manafort and Roger Stone, who in turn view them simply as livestock. Anyway, I’m not sure we’re doing populism right, but I lost the manual.
You would think, after setting the world land speed judicial ass-whoopin’ record over the last few weeks, Donnie Dotard would be sick of losing, but no, he actually vetoed the dang defense bill, because he cares more about dead racist loser traitors than all us dumb serfs stuck here in the United States of Covid.
(He was also attempting to blackmail Congress into repealing Section 230, out of the erroneous belief that doing so would make it easier for him to lie on Twitter. Turns out that classic “I love the poorly educated” line was just more narcissism after all.)
Anyhow, the House overrode his tiny, inadequate veto, the Senate can’t wait to do the same, and the Marmalade Shartcannon is whining more than ever, which is amazing, because his entire presidency has been like being trapped in a closet with every single toddler in human history plus most of the Neanderthals for good measure.
I see multiple key witnesses for Team Treasonweasel’s case that Yuh HUH There Was Voter Fraud have withered before the awesome might of Extremely Basic Journalism. Sidney Powell’s much vaunted “former intelligence contractor” turned out to be just another random gibbering idiot with a pro-Trump podcast, and then Rudy Giuliani’s viral celebrity nitwit friend was revealed to be some sort of janitorial temp. Golly, and they seemed so credible.
Now that the reliability of these witnesses has been objectively obliterated, expect the GOP to finally abandon Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s assault on American democracy, allowing us all to move forward together, one nation unified in defense of our shared val-HA HA JUST KIDDING you’re locked in a country with a brainwashed mob, tens of millions strong, ready to believe anything, however ridiculous, so long as it lets them hate the left just a little bit more than when they woke up, already delirious with rage. Christ himself could rise from the grave to debunk this shit, and they’d call him part of the deep state*.
I confess I’m in awe of Hairplug Himmler’s capacity for bitterness; somehow he isn’t so busy screeching at subordinates for insufficiently overthrowing the government on his behalf that he can’t find time to stop and smell the roses, assuming “smelling the roses” roughly translates into Slovenian as “grousing that your Xmas-despising birther bride wasn’t on the cover of Nazi Loser Housewives’ Digest" or some shit. See, when you’re really passionate about resentment, you find ways to multitask.
There was a suicide bombing on American soil on Xmas day, but since the terrorist was a white dude, President Crotchrot merely muttered, “very fine work” and went about his golf.
Of course, the biggest holiday weekend story was the Lamest of All Possible Ducks breaking out his seldom-worn President costume to play Big Tuff Negotiator Man with the coronavirus relief bill, at the last minute, threatening to blow up a hard-won bipartisan compromise, and royally fucking over millions of Americans in the process.
After months of ignoring both the stimulus negotiations and the suffering of the American people, suddenly Tangerine Idi Amin started tweeting out demands for $2,000 checks from every potty break**. Nancy Pelosi, after pinching herself several times, gleefully seized the opportunity to flip Mitch McConnell over on his back and watch him flail. Yertle wouldn’t squirm alone, of course; hopefully-soon-to-be-departing cast members Kelly Loeffler and David Perdue found themselves unexpectedly unable to join in any reindeer games, as they were too busy explaining to the Georgia runoff electorate why they opposed their Excrement Emperor’s popular proposal.
...and shit was already pretty tough out there for an insider-tradin’ wingnut plutocrat down in the Peach State, with prominent Shartworld “attorney” L. Lin Wood urging Republican voters to boycott the runoff because the nargles that live in the fillings of his teeth told him about something called the “Dominion Algorithm,” which as near as I can tell is a conspiracy by voting machine companies to give old white conservative dudes erectile dysfunction.
Anyway, this was probably the most fun round of What the Living Fuck is This Assclown Thinking to date, with the fate of millions hanging in the balance. While Strawberry Shartcake dithered, god knows how many struggling Americans lost a full week’s worth of enhanced unemployment benefits, 300 bucks, but don’t worry, nobody’s budget is strained this time of year or anything.
This was around the time when everyone realized Weehands McNodick could just pocket veto the damn bill, which would of course be the act of a deranged madman more interested in harming the nation that rejected him at the ballot box than fulfilling his constitutional duties to oh I see it now. Well, fuck.
A bipartisan group of lawmakers begged the President to, y’know, give a fuck about his suffering constituents, but had little luck, as, despite recent successes on other fronts, medical science has yet to develop a cure for sociopathy.
In the end, they called in the Shart Whisperer: Lindsey Graham, who, along with a handful of collaborators, just straight up lied to the President to get him to sign the bill. They tricked the doddering old fart into believing he could force Congress to amend the thing, simply by signing it, and attaching a lil’ note that goes, “hey you guys, get rid of the stuff I don’t like,” essentially a line-item veto.
The Presidency offers no such power, of course, and amazingly, despite having held the gig longer than nearly anyone alive, Donald Trump does not know this. And of course, the bill became law the moment he sullied it with his obscene scrawl, which he almost certainly didn’t find out until...whenever they covered it on Newsmax. Children in fairy tales are not this easy to manipulate.
Imagine what Putin’s been pulling. Seriously, just fucking IMAGINE.
Like, no wonder the skeevy freaks squatting in our Pentagon are still fucking with the Biden transition team. Whether they’re frantically harvesting every available state secret in a desperate last-minute bid to buy the pee tape off Vlad Putin, or just shredding and deleting the evidence of a four-year spree of crime and treachery, I’m sure their hands are full.
Louie Gohmert and a bunch of his dumbest, fashiest friends have asked a federal court to grant Mike Pants magical new president-selecting powers, like maybe the founding fathers built a secret backdoor into the Constitution, some kind of “JUST KIDDING ABOUT ELECTIONS, ya chumps, really a defeated Vice President can pick whoever he wants” thing. Seriously, anybody. Dane Cook. Marianne Williamson. An aardvark. Whatever Mike Pence decides. (When it turns out to be some minor celebrity known only to aficionados of scat porn, I won’t say I toldja so, BUT...)
Meanwhile, Covid-19 has now killed 1 in every 1000 Americans. Well, Covid-19 in conjunction with its willing partner, that uniquely American illness known as Trumpism. Credit where it’s due.
Well, this is the very last time the damnéd year twenty-twenty will host our little rendezvous, my friends. I’m gonna google “What IPA pairs well with salting the earth?” and perform a ritual exorcism or two...you stay safe out there.
*Lock Him Up chants and everything. I guarantee it.
** Whenever Hannity cuts to commercial
Okay, A Relief Bill, a Cyberattack, and an Ongoing Coup Attempt Walk Into a Bar... (F/SC)
With less than a month to go ‘til Old Handsome Joe’s inauguration, the Stoopid Coo is getting stoopider so quickly, I do believe we’re going to need more Os. The Coo is at least Stooopid at this point, and historians suggest we may yet attain levels approaching Stoooopid, or even Stüpid, by January.
(Links a-plenty and other goodies here: http://showercapblog.com/okay-a-relief-bill-a-cyberattack-and-an-ongoing-coup-attempt-walk-into-a-bar/)
The long and short of it is, the electorally vanquished Velveeta Vulgarian, now blasting through diapers at a heretofore unimaginable pace with the legal immunity granted by his office set to slip through those tiny, inadequate fingers forever, is currently American history’s most dangerously powerful cornered animal. It’s not awesome.
Elected Republican officials, with their instinctual gutlessness, hoped to hold the Manchurian Manchild’s hand, soothe his tyrannical tantrums, and ease him out of power. You gave him an inch AGAIN, and he took a mile AGAIN, you unteachable dumbfucks. Tell us again about all the lessons he learned from impeachment, Senator Collins.
