TheFerret
TheFerret's JournalKamala Harris Provides Welcome Relief From an Otherwise Butthole-Heavy News Cycle (Ferret/Shower Cap
You’ve probably noticed that I always start this blog with a little paragraph that goes, “golly, things sure are nutty,” but for real, It’s come to organized looting and surprise tornadoes up by me, so if I’m a little late posting this week, know that I’m probably frog-and-locust-proofing my place, just in case.
(This is the part where I post a link to my website, where you can get this post with links: http://showercapblog.com/kamala-harris-provides-welcome-relief-from-an-otherwise-butthole-heavy-news-cycle/)
Because the Shart of the Deal is worse at deal-making than anything else (impressive when you recall he’s failed at everything from casinos to putting on pants), stimulus talks with congressional Democrats collapsed, and so he tried to plug a few of the thousands of new leaks springing in our already-battered economy with Hubba Bubba and a handful of probably illegal and certainly ineffective executive orders.
And since President Crotchrot is a blundering, gaslighting sack of Adderall and malice, we had to spend a few days sussing out the difference between what he said he did, what he thinks he did, and what he actually did. He claims, and likely believes, he saved the economy with a stroke of his no-doubt-custom-made-so-as-not-to-overtax-his-wee-baby-hands pen. What he actually did was unilaterally slash unemployment benefits for millions of worried, suffering Americans, and assault Social Security by deferring, and promising to completely eliminate, the payroll taxes that fund it. Mr. President, please quit helping so hard.
Anyway, a depressingly large chunk of the news these days is of the Still Batshit After All These Months variety, because pounding nails into solid stone with your forehead is the new American way, apparently. For example: there is still no national testing/tracing program, and therefore there is still zero chance of getting the coronavirus outbreak under control. Everything’s still bottlenecked at that one roadblock. Yes, still. No, it doesn’t make any sense. This is Hell, are you new?
Yes, Republicans are still quite insistent that schools reopen, though they are curiously less interested in creating the conditions that would make reopening safe. “97,000 kids caught COVID-19 in just two weeks? Well, nothing’s risk-free in life!” they offer, sort of a jaunty way to demand parents risk their children’s lives to maintain the flimsy papier-mâché facade of normalcy the GOP frantically hopes will hold up ‘till November, so they can...hold onto power and keep gettin’ kids killed, I guess.
Meanwhile, Brian Kemp’s First Theory of Coronavirus Spread in Schools fell apart almost immediately, though conservative scientists* had initially been optimistic that a policy of suspending students for documenting unsafe conditions would trick covid into looking elsewhere. Anyway, just like at every single preceding point during the motherfucking pandemic, the virus did indeed spread in the environment where experts told us, in advance, from experience, it was likely to spread, just fuckin’ FANCY THAT.
Betsy DeVos would surely be out there herding kids into pens like John Wayne in a cattle drive film, were she not cowering safely in her mansion. You’ll notice our plutocrat overlords only chuckle condescendingly when we ask them to share in the risks they demand of us; ain’t nobody pushing Barron Trump into a cramped classroom packed with adorable little germ factories, as you may’ve noticed.
And naturally, the Marmalade Shartcannon keeps on illegally using his office to campaign. Whensoever the whim strikes him, he summons the White House press corps to test out his latest desperate attack on Smilin’ Joe Biden. I’d be angrier about the lawlessness if this tactic didn’t reliably blow up in his little butthole face every single goddamn time, whether he winds up scampering away in terror when a female reporter fact-checks him, over an Obama accomplishment he’s been taking credit for for years, or earning himself a fresh new round of cognitive testing by rambling about WWII ending in 1918. We’re getting a steady supply of, “Hey, everybody should drink bleach!” clips for our ads, is all I’m saying.
And after botching two separate Republican National Conventions, Weehands McNodick wants to give his nomination speech at Gettysburg? Fuckin’ proceed, bro! It’s not like you’ll look about half an inch tall in Lincoln’s shadow or anything. Be sure to double-check the dimensions on that Stonehenge replica before you send it to the shop, though!
Gettysburg. Lord. Between this and the unseemly begging to be added to Mount Rushmore, it’s like he’s trying to rub his withered, syphilitic genitals on as many national symbols as possible on the way out...the Liberty Bell is under guard, right?
And Tangerine Idi Amin is still furiously clawing the U.S. Postal Service to shreds, because if he has to interfere with the delivery of life-saving medicines to rural areas in order to deprive Americans of their right to peacefully remove him from power over his catastrophic failings, well, I think we’ve established by now that stupid cuck shit like “the senseless, preventable suffering and death of thousands” will not be a factor in any presidential decisions until next January at the earliest.
Bilious Bill Barr got a tattoo on his ass that reads “Accuse the other side of that which you are guilty,” above a drawing of a MAGA hat-wearing mob tossing the Constitution onto a roaring bonfire, which he’s enjoyed showing off in a series of media appearances smearing the Black Lives Matter movement and the left generally with a meaningless hodgepodge of tired buzzwords designed to spark fear in the white and weak-minded. You just know Billy scribbled his bucket list on the back cover of the hardback copy of Mein Kampf he got from his shitsack boss last Xmas, don’tcha?
And you know Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot is watching the news from Belarus with lust and burning envy; this is the shit he had in mind when he ordered his patchwork Gestapo onto the streets of Washington, D.C. and Portland, but all he got was universal backlash and a couple of temporarily-disappeared protesters. But if you’re looking for a preview of the 2022 midterms under Trump...
The very same Republican Party that for weeks stayed passively perched atop their own thumbs as COVID-19 killed tens of thousands suddenly discovered their capacity for outrage when college football conferences started making the inevitable decisions to cancel their seasons. “NO! MAKE UNPAID GLADIATOR KIDS FIGHT IN THE PLAGUE PIT FOR ME!” screeched Gym Jordan and a bunch of other raging, spittle-flecked, white dudes, honestly, I can’t tell any of them apart anymore.
And I don’t know whether to be angry at the deeply warped priorities, or flabbergasted at the apparent inability to extrapolate. Like, how did this catch you off guard? It never occurred to a single rational human that college football could be played under these circumstances. If you wanted your precious television program, you had every opportunity to join the rest of us in all that mask-wearing, social-distancing, and sheltering-in-place we were up to while y’all were busy spreading disease in the name of freedumb. Maybe if you get your shit together and stop being fuckheads, we can have nice things again next year. It’s up to you.
Good news, I found a GOP House candidate who isn’t a drooling QAnon follower, though it must be said Madison Cawthorn, the Republican running in North Carolina’s 11th congressional district, recently went on a fashionable vacation to...excuse me, that should read, “went on a FASHY vacation” to fucking HITLER’S SUMMER HOUSE, posting pics on social media documenting his childlike delight at finding himself walking in the führer’s footsteps. It must please Steve King, as he rides off into his own personal Nazi loser sunset, knowing there’s a fresh generation of white nationalist Republicans waiting to replace him.
Ben Shapiro has been called the greatest conservative mind of his generation, but it seems there are some, um, shall we say “gaps” in his expertise. While throwing a puritanical tantrum over the lyrics to Cardi B’s WAP, Benjy casually let it slip that his doctor wife told him, “Wet pussy? Oh my, that only happens when something is very, very wrong medically,” and the minute I stop laughing about this, you’ll know I have died.
And hey, it’s finally official: California Senator Kamala Harris is the next Vice President of the United States of America! Mike Pants has already requested the VP debate moderators provide him with a pillow to cry into during commercial breaks, in addition to investing in padding to render the knocking of his knees inaudible to the home audience.
Oh man, I haven’t been able to post two such delightful stories back-to-back since I launched this silly ol’ blog! Shit, I better check out and run away before I get a push notification announcing a draft for the coming war with NATO. Stay safe out there, friends!
*There’s no such thing, made ya look.
We Have Always been at War With Thighland; Joe Biden Has Always Been at War With God (Ferret/SC)
I’ve started sleeping with my head in the dryer, in an effort to keep the sensation of following the news going 24/7. Honestly, it didn’t do the trick at first, but then I added some bricks and an opossum from the dumpster out back to the dryer, and I have to say, the effect is stunningly similar.
(Get this post, in living color, with nifty nooz links, here: http://showercapblog.com/we-have-always-been-at-war-with-thighland-joe-biden-has-always-been-at-war-with-god/)
So, I guess we’ve got to talk about Kanye, which I have attempted to avoid. Like, the whole point of this lil’ blog of mine is to write mean shit about the rat bastards who’re fucking up the world; to be frank, all I have here is a hammer, and yes, everything sure does look an awful lot like a nail as a result.
But I’ve got way too many mental health issues in my own origin story to mock a guy who’s clearly in a lot of pain, and whose problems are only being exacerbated by the global spotlight. But it must be said, desperate Shartworld operatives are now conniving to get West on the ballot in juuuuuust enough states to siphon off juuuuust enough votes to plunge the country into four more years of white supremacy, concentration camps, and plague, and those folks? The bottom-feeding bureaucrats trying to force our democracy through loophole after loophole until it’s warped beyond recognition? Those folks get the hammer.
Donald Trump is a man of many fears...empty stadiums...the public revelation of his actual net worth...stairs...but nothing streaks his spray-on tan with more terrorsweat than the grinning visage of Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr. See, from Wee Don’s point of view, our Joe is the relentless movie monster, steadily advancing in the rear view mirror no matter how fast you drive or what you throw at him; a folksy inevitability, lumbering forward, ever forward, taking aim with steely, inhuman focus at the one thing you value: the legal immunity granted by your office! (Thunder, lightning, ominous music)
And he’s literally LAUGHING IN YOUR FACE as you hit him with your campaign’s best remaining shot, and, okay, admittedly, that shot is, “The Vice President is afraid to take a cognitive test! YES, the one our guy bragged about, with the drawings of horsies and hippos! Biden’s too scared to...he’s...c’mon, man, this gig sucks, I’m just trying to not get fired, okay?”
Anyway, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops is so scurred of the Boogeyjoe that he won’t come out of the residence, so his campaign cleverly doctored a bunch of images to make Biden look like as big a Bunker Bitch as the Dotard himself. Since they can’t lay a finger on Real Joe, they’ll just invent an alternate Joe, the Biden of Earth-2, who does not tend to his toenails in a hygienic manner, and lives in Bernie Sanders’ closet as his personal gimp. Expect these techniques to accelerate as the clock runs out; in six weeks you’ll be explaining to folks back home that sorry, the auxiliary nipples you saw on Joe's forehead in that Trump ad are, alas, fake news.
Another proposal to un-sink the Shartanic is, I kid you not, adding even more bigotry to a stew that’s already 95% David Duke’s spittle. It’s amazing anybody imagines the problem here is “we’re not scaremongering hard enough about transgender athletes,” but hey, money certainly flows freely in the right-wing griftosphere.
In the latest postmodern Frankenstein update, Twitter and Facebook attempted to rein in the monster of their making, taking down one of Hairplug Himmler’s posts for coronavirus disinformation, with Twitter even blocking his campaign’s account until the lie was completely removed.
By the way, the lie that sparked this social media spanking was that children are “almost immune from this disease,” the disease being COVID-19, you may have seen something about it on the news. A rather significant lie, really. Less of a blaming-a-fart-on-the-dog sort of fib, and more along the lines of an Oh, You’re Trying to Trick People Into Endangering Their Kids’ Lives, Why the Fuck Would You Do That kind of thing.
My point is, all the disingenuous tantrum-throwing about ”free speech” here is in service to protecting Gameshow Göring’s first amendment right to tell child-killing lies. Like, why would you even go looking for that hill, let alone die on it?
Republicans on the Senate Judiciary Committee paid the penalty for their erroneous belief that former Acting Attorney General Sally Yates is someone to fuck with. I confess I don’t understand why the GOP imagines their bullshit talking points will stand up in the harsh light of objective reality, but that certainly explains their coronavirus response, doesn’t it?
Life under the Turd Reich was a fuckin’ grind before the goddamn pandemic, but these last few weeks have been like one long doomscrolling thumb death march, and every fleeting bit of good news has brought SUCH SWEET RELIEF, right? It’s been like crawling through a David-Lean-in-IMAX desert, and this fuckin’ NRA story is like reaching the top of that last dune, a split second before you drop dead, and finding an oasis with a water park and a strip club. Oh, New York Attorney General Letitia James is suing to dissolve the National Rifle Association, you say? I mean, I suppose I’d rather see those death merchants destroyed over the oceans of blood on their hands, but if we can get ‘em on corruption, hey, Al Capone still died in prison.