Because while you sniveling invertebrates dithered, Hairplug Himmler seized the narrative with his heinous voter fraud lies, and in doing so, cemented his hold on the turd-gargling mob y’all call your base, which wouldn’t have happened if you’d simply acknowledged the incontrovertible results of the goddamn election a month and a half ago, but of course that would have required decency and courage, and now I’m embarrassed for even bringing it up.
While I’ve got your attention, Senators, didja like that menacing e-mail Tangerine Idi Amin sent to your caucus, by way of one Addison Mitchell McConnell Jr.? Yeah, this is your richly-deserved life now, campers. END AMERICAN DEMOCRACY FOR ME OR I MAKE GETTING REVENGE ON YOU MY FULL TIME JOB. This shit was never gonna turn out any other way, you absolute clowns.
(Regarding the threat itself...old man, nobody hates Wrinkly Gamera more than the American left, but he is the sole reason you’re still plotting in the Oval instead of begging the warden for half an hour of Twitter access right now.)
Of course, worse, and even more treacherous than those who merely facilitate this fascist farce with their pusillanimity, are the active co-conspirators. We’re playing chicken here; with reality, yes, but also with some deeply dangerous ideas about how power is to be seized and wielded in this country, and sure, more Republicans are swerving out of the way every single day, great, but the thing with Donald Trump is, there’s always somebody even crazier waiting in the wings to take the last crazy guy’s place. Always.
So now, Government Cheese Goebbels has assembled the nuttiest, shoddiest, grungiest team in the history of team-assembling montages; a poo-spattered hodgepodge of the most maliciously insane bigots and nitwits from the entire Altman-sized cast of this demented, inescapable, half-decade-long reality show.
Known traitor and felon Michael Flynn. Sidney Fucking Powell, who he actually tried to install as a special counsel. A disgraced former CEO who...Jesus, I can’t even write it, you wouldn’t believe me, see for yourself. These maniacs have been huddling in the Shart House, brainstorming innovative new uses for the U.S. Military, like seizing voting machines, or even holding the election all over again, presumably at gunpoint. These people created a scenario where Ken Cuccinelli found himself in the unlikely role of Responsible, Coup-Denying Adult in the Room, which surely surprised no one more than the Cooch himself.
Think of it as a game with nauseatingly high stakes, as these malignant crotchtumors try to figure out some way to use the terrifyingly substantial powers of the American Presidency to end the system of government outlined in the Constitution. We’re certainly lucky the players are morons, but even senior military officials are worried about what these jagoffs will try to pull.
Shit, it’s gotten too freaky for Rudy Giuliani, a man whose life has encompassed experiences ranging from treason to incest to the single most dignity-disintegrating public meltdown yet known to mankind. We are standing just outside the doors even Mike Pompeo and William Barr wouldn’t open, and what lies beyond those creeps’ ethical boundaries is not real fun to think about.
Plenty of willing accomplices on the House GOP side, however. Alabama's Mo Brooks has hatched a plot so crazy it just might work, kidding, it’s a really stupid plan with no chance of success, just like the other 906 stupid plans, but it would still be really cool if Republicans could maybe stop trying to overturn the election.
(This seditious horseshit has the support of all the usual zealots: Gym Jordan, Louie Gohmert, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Madison Cawthorn, and I actually can’t keep listing them because I’m afraid my brain will spontaneously die, contemplating the thought that these frothing imbeciles actually write our laws.)
Anyway, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. We’ve got a whole fuckin’ month of this shit left, and lemme tell you folks, if you get a push notification announcing Stephen Miller resigned in protest, you duck and cover right that fucking second.
I’m glad Donnie Two-Scoops got one last chance to publicly betray the United States on behalf of his Kremlin masters, for old time’s sake. I honestly got a little misty, watching him shamelessly block for Putin, one last time, after Russia’s massive, warlike cyberattack on (checks notes) the country he is President of.
Well, with the early vote in the Georgia Senate runoffs surging amidst rumors that conspiracy-addled Republican voters may sit this one out, believing the system to be “rigged,” (Reaping, sowing, what are they, and how do they work?) Mitch McConnell finally decided to allow Congress to pass a wee lil’ coronavirus relief bill, lest the plebs catch on that he and his plutocrat party view them as little more than mulch for their donor class’ gardens.
The sausage-making process on this one would make Upton Sinclair retch. Democrats, with their silly bleeding hearts, sought to alleviate the suffering of the millions of ordinary Americans who’ve been repeatedly taint-punted, every goddamn day for ten goddamn months, by the current administration’s disastrous pandemic mismanagement. Yertle and his team of obedient Koch Industries accountants, excuse me, “U.S. Senators” said, “I’m sure we can work something out...but it’ll cost ya.”
So yeah, we won some much-needed relief for our poor, battered country. Meanwhile, the GOP used the public’s plight as leverage to extract concessions like the “three-martini lunch“ deduction, and I don’t know about you, but right about now I could really go for a nice, long lecture on how the Democratic Party needs to embrace populism to win back the white working class.
Not since Alex Jones got his ass whooped by yogurt have we witnessed such a pleasurable legal smackdown of the mendacious right-wing media bullies who’ve inflicted so much harm on this nation. Under threat of a “red slime” lawsuit (and encountering that little term was love at first sight) from voting machine companies slandered by a desperate death cult, the likes of Fux and Newsmax are frantically backpedaling, like...something people might commonly associate with backpedaling, which I cannot for the life of me think of at this time. Like, I dunno, a duck? But it’s nervous, or...something? This joke was a mistake.
So I understand the Batshit Emperor, from his fetid throne atop an impossibly-high mound of human skulls, spends his days fantasizing about all the bright, shiny airports they’re gonna name after him. Let me spoil this one for you, you ruptured fistula: in the future, when people put your name on the side of a building, it won’t be a commemoration, it’ll be a hate crime.
Speaking of buildings, Donald Trump, and racism; this motherfucker actually issued a lame-duck executive order mandating white supremacy in the architectural design of all new federal buildings going forward. Not making that up, he actually fucking did that. Same dude who keeps threatening vetoes over keeping the names of traitors on our military bases. Something something economic anxiety.
A heavily armed mob of Oregon’s whitest and shittiest, including members of Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s Brownshirts-in-waiting, the Proud Boys, attempted to storm the Capitol, clashing with state police. (Wait, I’m confused, do blue lives matter, or nah?) This is sectarian terrorist violence, by the way, in case anyone was wondering what America has become.
A late flurry of pardons, likely not the last, for a couple of corrupt Congressmen, a few war criminals, and little Georgie Papaderpaderp. Cool crime ring you’ve got there, Republicans. Did you know it used to be a political party?
So yeah, that’s...what’s happening. In real life. Wheeeeee. Tune in next week to see what these losers try next. Fuck. I’m tired.
I Regret to Inform a Nation Already Drowning in Sorrow...A Democrat Has Uttered a Swear (F/SC)
This transition shit is killing me, y’all. Longtime readers know I’ve often likened life under the Turd Reich to being trapped in a dryer full of hammers and badgers. Ok, so the dryer has finally stopped now, and I love that, I do, but the badgers are still a problem, and as long as I’ve got all these hammers, I’m just gonna keep beating this metaphor to death. I’m ready to climb out of the dryer altogether, is all I’m saying.