A recent survey conducted by People Magazine discovered that the six sexiest words in the English language are “Deutsche Bank complied with the subpoena,” following news that the world’s most glamorous money launderers have merrily turned Fat Q*bert’s records over to prosecutors in New York. See, unlike congressional Republicans, DB understands Littlefinger deserves no loyalty, for he will give you none in return. Ask Jeff Sessions about that one sometime.
Fuck, between the NRA thing and the Deutsche Bank thing, I say this calls for a celebration, why don’t you swing by with some brews, and we can OH RIGHT that might be fatal, I forgot about the crushing reality of life during a pandemic for a minute. But you can’t, you literally can’t escape it, which is why all these flailing attempts to get people angry at Joe Biden for skipping Lyin’ Eyes when he drives with the Eagles’ Greatest Hits CD on or whatever bullshit they’re trying this week is doomed to failure; it’s a coronavirus election, Dotard, and if you didn’t want a coronavirus election, you should’ve done something about the FUCKING coronavirus when you had the chance.
Ok, Resisters, we need to have a serious talk. Loose lips sink ships, y’know? Everything was going precisely according to the long-term deep state antifa Jade Helm plan; Joe Biden would take the oath of office, and at the end of his inaugural speech he’d start chuckling to himself and say, “I can’t believe you fools fell for that ‘restore the soul of the nation’ shit! I’ve come here to DESTROY GOD!” and then he’d whip out the Infinity Gauntlet and erase Real ‘Murica with one snap of his cognitive-test-fearing fingers.
But NO, somebody leaked the whole scheme to Government Cheese Goebbels, and he blabbed it all over television the other day, so now God’s totally gonna see Joe coming. You guys, at this rate, we’re NEVER gonna take God out, and if that’s the case, what’s the whole Soros-funded white genocide jihad been for, huh?
A forthcoming book informs us the Manchurian Manchild’s military advisors would deliberately withhold military options from him lest his malfunctioning walnut brain plunge the planet into World War Dumbass and while there are certainly valid questions to ask regarding the constitutionality of the Pentagon treating the president like an unusually stupid toddler, THANK GOD the Pentagon is treating the president like an unusually stupid toddler.
Jerry Falwell Jr. is on an “indefinite leave of absence” from Liberty University following some extra-marital naughtiness he chose to share on Instagram, and I think it’s useful to view these extremely common stories not as the hypocrisies of Christian leaders who fail to live up to their own loudly-professed beliefs, but rather as the entirely ethically consistent acts of the high priests of a white supremacist hate cult masquerading as a legitimate religion. Y’see? It all kinda tumbles into place.
Call forth the Keeper of the Scroll of Words the President of the United States Does Not Know How to Pronounce; yes, I know we just called him forth the other day for the Yosemite thing but he knew what he was getting into when he took this job, which we remind him he is lucky to have in this economy. What ho, Keeper! We do hereby call upon thee to inscribe upon thy scroll, in thy fanciest calligraphy, the word “Thailand,” for he did say “Thighland,” no seriously he totally did, there’s video and everything.
I see Putin’s starting to get anxious, since the party’s breaking up and Dad’s due home any minute now, so he’s fucking around in our elections again. Vlad, I hope that case of PBR was worth it, cuz until your troll farms figure out how to make memes that cure COVID-19, this election is pretty much meddle-proof. We don’t care if Hunter Biden killed Jeffrey Epstein with Vince Foster’s femur, we just want to leave our fucking homes.
Talks over the next coronavirus stimulus bill broke down, because Republicans feared the Democrats’ proposal would alleviate too much human suffering. I guess we have to do that thing now where the markets finally realize, “oh right, these idiots really are that maliciously insane” and wipe out a few billion dollars worth of wealth before we do the thing everybody already understands needs to be done. Shitty, self-indulgent, predictable theatre, only instead of applause, the audience dies destitute.
Well, that’s enough to carry us into our “weekend,” I think. If anybody has any spare time to work up a plan to destroy God...I mean, we need a new one now, soooooo...
PS, I guess while I was writing this post, I missed another creepy little press conference/Klan rally where Strawberry Shartcake said he’d do Obamacare by executive order. You see why I drink.
Endless, Inescapable American Carnage: It Is What It Is. (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Welp, pretty normal day, honestly. Of course, lately “normal” means “a complete and total failure of government has left the United States utterly paralyzed before a pandemic much of the rest of the world has contained, also there’s a debate about whether or not to get a bunch of children killed,” so y’know...context is everything, really.
(Wanna read this post with all those nifty news links you know and love? Click here: http://showercapblog.com/endless-inescapable-american-carnage-it-is-what-it-is/)
In an attempt to address his relative weakness with younger voters, Smilin’ Joe Biden hacked Lil’ Donnie-Two Scoops’ Twitter account and threatened to ban TikTok, a move sure to increase youth turnout this Novem-wait, what? He actually said it himself? Out loud? That Trump boy doesn’t have a lick of sense.
So, word on the street is, the Republican National Convention might be closed to the press, leaving America to wonder whether this is another example of the GOP’s slide into speech-crushing fascism, or just a handful of event planners trying to keep the Herman Cain count down this time. I say, why’s it gotta be “or?”
Tantalizing new filings out of the Manhattan district attorney’s office suggest a certain Grand Wizard Grifter is under investigation for even biglier crimes than we initially thought, including bank and insurance fraud, and if somebody could get Nate Silver to work up a model projecting the odds that my dearest wish is someday granted, meaning America actually gets to watch this sphincter-mouthed Nazi pig die in prison, I’d be eternally grateful. Ok, I’d be grateful for a day or two, but you’d probably get a six-pack out of it, anyway.
You could be forgiven for losing track of precisely which sorts of mail-in voting are dastardly antifa assaults on our very way of life and which are the pride and joy of every patriotic ‘Murican. One minute Strawberry Shartcake balls up his tiny, inadequate fists and whines about the new Nevada law which will automatically send a mail-in ballot to every voter, the next he’s begging his dwindling base of Florida Men to pretty please vote by mail, because what’s bad in Nevada is awesome in Florida for Reasons Which Definitely Exist. This apparent hypocrisy bothers the president nearly as much as the coronavirus death toll, which is to say not at all.