(Color? Links? The opportunity to sign up for regular updates? All here: http://showercapblog.com/i-regret-to-inform-a-nation-already-drowning-in-sorrow-a-democrat-has-uttered-a-swear/)
Hey, what if a power-crazed Trump stooge with delusions of grandeur threw a thirsty climber party and nobody came? Personally, I have no idea, but ask Mike Pompeo, he’d know. I’m not sure who’ll ultimately come out on top in the Grifter Game of Thrones that’s coming when Cult45 decides to anoint a new high priest, but I do know Pompeo, with his irrepressible disdain for humanity and his resting thug face, doesn’t have what it takes. On the other hand, watching him figure that out the hard way is going to be mighty amusing.
It appears Uncle Vlad Putin managed to squeeze in one last massive cyberattack before control of the federal government reverts to people who actually like the United States and want to defend it. The scope of this attack is so mind-boggling and terrifying that I’m honestly having a hard time wrapping my head around it; these articles read like Jack Ryan movie plots.
Of course, the Velveeta Vulgarian isn’t doing one fucking thing about this act of war by a hostile foreign power; he hasn’t even mentioned it, no one expects him to, and boiled though we may be, my weary frog comrades, this is a normalization too far, or it ought to be, anyway. When the nation is attacked, the President should be able to pull himself away from the talking teevee box long enough for a “Hey, quit that, you!” at the very least.
But no, our guy is too busy wringing as much lame-duck spite out of his office as possible, attempting to appoint special counsels to investigate “election fraud,” and also Hunter Biden, because somehow even the last month has failed to teach the doddering old twerp that lies don’t magically transform into admissible evidence if you just tweet them enough.
“We want them infected,” reads a newly-discovered e-mail from Paul Alexander, one of the demented little Trumpkins who infiltrated and derailed the nation’s coronavirus response. Paul was upset, you see, that all those dumb cuck doctors and scientists at the Department of (checks notes) Health and Human Services were spending so much time and energy trying to save American lives when clearly the only correct course was to shovel the plebs into the furnace as quickly as possible, lest our plutocrat overlords experience the slightest turbulence in their standard of living.
Just under the wire, Rand Paul became the very first elected Republican to make an honest statement in public during the year our Lord 2020, musing, “I’m very, very concerned that if you solicit votes from typically non-voters, that you will affect and change the outcome,” (this practice is commonly known as “campaigning.”) but then Josh Hawley kicked Rand under the table to remind him to stick to incendiary innuendo, cuz we’re never gonna get more voter suppression laws if we openly confess to despising democracy.
Ron Johnson is as traitorous as he is stupid*, and thus he staged a hearing before the Senate Homeland Security Committee wherein he loudly and repeatedly betrayed the homeland. Now, Johnson is about as dumb as dudes get, (Who can forget the time Jack Lew successfully tricked RoJo into missing a crucial floor vote by alleging he had “Got (Senator Johnson’s) nose” and refusing to give it back?) but he is still a sitting U.S. Senator, spewing lunatic conspiracy theories straight out of Alex Jones’ cough syrup overdose hallucinations, and any time the GOP wants to stop driving their voters hatefully, violently insane would be fine with me.
“Oh Cap, you’re exaggerating!” some would say. “It’s not as though heavily armed maniacs are rampaging around the country, running innocent people off the road and menacing them at gunpoint over completely fabricated allegations of voter fraud OH WAIT THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT’S HAPPENING, Cap you handsome, tricksy bastard, you’ve done it again!”
Living in history is so gobsmackingly inane these days, we have to talk about electoral betting markets now. We have multiple betting market stories, in fact; the scraping sound you’re hearing is your brain trying to dig its way out of your skull.
President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster himself cites a fleeting moment on election night when online gamblers misread the results and pissed their money away accordingly as “evidence” he wuz robbed, and shit, even Sidney Powell does better work than that, kid.
Actually, these betting markets are ground zero right now for the explosive collision of two of nature’s fiercest foes: MAGA Nation and Objective Reality. We’re talking about folks who not only bet money that Trump would win, but kept on betting more and more AFTER Election Day. Like, watched Rudy shit his pants across the street from a dildo dispensary, and said to themselves, “Oh, it’s in the bag now, hoss, time to take out a second mortgage!”
And now, these deeply rational people are throwing deeply rational shitfits because the gambling sites are finally starting to pay out on Biden, after sixty kajillion humiliating legal defeats plus the formal vote of the Electoral College. They’re going to file a lawsuit n’ everything. I was skeptical once, but you truly can fool some of the people all of the time.
Serious question: with so many different grifters picking their pockets, how do the Children of the Candy Corn manage to hang onto enough money to feed and clothe themselves? Maybe y’all can reduce your Economic Anxiety™️ a little by cutting into your Blank Checks to Charlatans budget?
I swear, I barely bat an eye anymore at each new “Jared Kushner funneled the rubes’ campaign contributions straight into the family coffers” story. Fucking of course he did. A dumbfuck death cult and its money are soon parted; I think Ben Franklin said that.
Biden aide Jen O’Malley Dillon referred to Republicans as “fuckers,” which is, by any objective measure, a grossly insufficient label for the gaggle of psychotic plutocrats who got 300,000 people killed this year while simultaneously attempting to end American democracy on behalf of a serial sex offender who cages children, steals millions from the Treasury, and generally runs the federal government like Putin’s personal trained marmot.
...sorry, got distracted there, where was I? OH YES, Fuckersgate. Republicans unleashed a tide of such righteous indignation at this abominable act of profanity that you’d never know they’d spent the previous four years suckling on the buttpimples of a cheap fascist hoodlum who has literally inspired multiple acts of terrorist violence with his reckless rhetoric. And we laughed right in their faces, because enduring the sermons of the demonstrably immoral is on the list of Shit Democrats Don’t Do Anymore, right behind “taking the Rust Belt for granted.”
Mike Flynn should be in prison right now, but instead, he’s making the rounds on the emerging We’re Gonna Make You Miss Fox Before We’re Through wingnutosphere, begging his old boss to impose martial law and rerun the election until he gets the result he wants. I feel like a simple “thank for you the wildly undeserved pardon” would have been sufficient, but calling for a military coup is also a choice. Apparently.
I see the Turdmaggot Administration is already fucking up the coronavirus vaccine rollout, and I know, I know, as far as news goes, this is roughly equivalent to BREAKING: Fonzie Says Ayyyyyy. Atrocities and crimes aside, we should have impeached these goons the minute we witnessed their struggles with tasks as rudimentary as Easter Egg Roll-staging and light switch-finding; this shitshow was always going to end in mass graves.
I see whichever purge-elevated Undersecretary in Charge of Coordinating the Office Lunch Order is currently acting head of DoD decided to stop cooperating with the Biden transition team, citing the Pentagon’s existing workload, or “day job,” as an anonymous official put it, because god forbid we ask the leadership of the most powerful military force on the planet to walk and chew gum at the same time. We should probably stop sending these folks out to invade places, y’know?
I think we’re still supposed to be mad about Jill Biden’s doctorate, by the way. In fairness, it must be pretty tough to manufacture new distracting outrage content when everyone is either trapped inside their home or hooked up to a ventilator.
Ok, I’m gonna grab a beer and feed the badgers. If anybody’s looking to get me a last-minute Xmas gift, I do have a few stray thoughts on the matter...
*This implies Johnson is “as traitorous as a bag of hammers.” Or “so traitorous he couldn’t find his own dick with a map.” Perhaps even “about as loyal as a bowling ball.” I didn’t really think this bit through, is what I’m telling you.