Merritt Corrigan is confused. The whole reason she was invited to join the Turdmaggot Administration in the first place, despite her glaring lack of qualifications, is that it’s a white supremacist hate cult, full of mediocre bigots like herself, and now she’s been fired for hate speech? “Consistency is all I ask!” Corrigan bellowed, just kidding she tweeted a whole bunch of profoundly heinous shit and, of course, proclaimed herself The Real Victim. Bye, Merritt!
Hey, speaking of Th’Best People, President Crotchrot’s attempt to get some drooling loon called Anthony Tata confirmed to an important Pentagon gig fell apart when Tata’s penchant for tinfoil-hat deep state conspiracy theories and virulent Islamophobia got outed in the media. Unfortunately, because we’re in After Three Years in Office the One Thing I’ve Learned is How Slowly the Fucking Courts Work mode now, Shartboy deployed a little bureaucratic razzle-dazzle to bypass Senate confirmation and give the skeevy creep essentially the same job. The lame-duck days will just be crime for crime’s sake, running naked through the halls of the Smithsonian, defacing national treasures with ketchup and spray paint, feverishly screeching, “Made it Ma! Top of the world!” until he’s tackled by security.
Hey, have you filled out the census yet? I mention this because Team Treasonweasel suddenly decided to cut the Census Bureau’s field operations off a month earlier than planned, probably to give Stephen Miller more time to personally burn forms from urban zip codes. Seriously though, these evil fucks are doing their damndest to leave a big fat white supremacist stain in the fabric of American governance, one we won’t get a chance to wash out for ten long years. Don’t let ‘em get away with it. Fill out your dang census!
Look, if the ever-growing corpse mountain isn’t enough to convince you that a second Trump term is the worst idea since George Lazenby drinking New Coke, maybe you need to get strapped into a chair and forced, Clockwork Orange-style, to watch Tangerine Idi Amin’s new interview with Axios’ Jonathan Swan until you scream, “Holy fuck, this visibly deteriorating wad of tanning lotion and resentment isn’t fit to serve as a Walmart greeter MY GOD WHAT HAVE WE DONE?”
Yes, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot continues to express more empathy for a child sex trafficker than for the 160,000 killed by COVID-19, or their families, or any of the millions of Americans forced into unemployment by his murderous negligence. If you were to play video of his o-so-principled stand for Ghislaine Maxwell’s presumption of innocence alongside his “shit happens, I’m great” assessment of his coronavirus response at the Lincoln memorial, Honest Abe would double over and start puking blood-red marble.
The exchange on John Lewis exposed Gameshow Göring’s brokenness with a dramatist’s precision; how deeply, hopelessly warped do you have to be to distill that great life down to “he didn’t come to my inauguration?” I think we can lay to rest all those earnest arguments on the ethics of armchair psychiatric diagnosis, at least in this one extreme and extremely well-documented case; yes, the man is a narcissist, shit, I once found the myth of Narcissus implausibly allegorical, but now it hits me like kitchen-sink Arthur Miller realism.
Ugh. I guess we should talk about the bit with the charts. All the bad news is fake news, insisted the Marmalade Shartcannon, I assure you I’m one nasty nickname* away from taming the pandemic once and for all, and here are some carefully-tortured metrics I’d really like you trust over your own lying eyes. Like, how defective is the brain that believes a couple of Crayola-colored graphs will send the American people skipping back into restaurants and arenas, smiling from ear to ear as we take deep, joyous breaths, filling our lungs with the coronavirus which is Totally Under Control Trust Me? It’s like watching a child squinting his eyes super tight to prove he’s really asleep, only it’s less about staying up ten more minutes playing with your phone than getting human beings killed by the tens of thousands.
And yeah, the Dopey Dotard With Diminutive Digits can’t pronounce “Yosemite,” lacking familiarity, it seems, with both the national park and the cantankerous Bugs Bunny antagonist. This is a small story, yes, but the President of the United States should be able to pronounce “Yosemite.” The president should know, at the very least, the basic facts about the country that’re taught to every schoolchild (remotely, at least for now) and the president should like those things.
THE PRESIDENT SHOULD LIKE AMERICA! That’s what I’m reduced to screaming, alone in my apartment, as Election Day approaches. Strange days, Resisters...strange days.
Anyway, it’s President Obama’s birthday, and I hope he gets to celebrate his next one at Joe Biden’s new place, assuming they can ever get the smell of experimental hair tonic and overdone steak farts outta the joint.
Ok, that’s enough for now, I suppose. Guess I’ll get back to my mega-awesome life, trapped on my couch, waiting for either a vaccine or the peaceful transfer of power, whichever comes first. Wheeeeeeeeee.
*Crooked Covid? Nasty Nineteen? C’MON PEOPLE, THIS IS IMPORTANT!
The One Where We Learned Jared Kushner Was Cool With COVID-19 Killing People in Blue States (Ferret)
Trying times, friends. I don’t know about y’all, but I’m right on the brink of discovering precisely how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of my fragile sanity. Ah yes, I believe I feel the beak of the owl crushing down on my skull even now...let’s get the news in before I shatter.
(And yes, you can find this post, with all those nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/the-one-where-we-learned-jared-kushner-was-cool-with-covid-19-killing-people-in-blue-states/)
In open defiance of a recent Supreme Court ruling, the Checks Are For Cucks and So Are Balances Administration has been rejecting new DACA applicants, because we’re just not going to have the rule of law between now and the election. Personally, I wouldn’t be doing donuts on John Roberts’ lawn if I knew I’d be begging him to throw out an election and keep me in power in just a few short months, but expecting long-term thinking from these clowns seems unfair at this point.
Because he is such a good little servant, Donnie Two-Scoops pulled out his crayon-scrawled register of PEEPUL TO GET BACK AT WHILE ME AM STILL PREZIDUNT, and compared it to Uncle Vlad’s Xmas list, in order to set priorities for his dwindling term. “Sticking it to that haughty Angela Merkel woman” was a point of mutual agreement, and so the U.S. is withdrawing 12,000 troops from Germany, wasting billions of taxpayer dollars in the process. Putin has reportedly gone into hiding, because he believes being photographed while tap-dancing with glee would undermine his carefully-crafted strongman image.