Please! No More Winning! It's Like a Goddamn Kesha Song in Here! (F/SC)
Look, I didn’t expect things to be totally back to normal by now; that’s obviously not a reasonable ask. At the same time, I feel as though we all expected the promised reduction in the daily delirium level to have kicked in by now, instead we’re still stuck in traffic ten feet outside the Mouth of Madness, and it’s not awesome. I don’t want to be that guy, but I really have to insist on speaking to a manager.
(All them links n’ shit can be found here: http://showercapblog.com/please-no-more-winning-its-like-a-goddamn-kesha-song-in-here/)
Apologies for disrupting the ceaseless champagne hangover/hair-of-the-dog cycle we’ve been trapped in for the last month, but I regret to inform you Team Decency has once again emerged victorious in the 2020 presidential election, several different times since we last spoke, actually; most significantly when the Electoral College finally, formally did its thing. I’m sorry, we have to start the victory party all over. Yes, again! I don’t make the rules.
...Donald Trump does! Heh. Doddering old twit just keeps on filing new appeals, too. Maybe public humiliation on a global scale is like, addictive? I don’t think anyone in human history has experienced so much losing in front of so many people in such a short time; it’s a truly staggering achievement in the field of losing.
We’ve actually stumbled backwards into an entirely new form of drama here, one where the outcome is never, for a single passing moment, in doubt, but where you get to experience the catharsis part over and over again, like a monkey hooked up to a morphine drip, just pluggin’ away at that little button in your paw. Winning actually IS exhausting, who knew?
But let’s get back to the losing side of the coin, the Republican side, because shit’s getting pretty dang weird on that side. I forget sometimes, they’re really still in their infancy as a death cult, only beginning to understand the monster they’ve become. Watching it happen in real time, here in the dying days of the Turd Reich, is...well, it’s a goddamn marvel of human psychology, is it not? I never thought I would live to see such behavior in my country.
Following the collapse of Ken Paxton’s lawsuit, which wasn’t a real lawsuit at all, but rather one corrupt politician’s desperate plea for a presidential pardon wearing a shitty, store-bought lawsuit costume, Allen West, who the Texas GOP, in their wisdom, made their Chairman, called for a second secession. Over an argument so ridiculously treasonous and treasonously ridiculous that strong cases have been made to disbar the lawyers involved.
Frankly, I’m not sure we should stop ‘em. If there’s anyone out there who would truly follow a legitimate maniac like Allen West out of the United States of America to start a new life in Dumbfuckistan, that feels like an addition by subtraction scenario to me. Give ‘em some of those wide open spaces they’re so fond of on their precious election maps.
It’s certainly been amusing, watching Republican Senators try to game out precisely how many unnecessary recounts and legal humiliations will provide sufficient cover to finally issue that mewling “Alas, my Lord, Ol’ Tricksy Joe and his deep state goblins seem to have pulled this one off, I guess it’s time at last to reluctantly accept this six-week-old truth” statement.
And now Mitch McConnell, the man who single-handedly broke American politics, is reduced to begging his gibbering nitwit caucus to pretty please stop enabling the President’s fantasy/tantrum because technically it is a coup c’mon you guys you said you wouldn’t!
They’re supposed to be our leaders, but they’ve allowed themselves to be horsewhipped into submission by a reality TV show character. In case anyone was wondering how it came to this.
Yes, tales of Republicans Losing Badly are quite diverting...right up until we remember the feral rank-and-file, anyway. You’ll never guess what went down at the so-called Stop the Steal rally in Washington, D.C. over the weekend WHOOPS SPOILERS it was RIGHT WING STREET VIOLENCE, how uncharacteristic of a movement that’s been lionizing a child terrorist for weeks!
Yeah, it turns out even a successful election is not an off switch, not for the kind of virulent hatred Donald Trump has unleashed. And so we watched as a lurching hate mob kicked and stabbed its way though the streets of our nation’s capital, stealing Black Lives Matter banners directly off the walls of Black churches and setting them on fire, in case of any this has been too subtle for anyone.
Howling the American President’s name all the while. It’s the Naziest thing I’ve seen since they made me watch actual footage of Hitler in school.
Quick shoutout to all those aforementioned Republican Senators, cowering in the corners of your offices in fear of mean tweets, yes, that was DESTROY THE GOP the slavering throng was chanting; the Frankenstein lesson will be administered as many times as is necessary. Anyhoo, congratulations on allowing Donald Trump to build a literal terrorist army, answerable only to him, golly I sure hope he doesn’t decide to avail himself of that power, once he’s free of all his Washington handlers, anyway, the tax cuts and judges were worth it, surely.
...but hey, the baseball team in Cleveland is changing its name, so I guess we’ll call it a draw for now, Institutional Racism. Sigh.
In the legal(ish) trenches of the Stoopid Coo, the latest strategy appears to be dressing up like official Electoral College electors and putting on little plays where everyone pretends they’re in the Electoral College, and then pretending these plays grant them some sort of legal standing. Somehow. Do you think there will be 2020 Electoral College reenactments someday?
The weekend provided an insightful little lesson on the mechanisms of Wingnut Outrage Theatre: the Wall Street Journal dug up some crusty old chauvinist to puke out an almost satirically condescending op-ed shitting on Dr. Jill Biden, that uppity broad, for having the audacity to use the title she earned through years of hard work.
Following the entirely predictable (and deliberately provoked) avalanche of pushback, the editorial page gleefully published a non-apology so cynical they surely had it prepped in advance, bemoaning the thousand tyrannies of “cancel culture,” because the tree of conservative victimhood must be refreshed from time to time with the crocodile tears of mediocre white dudes.
Turns out every single person, real or fictitious, who ever told you life ain’t fair gets a Geppetto Checkmark, because high-ranking officials of the Die Plebs Die administration get to jump to the front of the vaccination line, even after leading a sinister disinformation campaign that’s claimed hundreds of thousands of lives, with no end in sight. I bet Westley and Buttercup don’t live happily ever after, either.
I’m not sure precisely how many times I’ve read the phrase “grim milestone” in 2020, but it’s been a whole fuckin’ bunch; just a natural side effect of the collision of gaslighting kakistocracy and a deadly pandemic, I suppose. The official death toll (still almost certainly an undercount) rolled past 300,000 and I have to tell you, friends, after this hell-sent year spent in a nation gone murderously mad, I will never again expect any human society to behave rationally.
Michigan Congresscreep Paul Mitchell No Not the Shampoo Guy would very much like to bask in your adulation, now that he’s chosen this moment in time, on the very brink of his retirement from national politics, to offer the meaningless-if-showy gesture of formally quitting the Republican Party. Paul spent the last four years rubber stamping every crime and atrocity, but on CNN the other day, he was so goshdarn brave n’ principled n’ truth-teller-y, you’d never know he declined the opportunity to vote for impeachment. Very brave fellow though.
Well, Redactor General William Barr has been sent to live out his days on a concentration camp upstate, where he’ll have plenty of space to run around. I confess I’m particularly curious about Bilious Bill’s next move; does one really get to settle into a nice, cushy think tank fellowship after one very publicly attempts to dismantle American democracy? Does the architect of the police state crackdown in Lafayette Square really get to spend the rest of his life antiquing, whimsically reminiscing about the glory days when he nearly made a dictator of a blithering manchild? Why has science failed to develop a catapult capable of reaching the sun?
Goddamn, this shit wears me out. Wonder how many times Joe n’ Kamala won the election while I was writing today? I’m gonna grab a beer and find out. As always, stay safe out there, Resisters...