In his doomed quest to win back college-educated white women, Tangerine Idi Amin has commandeered an ice cream truck, and embarked, drenched in sweat that reeks of tanning lotions and cheeseburger grease, on a whirlwind tour of suburbia, shrieking about Joe Biden’s evil plot to abolish apple pie and friendly father/son games of catch, panicking more and more as he learns these people aren’t nearly as frightened and hateful as he desperately needs them to be. Yeah, Brad Parscale was the problem alright.
Everybody’s giving Government Cheese Goebbels grief because he’s too chickenshit to tell Putin, “Hey, it would be really cool if you could maybe stop putting bounties on American soldiers’ heads,” but to be fair, it’s extra tough to stand up to your boss in this job market. Also, as a practical matter, there probably just isn’t time after all the sniveling and groveling. ”C’mon Vlad, you promised, I took the troops outta Germany like you wanted, please gimmie some dirt on Joe Biden, I can’t make anything stick, Vlad, PLEASE, we both know I can’t handle prison!” And then Meadows bursts in with a stack of shit to sign. You know how it is.
Going local for a minute, some shitty white kid called Will Dismukes resigned his post as pastor of a Baptist church, though not his seat in the Alabama state legislature, when he got caught attending a birthday party for dead Confederate/KKK loser Nathan Bedford Forrest. Y’know, back when I was a theatre major in college, there’d occasionally be some pretentious douche who wanted to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday, or Marlon Brando’s, or John Cazale’s if he was particularly tedious; this is the white supremacist version of that. These are dork klansmen, throwing the lamest theme parties on God’s green earth.
My least favorite trope in this nightmare reality show is probably the inevitable shitgeyser that erupts every time Littlefinger delegates anything important to his idiot son-in-law. Kid Nepotism’s latest game of Fantasy Chief of Staff has of course come at the expense of the nation’s coronavirus response, and if anyone has any as-yet-unpopped forehead veins they’re looking to preserve, I suggest you look away now, because it turns out one big reason the United States failed so spectacularly and disastrously in the early days of the pandemic was Jar-Jar's sociopathically misguided belief that the only really dangerous outbreak zones were in blue states, so it would be good for his team politically to just LET THE VIRUS KILL PEOPLE, and then blame Democratic governors in the aftermath.
Now, that’s not only evil, but epically fucking stupid, VIRUSES CAN’T READ MAPS, JARED. Fuck, even the Paul Reiser character in Aliens would call Kushner a cretinous little nitwit, everyone can see it, everyone...except the President of the United States.
So that one pizza guy, the one who doesn’t understand economics and sexually harassed a bunch of women...Herman Cain. He’s dead now, because he caught Covid at that one place everybody told him he was gonna catch Covid, and it killed him, because that’s what Covid does. I’m sure you have a few pearl-clutchers in your feed insisting that we must treat Herman’s self-inflicted demise with great somberness and respect. Fuck that.
What Herman Cain chose to do with the end of his life was vile. He engaged in a deliberate effort to trick people into extremely unsafe, indeed possibly lethal behaviors. He told his followers that what he was doing, namely gathering indoors in the middle of a city experiencing a heavy coronavirus outbreak, without masks or social distancing, was safe. No doubt many of those followers trusted Herman, and some of them are sick or even dead right now. For those people, I feel sympathy and sorrow. For Herman Cain, well, he was trying very, very hard to hurt people, and now he can’t hurt anyone anymore. My mourning card has been booked up for months, sorry.
And now the Dumbest Man in Congress, Louie Gohmert, has tested positive as well, in spite of his extremely impressive public stance against mask-wearing. I confess I’m confused here; surely the virus finds such manly defiance intimidating; we all know there is no basic law of science that isn’t subject to immediate suspension when faced with a sufficiently masculine doubter, proclaiming “nuh-UH” with a puffed-out chest. That’s just how the universe works...in the Freedumb Caucus, anyway.
Of course, Louie is SO dumb that his existence isn’t defined by the mere absence of intelligence, but the often-violent projection of anti-intelligence, and thus, he can’t just admit, “I was wrong, folks, this virus is REAL, and it is DANGEROUS,” no, he has to bellow, “IT WUZ THE MASK WUT DONE IT” as he’s dragged off to quarantine. If there are no supply chain issues, I’d like to order a round of cognitive tests for Texas’ entire first district, please.
Panicked as his electoral prospects wither like his own dusty scrotum, Sharty McFly is pretty much just flipping through famous dictators’ biographies looking for ideas at this point, and so this week he finally floated the notion of delaying the election, as we always knew he would. The optimism boggles the mind, as though a few more months spent percolating in the lake of raw sewage he dropped on our heads would win converts as we grow accustomed to the smell.
I suppose he still believes the problem will mystically resolve on its own, that his ghostly father will one day appear before the coronavirus’ accountant, and with his astral checkbook offer a sum so large the disease will simply retire to the French Riviera. Guess he’s just afraid Daddy’s gonna wait until mid-November, one last I Never You Loved You before dragging him away to the Great Military School in the Sky.
Like most of his endeavors, Weehands McNodick’s pathetic attempt to redirect the media’s attention just as Barack Obama began his eulogy at John Lewis’ funeral failed spectacularly, and the world watched the former President’s speech, overflowing with grace and righteousness, with the sort of nostalgic longing seldom found outside Kenny Chesney lyrics. You realize, old man, Obama has barely begun to tear you apart on the virtual campaign trail, right?
Well, looka here, the Department of Homeland Security has been compiling little intelligence reports on American journalists covering the shenanigans in Portland. Considering DHS’ I Can Haz Secret Police? actions there, I can certainly understand their fervor to keep the homeland safe...from journalism; obviously it’s much easier to disseminate propaganda when there are no inconvenient videos of your own stormtrooper bullshit, but to bastardize a phrase, who secures the homeland from Homeland Security?*
Going one giant, dark step further, the Department of Justice is asking the courts to lift an order protecting journalists on the ground in Portland, alleging that there are just oodles and oodles of antifa super-soldiers out there pretending to be journalists, blah blah blah the point here is that the Van Disappearance Squad is asking for legal permission to start bashing reporters’ heads, and y’know, I don’t think we should give it to them.