For a Guy Who Hates Being Called a Loser, He Really is Losing an Awful Lot (F/SC)
I think I speak for everyone in asking, “Whose bright fucking idea was it to stretch out the transition so goddamn long?” It’s waaaaaaaay past time to start tossing all the ill-fitting suits and stale cheeseburgers out on the White House lawn. Get on with it.
(Here’s your link to the blog site with all the shiny colors and news links: http://showercapblog.com/for-a-guy-who-hates-being-called-a-loser-he-really-is-losing-an-awful-lot/)
We’re still doing the blockhead-coup-in-the-middle-of-a-pandemic-run-amuck thing, if you were curious. Yup, we’re headed into a period where the death toll is expected to exceed 9/11’s, every single day for 60 to 90 days, while the energies of the federal government focus exclusively on an insane attempt to end democracy in America using only chewing gum and imbecility.
I dunno about y’all, but going forward, I’m gonna take a hard pass on sitting through any stern moralizing about the sanctity of life from the shrieking cultists turning the handle on the meat grinder that’s chewing through three thousand American lives every 24 hours.
ANYWAY.
You’ll be delighted to learn that yes, there is indeed a plan in place to aerate, cleanse, scour, boil, exorcise, disinfect, and generally detoxify the White House before Joe n’ Kamala move in. I’m confident they’ll successfully turn that fetid plague pit into a safe and functional workplace, but I fear the current occupant’s loserstink will linger for some time.
Incestuous celebrity crackpot Rudy Giuliani is making a speedy recovery from COVID-19, thanks to access to extremely expensive, cutting edge medical treatments reserved for presidential co-conspirators. Nothing says “populism” quite like evading the consequences of your own mass-murdering disinformation spree via elites-only health care, right? Also, the ghost of Herman Cain is wondering why he didn’t merit the good shit, but of course everyone else figured that one out pretty quick, didn’t they?
Presidential Medal of Freedom Defiler Rush Limbaugh casually promoted secession on his show the other day, alongside the customary snake oils and doomsday prep kits. Let me just say that inciting a posthumous civil war is an absolute garbage way to go out, and if there’s any sort of judgment at all awaiting on the other side, hoooooooooooooooooooo you in trouble, son.
Scandal at the CDC, as Director Robert Redfield stands accused of ordering employees to delete an e-mail containing a sinister Shart House attempt to meddle in public health science, and of course the real scandal is the fucking meddling, and should all this wind up with nobody but Redfield facing legal repercussions for this administration’s mudslide of lies, I’m going to leave America a sharply-worded Yelp review, believe you me.
No sooner was Dick Hinch elected Speaker of the New Hampshire House of Representatives than he caught COVID-19, almost certainly at a largely maskless GOP event, and died. This would serve as a tidy little lesson for Republicans, were they capable of learning. I would, of course, be derelict in my duties if I allowed this paragraph to pass without engaging in a hearty, juvenile chuckle at the name “Dick Hinch.”
Call Ken Paxton the Pied Piper of Perfidious Pricks, because 126 sitting U.S. Congresstraitors, including Leader McCarthy, signed onto his clownish, pathetic, I Can Haz Pardon? attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election, presumably by presenting such a cringeworthy argument to the Supreme Court that they award Weehands McNodick a second term out of pity.
‘Course, it’s the very flimsiness of Paxton’s case that makes these collaborating bastards’ actions so unforgivable. Knowing the outcome in advance doesn’t change the fact that y’all signed your good names to a document asking the highest court in the land to steal the right of self-determination from the American people, and to do so on behalf of the undisputed shittiest President in history, right in the middle of a mass-casualty catastrophe for which he is directly responsible. It’s gotta be said: y’all weren’t raised right.
If I may be so bold as to resurrect an old catchphrase, it’s never too early to encourage everyone to VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS, because vesting lawmaking authority in McCarthy’s caucus of power-crazed, fascist-curious, so-much-Stockholm-Syndrome-you’ll-get-sick-of-Stockholm-Syndrome subpar white dudes seems unwise.
Apparently, God overheard somebody saying, “Well at least this shit can’t get any stupider,” and in His wisdom He did send forth the dipshit representatives of made-up states that exist only in the minds of the seditious and witless to join forces with the Stoopid Coo. Four years of kakistocracy have certainly emboldened the nation’s dumbasses.
I confess I’ve never spared a single stray thought to the politics of Morocco, outside of the odd Bogart flick, but I do know that whatever the state of their affairs, their government should not be able to manipulate the President of the United States like a crusty sock puppet, yet...here we are. Taking advantage of Fat Q*bert’s monstrous thirst for adulation earned with minimal effort, Morocco tricked the Lamest of All Possible Ducks into official American recognition of their occupation of Western Sahara in exchange for normalizing relations with Israel (with a little grift on the side, of course). The unhinged cackle you’re hearing now is me, ruminating that all this started with a ghostwritten book about dealmaking.
Despite overwhelming bipartisan support, Utah Senator Mike Lee single-handedly blocked proposed expansions to the Smithsonian honoring the history of women and Latinos in America, because he believes acknowledging any culture except his own is “divisive.” Now, this is, objectively, white, male supremacy, and there’s no arguing otherwise, even in this age of gaslighting and alternative facts, but if you point out this simple, obvious truth, oh what a patronizing lecture you receive!
Redactor General William Barr, denied the opportunity to continue his fashy makeover of the Justice Department, is consoling himself by squeezing as much state-sponsored murder as possible into the transition period. Brandon Bernard was executed Thursday, and four additional murders are scheduled for the Turd Reich’s waning days. Nobody’s any safer, or stronger, or healthier, or happier, but hey, the right-wing death cult gets a few more hits of their drug of choice.
Mitch McConnell finds the bipartisan coronavirus relief compromise insufficiently plutocrat-friendly, so no relief for you, peasants, all your suffering and death represents simply an opportunity to extract concessions from those chump politicians who actually care whether you live or die.
Hey, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we actually have a phenomenal opportunity to take this megalomaniacal monster’s power away from him, and fire two cartoonishly corrupt oligarchs in the process! Please do whatever you can to help elect Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff on January 5th! The very course of history hangs in the balance, but, y’know...no pressure.
I see Devin Nunes caught the ‘rona. This presents a golden opportunity to study whether the virus is transmissible through human/pig sexual intercourse, condolences in advance to the laboratory assistant tasked with collecting the necessary samples.
Well, just while I was wrapping up tonight, before half the House Treason Caucus could even complete their Why I’m Fascist Now tweetstorms, SCOTUS rejected the Paxton “lawsuit,” and so, at long last, all the Kraken have been slain. Obviously, everybody’s got a great deal of laughing to get to in the aftermath of all this losing, so I’ll leave y’all to it.
Seriously, I’m cackling so hard I expect the neighbors to complain. Although they put up with the show tunes in the shower, or, now that I think of it, maybe they don’t, and the prospect of a long quarantine winter of Chess and Pippin has them plotting my demise. I’m gonna have some beers and think about my choices, friends; stay safe out there.
Turns Out Things Get Kinda Zany When You're Prying Power Away From a Death Cult (F/SC)
Y’know, I really do love worrying less about what the crazy man is doing with the power of the American presidency, but watching the Republican Party congeal into its next, apparently equally grotesque form is...hoo boy. It’s somethin’. Like, “oh, we’re keeping ALL the crazy parts, huh? That’s...a choice.”