Oh, and now hurricane season is bearing down on our Covid-ravaged shores? Luckily we’re experiencing a historic leadership surplus, so dealing with any storm damage’ll be easy-peezy, we’ll just have Ron DeSantis declare victory a few days before landfall, and move on with our lives; it’s a time-tested 2020 tactic.
And of course, President Crotchrot is still using all his tiny-fisted might to choke the life out of the coronavirus once and for all only not the coronavirus but rather the Post Office. Wow, the authoritarianism plotline and the pandemic plotline keep mingling in ways that would be really fun and interesting anyplace other than real life, don’tcha think?
Fuck. It’s no fuckin’ fun out there, is it, Resisters? But we’re in the home stretch now, we can tough this shit out, right? I think it was Aristotle who said, “The last 96 days of a game show host autocrat’s reign are always the toughest, but the beer will never taste better than it does on that 96th day.” So hang in there.
*I’m worried I didn’t say “homeland” enough in this paragraph.
Welp, Guess We're Talking About Demon Spooj Today. (Ferret/Shower Cap)
I really don’t understand how we got here, friends. I think one overlooked possibility is that somebody found a magic lamp and wanted to see what it would look like if Gordon Gekko sold Wonderland to the shittiest people he knew. I’m certainly open to other theories, particularly any that imply I will magically wake up somewhere else someday. Until such time, let's do the news...
(Yup yup, this post, WITH nifty news links, can be found here: http://showercapblog.com/welp-guess-were-talking-about-demon-spooj-today/)
So, the Fox is for Cucks I’ll Show You REAL Right-Wing Disinformation loons at Sinclair Broadcasting were all set to air a segment featuring some disgraced Plandemic nutjob accusing Dr. Anthony Fauci of creating the coronavirus, presumably as part of some slow-burn revenge scheme for all the death threats his family has been getting over his role in the response to the outbreak, yeah he’s also a time-traveler in this scenario, I mean, why the fuck not ANYWAY the skeevy little weirdos were actually shamed into pulling the fucking thing for once.
Look, I am always thrilled when the insanity of the Turd Reich bumps up against boundaries of any kind. So “nation’s leading epidemiologist actually caused global pandemic” is a bridge too far? I mean, okay. I would’ve stopped a couple of bridges ago, but I’m legit comforted to learn that there is still a bridge, however distant from decency and reality, worthy of being deemed “too far.” Little victories, y’know?
I see some enterprising young terrorist burned down the Arizona Democratic Party’s headquarters, though I seem to have missed Hairplug Himmler’s tweet condemning this vile property destruction perpetrated, no doubt, by anti-American hooligans who must now be tear-gassed and beaten by heavily-armed agents of the state. Tell you what, little firebug, you can have the office, we’ll take the take the U.S. Senate seat, and the electoral votes. Shit, I’ll even throw in 1,045 hours of America Online for free.
And today in Right Wing Slap Fights, the Reagan Foundation says the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus is no longer invited to join in any of Ronnie’s reindeer games. When two delusional Cults of Personality clash like this, what can one do but point and laugh? “You will not sully our racist senile assclown’s good name by associating it with YOUR racist senile assclown, how dare you,” they growl, through trembling jowls. It’s all very silly.
The Pulitzers will be adding a new category next year, celebrating excellence in field of journalism on How Ron DeSantis Turned Florida Into a Thriving Tourist Destination...for the Coronavirus. WaPo is out to an early lead, but there’s a great deal of work being done in the genre, probably because Ron-Ron is doing such a crackerjack job stimulating his state’s suddenly-booming funeral home industry. Every photograph of DeSantis these days seems to capture a man who doesn’t quite understand why nobody is breaking down his door to arrest him for his crimes, have you noticed that?
Jeez, Tom Cotton wants to be the next Trump soooooo badly. He’s continuing his Look Ma, I’m a Racist Autocrat media tour, talking about the necessary awesomeness of slavery, hoping Cult45 will be so enthralled by his devotion to white nationalism, they won’t notice his Gregory-Peck-on-Valium charisma. Cotton is like the creepy kid at the kegger trying to lure everybody out to an after-party at his uncle’s goat farm. Tom, I know you dream of inheriting this mob, and riding their adulation to a throne crafted from the bones of your libtard foes, but you ain’t likable enough, son. If Hillary wasn’t likable, you’re actively, off-puttingly, seriously-we’re-shipwrecked-in-the-uncanny-valley-level unlikable. Looking forward to watching you fail, though.
Well, the Duchess Melania looked out upon an America trembling with worry over an unemployment crisis teetering on the brink of transforming into an eviction crisis, and said, “Fear not my children, I have picked this extremely appropriate moment in time to give the Rose Garden an expensive makeover in my own inimitable, super-classy style!” What sort of Clockwork Orange Versailles bullshit is this? Lady, if you’re not planting a tasteful vegetable garden with the intent to donate the bounty to local food banks, sit your I Really Don’t Care Do You plutocrat ass down.
Speaking of the Turd Family Robinshart, young Barron Trump’s school will not, it turns out, be reopening in the fall, because doing so would be unsafe; we are in the middle of a pandemic, you see. Your children are not to be given the same consideration of course, no, your families are to be conscripted into President Crotchrot’s re-election campaign, as extras in their Busby Berkeley spectacular, “Everything Is So Very Normal, We Promise!” and no, the campaign will not reimburse any funeral costs, not even the child coffins even though they’re smaller.
I confess I had completely forgotten just which sycophantic nitwit happens to be Shart Garfunkel’s National Security Advisor this week; I knew it wasn’t the unregistered Turkish agent or the Murderstache guy anymore, but keeping track of these disposable hacks keeps getting trickier as the bottom of the barrel gets scraped clean. Turns out it’s some dude named Robert O’Brien, who is perhaps most famous for testing positive for COVID-19 the other day.
And so once again, the virus works its way into the White House without making that one last leap the whole world is wishing for. This is worse than waiting for Tony and Angela to get together, probably because Tony didn’t get a thousand people killed every episode by being shitty at his job.
The Velveeta Vulgarian announced he will not pay his respects to John Lewis while the civil rights icon’s body lies in state, saying he’s “seen too many Indiana Jones movies to fall for that one.” Honestly, after the lightning strike on the Statue of Liberty the other day, I can’t say as I blame the treacherous shitstain.