(As always, you can get all them nifty news links here: http://showercapblog.com/turns-out-things-get-kinda-zany-when-youre-prying-power-away-from-a-death-cult/)
I don’t get it. Why are they still so feverishly loyal to Donald Trump, who can no longer navigate even his periodic ceremonial duties without A) whinging like a kid who didn’t get the Happy Meal toy he wanted, and B) waddling around aimlessly like someone who has never once in his life experienced a human social interaction?
Remember when you thought you lived in the greatest, most advanced country in the history of the world? Well, here we are, facing the deadliest days of this pandemic to date, worse off than any nation on Earth, because a political movement built on fascist-style disinformation finally bent our culture to the point where it snapped like balsa wood.
Spreading the coronavirus has essentially become a point of cultural pride for the president’s followers, which has of course proven catastrophic, but let’s not lose sight of just how deeply insane that shit is. This movement’s gleeful complicity in its own gaslighting, even in the face of mass casualties, is, by my calculations, the single mathematically damndest thing I have ever seen.
Gameshow Göring slithered down to Georgia for one of his precious hate rallies, allegedly in support of Loeffler and Perdue, who were paraded before the mob just long enough to absorb their manic “fight for Trump” chants. Heh. You clods thought he came all that way to help you? To give you a hand, out of the goodness of his heart? Does that sound like Donald Trump to you?
No, he was there to threaten y’all. “You want me to drive these cattle to the polls? Shit, you need me to, if you’re to have a snowball’s chance of competing with the massive coalition that rose up in opposition to my avalanche of atrocities. Well, you heard ‘em: fight for Trump.”
Alternatively, he can bring their bovine fury down upon your head; just ask Brian Kemp. I mean, the election is over. The fight is lost. Georgia’s votes have been counted three times and certified twice. But still, Hairplug Himmler calls to demand deliverance from democracy.
“There’s simply no way to accomplish that, Mr. President,” Kemp frantically attempts to explain, but it is an unforgiving Turd God you Republicans have elevated; you get him what he wants or he feeds you to the volcano.
See, that’s what pushes this shit over the line from garden-variety authoritarianism to pure Trumpist madness: not only must you overthrow the entire American system of government for your Maggot Monarch, he also requires you to design the whole plan from scratch and put in all the legwork yourself, and if you could get that done by the time he’s finished golfing, that’d be stupendous. The laziness in the face of such astronomical stakes is...Garfieldian.
Anyway, this particular excommunication ritual has been repeated countless times these last four years, yet somehow Republicans just keep lining up to get fed, one after another, into the wood chipper. Y’know, one of the reasons this party is so bad at governing is that they’re incapable of learning. (And 2020’s lessons have not been subtle.)
Like, what sort of Stalinist fun house are we locked in where only 27 of the 249 Republicans in the House and Senate are willing to acknowledge, on the record with the Washington Post, the objective truth of Joe Biden’s landslide victory? It’s not in dispute. You wouldn’t ask Roy Blunt if mustard exists.
Look at this silly, childish inaugural committee vote. Sure, it’s just some arcane bit of political theatre we never once thought about, but it’s still the leaders of the congressional Republican Party, frickin’ Mitch McConnell and Kevin McCarthy, lending the prestige of their offices to this dangerous drivel, and fucking OF COURSE it’s radicalizing millions of Americans.
Meanwhile, Texas AG Ken Paxton, certainly no stranger to bringing shame upon his office, picked up a half-eaten crayon and drafted his own warped, treasonous parody of a lawsuit, demanding the invalidation of crucial swing states’ election results, because the voices that speak to him through his molars are reasonably confident there was oodles of fraud.
Will any of this clownish fuckery succeed? Fucking of course not, it’s shitty performance art designed to distract and manipulate a colicky manchild king, but it’s also gasoline on millions of fires burning in millions of individual rabbit holes. This is how we wind up with armed terrorists besieging Michigan Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson’s private residence. I was really hoping the GOP would get out of the stochastic terror business post-Dotard, but I suppose these moral weaklings will never stop finding new ways to let us down, will they?
Yeah, seems like home delivery has become quite the popular innovation in wingnut rage swarm circles; the trend is really taking off in Idaho, where death cultists, excuse me, "anti-maskers" terrorized a 12-year-old child in his home, in the name of preserving the coronavirus’ God-given right to spread, unimpeded, from host to host.
Ron DeSantis finally earned his Police State Crackdown merit badge, sending armed officers to raid a coronavirus whistleblower’s home, menacing her children at gunpoint. See, Ron-Ron shows us where the Trump-infected Republican Party is headed; thuggish, mediocre white dudes experimenting with state violence to see how much they can get away with. Fascism filtered through the frat house. Gonna be great.
All across the nation, pundits shouted BINGO, as Rudy Giuliani became the latest Shart House figure to contract COVID-19. He was quickly joined by fellow Elite Legal Ninja Strike Force With Laser Eyes Too team member Jenna Ellis; the uninfected list is pretty much down to Betsy DeVos and Eric’s sex pillow, the one bearing Betty Rubble’s faded, crusty likeness.
Typhoid Rudy’s treacherous vacation exposed so many Arizona Republicans they had to shut down both houses of the state legislature, an event which concisely illustrates why I seldom invite death cultists to game night.
And the Empress Malaria unveiled her snazzy new ”tennis pavilion,” because “reading the room” doesn’t translate into Slovenian. I can’t imagine future administrations will even use these courts, on account of the absolute certainty they will haunted by the restless Covid dead.
Nothing drives home the reality of American decline under the Turd Reich quite like watching coronavirus vaccination begin...in other countries. England started dispensing doses this week, and Canada won’t be far behind, but here in the U.S. we’re doing this wacky thing where we let malicious idiots make life-or-death decisions for the rest of us, I don’t get it either, ANYWAY point is we’ve still got quite a few weeks of rather intense dying ahead of us yet. Who’s a superpower NOW, huh?
And fucking of COURSE Doctor Dotard declined a deal to acquire millions of doses of the Pfizer vaccine for U.S. citizens. Of COURSE those doses, including many manufactured on American soil, will instead be shipped to foreign nations who had the good sense not to elect yam-brained assclowns. Never forget, America, you make this mistake, you pay for it every minute for four years, no days off for good behavior.
I see Princess Ivanka and Jar-Jar, understanding they’ll be despised forever by all decent human beings, bought themselves a plot of land on a heavily-guarded island for peasant-fearing billionaires, in a refreshing, if uncharacteristic acknowledgement of objective reality by high-ranking Trump administration officials.
The Arizona GOP, again, the very party exposed to a potentially lethal disease by Tangerine Idi Amin’s high priest just a few short days ago, apparently feels perfectly comfortable encouraging their base to die for Donald Trump, who would merrily set any one of them on fire for six dollars and a half-filled sandwich shop punch card. There’s gotta be a better cult you can join, guys. There’s just got to be.
And somehow Ron Johnson is still, STILL babbling about hyrdroxyfuckingchlorquine and platforming anti-science maniacs? Do we have to revisit drinking bleach and shining magic lights up our buttholes, too? Can we please move on from at least some of the lunacy? The parts that’re getting folks killed, anyhow?
You know deep in his broken, transactional heart, the Shart of the Deal truly expected the Supreme Court to gratefully deliver the United States government to him on a plate, to be looted in perpetuity by his shitty grifter spawn, so I sincerely hope some enterprising aide whipped out their phone in time to record the tantrum he threw when he received word they’d rejected his latest dumbfuck lawsuit. History deserves to see that tantrum. As do I, personally.
I really thought I was gonna make it through this shitstorm with my sanity scarred but basically intact, but watching Louie Gohmert’s tooth fall out, something deep within me finally snapped. Without quite understanding how, I find myself sewing an elaborate costume and working up a plot to kill the Batman. I...don’t even know where all this pleather came from.
What madness. And now Lou Dobbs and Stephen Miller are squabbling like shitty loser fascist cats and evil scumfuck Nazi dogs. 17 different Republican state attorneys general have joined Texas in their Pretty Please Murder Democracy For Us Amy Coney Barrett lawsuit, and...I dunno, I kinda thought everybody would be like, happy and relieved to leave the cray-cray con man death cult behind, but I guess some folks just like screeching gibberish while covered in their own filth. Different strokes.
Wait, what’s this? President Crotchvoid got Ted Cruz to agree to argue Paxton’s fatuous lawsuit before the Supreme Court? Don’t get me wrong, Ted’s ongoing debasement has been a welcome bright spot during dark times, but this is getting hard to watch. He’ll be dog-walking Cruz up and down the National Mall by a string of anal beads before long.
Well, forgive me for the unorthodox schedule this week, I’m adjusting to the post-election news cycle. If there’s not enough fresh bat guano by Friday to merit a full blog....hmmmm, I dunno what I’ll do. Might post a short one to get back on schedule, might post Saturday, might catch up next Monday. We’ll see. Only thing I know for certain is what comes next, which is drinking. Stay safe out there, friends.
"We're All Mad Here," the Georgia GOP's New Motto (F/SC)
Ah, another wondrous, fun-filled week, trapped in America with an idiot death cult hellbent on playing chicken with objective reality. You can check out any time you like, but...well, you know.
(“Oh, if only this post had helpful news links!” Your wish is my command: http://showercapblog.com/were-all-mad-here-the-georgia-gops-new-motto/)
I’m not gonna lie, the winning has been spectacular, but watching the vanquished Velveeta Vulgarian discover heretofore unimagined new ways to lose, all day, every day? It turns out that not only is the death of a would-be dictator’s dream a mighty goddamn satisfying thing to behold, but repetition doesn’t deaden the delight in the slightest. Keep on filin’ these lawsuits, Dotard, our appetite for your humiliation is insatiable.
Like, didja see where he threatened to veto the big defense spending bill, unless it includes his Revenge on Twitter For Being Mean to Me clause, and Congress just went, “Aw, look at the wee lame duck, he squawks so amusingly?” SO GOOD. I mean, I don’t want to get my hopes up, but a massive bipartisan veto override would make for an absolutely orgasmic capper to this glorious period of public degradation.
Also, President Shartcannon issued what he claimed was the “most important speech” of his reign, a meandering, lie-filled, 46-minute rant on why the final season of Game of Thrones was unsatisfactory or some shit; I dunno, I didn’t watch it, and neither did anybody else. Your once-mighty pulpit is turning to sand and running right through those tiny, inadequate fingers, isn’t it, little grifter?
Mike Flynn joined Roger Stone in calling for martial law, which strikes me as a smiiiiidge greedy for a couple of convicted felons who would be in prison right now were they not best buds (and co-conspirators) with the most corrupt President in American history. Quit while you’re ahead, boys.
Zounds, Republicans in Georgia sure are putting on a show; it’s like the Butter Battle Book, only nothing rhymes and everyone is a festering asshole. I wasted all my Frankenstein jokes last blog, and that was before Sidney Powell and Lin Wood proclaimed that deep state Democucks like Brian Kemp and Kelly Loeffler and David Perdue must be punished for their failure to deliver the Turd Emperor from democracy’s cruel jaws! Real Muricans must boycott the GOP in the coming runoff! There simply aren’t enough Frankenstein jokes to keep up with this crap!
Now Noot Gingrich is all, “Wait, we want you hateful and crazy but not THIS hateful and crazy!” as though there’s any corralling the rabid throng once you’ve spiked the punch bowl at the Klan rally with bath salts. So you see, electing Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff to the Senate not only pries power from Mitch McConnell’s tyrannical terrapin claw, it delivers sweetest pure cane justice to the very fucks who unleashed this plague of disinformation in the first place.
Like, this is what happens when you fail to condemn Rudy Giuliani as he farts his way through the national discourse, spreading dangerous, ridiculous lies that millions now believe. Yes, when the President of the United Frickin’ States’ lawyer platforms braindead maniacs, your army of credulous rubes will dutifully swallow whatever river of horseshit said maniacs belch forth; it’s what you’ve trained them to do. The cult giveth, and the cult taketh away.
More bad news, Republicans, not only has the mob grown too feral to tame, your own clumsy attempts at voter fraud have blown up in your faces, partially because voter fraud is extremely rare and easy to detect, partially because your man here is a massive dumbass with a stupid plan.
So yeah, here we are, on the brink of an election with control of the Senate at stake; Democrats more energized and organized than ever before, Republicans worried they’ve finally driven their base too insane to vote. It won’t be easy, but I like our chances; let’s win this shit.
I guess Crotchtumor, Jr. dreams of taking over the floundering, graft-wrecked National Rifle Association, like a needy child emulating Daddy’s work life with a plastic Playskool set: Baby’s First Death Cult. I like it, there’s an elegant loser symmetry in this pairing.
It’s kind of adorable, watching Senate Republicans’ flaccid attempts to resurrect their old Bad Faith Outrage Theatre shtick, like the last four years of oath-breaking, authoritarianism-enabling cowardice never happened. “Oh we couldn’t POSSIBLY confirm Neera Tanden, she sent mean tweets, P.S. everybody’s forgotten about that time the head of our party inspired a terrorist plot to storm the Michigan State Capitol in order to execute Governor Whitmer on live TV, right?”
Marsha Blackburn continues to behave like the most racist character in a Hollywood movie about racism, which I think is sort of a shame, on account of how she’s a U.S. Senator and all. Have I mentioned how cool it would be to seize the Senate from these shitty, shitty people? We should do that. In Georgia. In January.
Meanwhile, Operation: Rub My Ass All Over Everything Before Joe Gets Here continues, with a fresh round of purges at the Pentagon, and the last-minute installation of loyal bagmen like Corey Lewandowski and David Bossie. I bet Eric’s in charge of looting every supply cabinet in the executive branch, so that whatever grift they launch next year doesn’t have to buy paper clips or printer ink for a while.
Let’s see, what else’re these rat finks trying to fuck up on their way out the door? They’re rushing to auction off drilling rights in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, naturally, because Stephen Miller has encouraged everyone to pursue as much as evil as time will permit, I guess.
In another sign of the Turd Reich’s fading clout, Heidi Stirrup has been physically banned from the offices of the Justice Department. Who is Heidi Stirrup? Well, since we live in an extremely First World, not-at-all-a-shithole, healthy, functioning democracy, she is one of a series of spies appointed by the Shart House to keep tabs on the federal bureaucracy, and to make sure those uppity public servants aren’t letting the needs of the American people interfere with Hairplug Himmler’s political or financial interests. Heidi was digging for information to help her boss out with his attempted coup (remember that?), so we’re probably better off without her input.
Of course, one power remaining to Government Cheese Goebbels is the power of the pardon, and he’s clinging to it like a giant robot Rod Blagojevich made up of smaller robot Rod Blagojeviches. So if you’re wondering, “Why isn’t the president doing a single fucking thing about the pandemic that’s more out of control than ever, dear lord, it’s like 9/11 every day, why won’t he help us?” It’s because he’s trying to figure out exactly how much crime his parasitic family can get away with.