Ok, so we all know Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot views Dr. Fauci as a rival, because the epidemiologist’s approval ratings are better than his own, and yes, that’s atomic madness all by itself, but it’s only the set-up for this next little insanity dumpling: you see, in a fit of jealous rage upon seeing Fauci was selected to throw out the first pitch of the Washington Nationals’ season, Littlefinger immediately proclaimed he’d been invited to throw out a first pitch of his own, by the New York Yankees, even though...he hadn’t. And then he remembered he’s much too big a pissbaby to risk throwing a ball with those humiliatingly diminutive digits of his, and backed out of the invitation he made up for himself, and this shit is so embarrassing at this point, I’m surprised it’s not happening to Ben Stiller in Meet the Parents.
Wooooooooooo we are in trouble, friends. This is the moment when the mad king stumbles out onstage for his soliloquy, and Shakespeare lets us see just how far gone he is, and how deeply fucked the situation in the kingdom will remain so long as his HEY NONNY NONNY WHAT A BEAUTIFUL FIRST PITCH ‘TWOULD HAVE BEEN ass sits on the throne. Act V is gonna be a doozy.
Seems Mitch McConnell finally noticed the coronavirus stimulus bill House Dems sent to his desk in May and went, “Hmmm, while I have drastically reduced unemployment for idiot right-wing ideologues by appointing them to federal judgeships, it would appear other sectors of the economy are not fairing quite so well,” and so his caucus of fascism-enabling Koch puppets finally, weeks too late, scribbled down their own version, a predictable fiscal taint punt to the millions of Americans still out of work due to their Turd Emperor’s deadly dithering.
Republicans also want to replace the funds Government Cheese Goebbels pilfered from the Pentagon’s budget to pay for his big dumb wall, effectively ceding Congress’ power of appropriations to the executive forever, and oh yeah, finance a new headquarters for the FBI that oh-so-coincidentally would block an expected competitor for Wee Don’s shitty D.C. hotel. You might not think there’s much going on behind those empty eyes, but the man is always, ALWAYS grifting.
I see Doctor Dotard is out there pimping hyrdroxychloroquine again, because he’s so warped by a lifetime of Daddy’s money bailing him out of every jam that he can’t fathom the concept of a problem that won’t simply disappear. Plan A is wait for a miracle cure to appear, Plan B is golf.
The latest snake oil spokesmoron is Stella Immanuel, whose credentials in the prestigious field of Telling Wingnuts What They Want to Hear have perhaps overshadowed her extensive record of publicly ranting about alien DNA and demon spooj. Now, we use a lot of hyperbole here at the Shower Cap Blog, so let’s take a quick moment to clarify that this is not a case of “oh, this person says such crazy things she may as well be talking about demon spooj,” but rather of, “no, she really believes endometriosis is caused by copulating with demons in your dreams,” but really, the big question here is when does Gwyneth Paltrow starts expanding her candle line?
Like a lot of Republicans, Georgia Senator David Perdue has noticed the 300-pound-sack-of-monkey-shit-with-a-golf-club-shaped electoral anchor lashed to his ankle, putting his once-safe gig as an authoritarian’s loyal doormat at risk. “How’m I gonna get out of this pickle?” Perdue asked his campaign staff. “Well, I’ll just have to run on my record. Wait, why is everyone laughing?”
“Senator, the trouble is, voters may not understand just how Jewish Jon Ossoff is. Fortunately, I have just what we need, a nose-lengthening filter with settings ranging from Dog Whistle to Cookout at Richard Spencer’s House. I’ll apply it to our campaign ads, and you’ll coast to re-election!” And to think, some say there’s a white supremacy problem in the GOP.
Bilious Bill Barr testified before the House Judiciary Committee, claiming that systemic police racism is fake, though roving antifa hordes are totally real, and y’know, maybe we should spread a few of those cognitive tests liberally around the executive branch. Bill certainly brought his Lying Pants, and also his Feigning Indignity Cufflinks. Remind me to buy something special to drink when this fascist fuck makes his final stroll out of the White House.
As of posting time, there was no word as to whether Congresswoman Pramila Jayapal intended to return AG Barr’s wee autocrat testicles to him following their confrontation during the hearing; perhaps he can arrange to rent them from her on special occasions, like his birthday.
Anyway, if anybody’s wondering how my day is going, well, I just watched the President of the United States flee the briefing room because he couldn’t handle questions about why he thought platforming the Satan’s Jizz lady was a good idea, how ‘bout you?
Aaaaand that’s just about all I can take. I’m sure my nightly howl of despair has been accepted as routine by my neighbors by now, sort of a reverse rooster crow, signifying there’s a lid on for the evening. Stay safe out there, Resisters, shit is truly, madly, deeply cray.
Person! Woman! Man! Camera! TV! Five Words to Say While They Drag You Away! (Ferret/Shower Cap)
I was gonna write “TGIF,” like the day of the week still matters at all, or the weekend brings some sort of release from the insanity that carpet-bombs our consciousness every minute of every day, but I decided against it. Fuck. It’s raining golf ball-sized batshit, Resisters, you’re gonna want to wear a hat.
(If you want the links that prove all this shit really happened, click here: http://showercapblog.com/person-woman-man-camera-tv-five-words-to-say-while-they-drag-you-away/)
Look, we’re all just trying to make the best of things here in Hell. I see the Toronto Blue Jays are relocating to Buffalo for the season, and that sounds like a nice little solution, but shouldn’t we flip through a few religious texts real quick, just to make sure there’s nothing symbolically compatible with any End Times myths here? No “when the Bird of the North settles in the Land of the Wing, a Butthole-Mouthed Rich Boy shall fuck up all Creation” kinda stuff?
Because we already know the magic words that open the Seventh Seal:
Person! Woman! Man! Camera! TV!
I have certainly never felt closer to the apocalypse than I did watching the footage of the Deteriorator in Chief regaling a Fux Nooz interviewer with the epic tale of his Most Heroic Triumphe Over the Foule and Nefarious Cognitive Test.
Person! Woman! Man! Camera! TV!
It’s a new Klaatu Barada Nikto for these deranged times, and chanting it will summon Cthulhu’s shitty, racist cousin, who crashes on your couch and wipes out all life on Earth with his Steak-umms farts.
If you say Person Woman Man Camera TV in the mirror five times, the Candyman will go on a ten-minute rant about how mask mandates violate his civil rights.