Now, I don’t know how he’s even managing it at this point, but I’ll be damned if Donnie Two-Scoops didn’t lose the election all over again, this time in Nevada, just while I was scribblin’ tonight. Oooooo, also Wisconsin! I never thought it was possible to lose so much in such a short time, he’s a miracle of fucking science.
Michigan now, too? Fuck, I have to stop now; I have a full evening of pointing and laughing ahead of me. I know y’all are (much) smarter than the average wingnut, but do stay extra-safe out there, friends; times are really quite intensely cray.
Losing Just Hurts More From Behind a Comically Small Desk (F/SC)
Well, I trust everyone enjoyed their long holiday weekend, and gave thanks for the extremely amusing ongoing downfall of one Donald John Trump, until recently the President of the United States, now merely an aesthetically displeasing perpetual motion losing machine.
(Wouldn’t it be nice to read this with all them nifty news links? http://showercapblog.com/losing-just-hurts-more-from-behind-a-comically-small-desk/)
I confess I didn’t follow every single election certification or humiliating court defeat, but the Seriously How Can One Man Lose This Much Show was a constant background presence, like the cheerily bland sitcom you keep on while you fold laundry or fiddle with your fantasy water polo team. Critics say it’s repetitive, but sometimes you just want fan service and comfort food, and what can I say, I like watching fascists step on rakes. Plus, whoever it is that’s playing Rudy Giuliani is phenomenal; doin’ some real Nic-Cage-meets-Lon-Chaney shit.
And you gotta love how Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops gets his hopes up every time Sidney Powell claims a talking salamander told her the voting machines in Pennsylvania were possessed by Vince Foster’s ghost or whatever. He truly expects this gibbering lunacy to hold up in court. His walnut brain can’t comprehend what’s happening to him; “I spend my father’s money until I get what I want” has been the universal truth of his entire skidmark life, y’see.
And so he kicks and screams and shits himself, and, because this is Hell, this doddering old bigot’s barely-coherent meltdowns are received as if from on high by his assclown acolytes, replacing reality with rage, consequences for American democracy be damned. Hell, he even found a handful of Pennsylvania state legislators willing to assist him in his attempted coup, which is kinda disappointing; ideally you’d like that number to be zero, I think.
There’s still plenty of last-minute fuckery to be perpetrated by the Turd Reich before Dad gets home, including a plan to Make Executions Medieval Again, because of course there’s some drooling wannabe supervillain in this buffet of assholes that wants to bring firing squads back. You sort of expect Stephen Miller to try to steal the physical Bill of Rights on the way out the door, just in case that works.
Well, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot did indeed pardon Mike “The Turkish Delight” Flynn, because honestly, is betraying your country really a crime if you hate Barack Obama a whole bunch? Now Rudy wants one, too (might need a couple; one for treason, one for Borat), so I hope you brought enough for everyone, Dotard.
The new Amy Coney Barrett-infused wingnut SCOTUS majority wasted little time flexing their meathead muscle, ruling that the death cult they serve has the right to spread plague in the name of religious liberty, which is insane in no small way. You read Gorsuch’s smug harangue, and you realize that A) the man lacks even a layman’s understanding of how the coronavirus spreads, and B) he feels not the slightest obligation to educate himself before wielding the awesome power of his office, and thus, Neil n’ Friendz merrily ruled in favor of the goddamn disease, against the American public, without a second thought. Not bangarang.
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has decided to cancel the Best Production Design category this year, to spare the nominees the shame of comparison to the genius who set up that wee Fisher-Price table for Gameshow Göring’s Thanksgiving conniption.
And of course, the Georgia Senate runoffs are still ground zero for Death Stage Trumpism’s malignant mutation, with the Manchurian Manchild’s fascist shitfit hampering the state GOP’s GOTV efforts, because why pry yourself away from the soothing ragedrone of the All-New, All-Batshit Newsmax/OANN media bubble long to cast a vote in an election that’s already been rigged by Dead Hugo Chavez’s Deep State Cabal and Jug Band?
We’ve got a bunch of stories about Republicans in Georgia to get through tonight, and it’s basically A Child’s Treasury of Folks Who’ve Refused to Learn the Lessons of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein Even Though It’s Readily Commercially Available For Real There Are Even Several Movies.
Take for example, Ronna Can-I-Be-a-Romney-Again-Now-That-We’re-Fired McDaniel, frantically attempting to herd the hallucinating horde back towards the real world and the election that’s about to take place there, even as they petulantly demand a fresh pitcher of griffin piss to gargle. You’re not in control here, Ronna. You never were.
It must be said, even after a particularly nasty primary, no one can accuse Twitching Hatemarmot Doug Collins of being a poor team player, though in fairness, he seems delighted simply to have a platform to smear Martin Luther King Jr.’s church as “the bed of Hell.”
Of course, any party member refusing to screech as enthusiastically as Collins during the Two Minutes Hate is likely to become the next target of it. Just ask Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, who has received numerous death threats, with bonus threats of sexual violence targeting his wife, from this profoundly “Christian” movement, simply for doing his job and upholding the law.
Or ask Brian Kemp, who went to all the trouble of stealing the state’s governorship on behalf of his party, only to be brutally excommunicated for refusing to reach beyond the powers of his office to make the results of the election magically vanish like a mistress’ pregnancy.
Shit, by the end of the day, you had Republican Georgia election officials begging the President of the United States to stop inciting violence against them and their families. Devotees of the Frankenstein genre will note that the monster is generally disinclined, at this stage of his rampage, to heed either reason or calls for mercy.
Meanwhile, the more we learn about David Perdue and Kelly Loeffler, the more they look like such broad caricatures of the “corrupt politician” that they’d come off campy in Doris freakin’ Day movie, and it’s frankly sorta nuts that either one would get a single vote.
Joe diGenova, the attorney for the Turdmaggot Campaign who handles the tasks that don’t involve self-immolating in front of dildo shops, casually suggested the only just reward for Christopher Krebs’ treacherous adherence to objective reality is, naturally, a grisly, Inquisition-style public execution. While I understand kakistocracy is the hip new craze sweeping through MAGA nation quicker than Diet Cherry Meth, may I suggest we resist normalizing the political violence fantasies of the shittiest among us?
Speaking of the shittiest among us, boy, Scotty Atlas really jumped ahead in the rankings for this year’s White Privilege Cup, didn’t he? After a brief but gruesomely “successful” tenure as Fat Q*bert’s herd immunity whisperer, he now departs the Shart House for greener pastures, empty head held high over a body count that’s the envy of every hostile force that ever took up arms against the United States. Dude’s career going forward should be just two quick steps: from here to the catapult and from the catapult straight into the fucking sun.
I see the Hairplug That Ate Decency somehow squeezed another $170 million out of the Legion of Dumb, just since the election, because while he’s catastrophically awful at things like managing economies and responding to pandemics, he’s Michelangelo wrapped in Michael Jordan when it comes to monetizing the resentment of the white and subpar.
And now even Bilious Bill Barr admits he lacks the power to redact reality enough to grant his Turd Emperor a second term. You don’t need me to tell you that it took all of nine minutes for the mob to turn, in full fury, on Barr, far and away Trump’s most dangerously effective servant before today, and seriously, any of y’all could’ve picked up a paperback copy of Frankenstein for like, five bucks, any time you wanted to.
Couldn’t give us one goddamn weekend for turkey and football, even in defeat, couldja, ya unbelievable fucks? I see while I was writing tonight, Pardonamania ran truly wild, and I’ll get to that next time; for now, I need to visit the fridge for a round of leftover holiday beer. Stay safe out there, friends.
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