Friends, it is MADNESS that this visibly crumbling imbecile has been allowed to keep the powers of the presidency. He is a criminal, he is a sociopath, he is a brainless, broken manchild with only the most selfish and sinister motivations, and ON TOP OF ALL THAT what’s left of his Adderall-addled mind is leaking out of his goddamn nostrils and splattering on the Resolute desk like cold oatmeal. Impeachment, 25th amendment, covid...I’m not particular at this point.
Missed this one last time, but now we’ve learned Shart Garfunkel pressured our Ambassador to Britain to find some way to get the British Open awarded to his tacky-ass Scottish golf club, and I suppose we should be thankful his imagination is limited to these petty grifts, rather than Fleming-esque master plans to weaponize the full powers of his office, though given a second term, he’d surely get around to menacing European capitals with nuclear weapons in order to extract ransom.
Gaslighting is certainly challenging in this age of readily-available video receipts, and I’d almost pity Kellyanne Conway her thankless task as Minister of Disinformation, if her work wasn’t, you know, a relentless attempt to destroy the United States on both the symbolic and physical levels. Anyway, watching her try to shame governors who re-opened their states too early as though the Turd Reich hadn’t done their damndest to flog everyone out the door was...I mean, you can’t convince Paula she lost her brooch if she saw you steal it on CNN.
Speaking of Team Treasonweasel’s ongoing campaign against reality, their latest re-election strategy involves feeding the country footage of the very carnage wrought by their candidate’s never-ending string of fuckups while screaming LOOK AT WHAT JOE BIDEN WANTS! Yeah, I don’t get it either. I mean, I guess it makes about as much sense as saying your opponent has dementia while your guy keeps screaming LOOK AT ME I CAN REMEMBER FIVE WORDS, but I don’t see it playing in the Rust Belt.
Operation Legend, or “Losers Emulating the Gestapo to Enact Needed Distractions” is ramping up, on the theory that you can win an election by making people more afraid of a fake thing than a real thing. Like, just the authoritarian part of dispatching unaccountable federal officers to beat up peaceful protesters is perfectly insidious on its own; but then when you factor in the bit where it’s all ultimately a ploy to superimpose an imaginary urban crime problem over the very real coronavirus problem, I mean, that’s some genuinely evil shit, right there.
Redactor General William Barr boasted his personal private police force made 200 arrests in Kansas City alone, an impressive statistic he only inflated by a factor of 200. Let me be clear and say I would rather Bilious Bill keep on telling fish stories here than try to make reality match his lies, but again, none of this Putin’s Playhouse theatre is going to make us forget the fucking pandemic, campers, so you may as well cut it out.
I’m sure the last remains of Ted Yoho have been scraped off the bottom of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s boot like so much dog poo by now, but I don’t know what the process is here...does the governor appoint a replacement, or does the Florida 3rd just have to settle for being represented by Ted’s obliterated husk now?
While we have to wait until January to see decency restored in the White House, it seems COVID-19 can come and go as it pleases. It was a cafeteria worker that tested positive this time. It’s only the, what, third time the little bastard has gotten within coughing distance of the Oval Office? Fourth? Your wishes aren’t QUITE hitting that star yet, is what I’m saying; you shoulda written down what that fuckin’ cricket said.
So, Stephen Miller’s grandmother died of COVID-19, and before you could even begin to wrestle with the question of how much sympathy a mass-murdering monster deserves for losing his Nana, the Shart House comms shop, aka Miller’s office, screeched “NO, COVID IS FAKE SHE DIED FROM LOVING HER GRANDSON TOO MUCH,” and this one’s right at the intersection of evil and banality, isn’t it?
Like, Stephen’s empathy-challenged idiot boss using his enormous platform to circulate the lie that kids don’t spread coronavirus, a lie that will absolutely get people killed, get CHILDREN killed; that’s obviously many degrees more heinous than fibbing about gramma’s death certificate, but y’know...if you’ll tell the small lie, of course you’ll tell the big one. I don’t wanna play pundit, but electing mendacious fools who don’t care about human life might’ve been a mistake.
The Fascist Farthuffer’s Former Fixer, Michael Cohen, joins Peevish Paul Manafort in home confinement (well, confinement in their own separate homes, of course, though that’d be one heckuva reality show), after a judge found he’d been sent back to prison in retaliation for his forthcoming book, “Crimes the President Ordered Me to Commit on His Behalf.” I’m emotionally torn here. I’m pro-Cohen-in-jail because he’s a felon, but definitely anti-imprisoning-enemies-of-the-regime-for-speaking-out, because fuck that fascist noise with rusty garden shears, and also pro-publishing-books-that-crotch-punt-Donnie-Dotard-before-the-election, but anti-Michael-Cohen-profiting-from-his-crimes. To say nothing of pro-using-hyphens-like-this, and anti-looking-up-if-doing-so-is-grammatically-allowable.
Don’t you just hate it when you have to cancel the massive cult rally you desperately needed to temporarily fill the loveless void that opened in your soul when your father sent you to military school JUST BECAUSE the pandemic you’ve let rage unobstructed through the country has spun so completely out of control that it isn’t safe to assemble in groups? Yeah, that’s a real bummer, Shart-Shart. I know you were looking forward to your little shindig down in Jacksonville, but then, 148,000 Americans (and counting) were looking forward to finishing out their natural lives, soooooooo...y’know, we’ve all got problems.
Like, how does Cult45 rationalize this shit? “Oh, obviously it is simultaneously unsafe for our leaders, who have naught but our best interests at heart, to hold their convention, but completely safe to send our children back to school, and you are a communist and a pedophile to contest either point!”
Well looka here, as if on cue, suddenly the CDC’s not-at-all politicized new guidelines say schools somehow magically became safe overnight, and that children and novel coronaviruses should frolic in the fields together because the risks of contraction and transmission are really quite low, tra-lee tra-la! Cool that the institutions we trust with our health and safety have been corrupted by a pudding-brained crook who STILL THINKS HE CAN LIE HIS WAY OUT OF A PANDEMIC, heaven help us all.
Anyway, yeah, we’re back at the point where the corpse mound is high enough that even President Crotchrot has to once again grudgingly confess the problem is kinda sorta almost real, and one really good reason to vote for Joe Biden is to break that fucking cycle before everybody’s dead or crazy.
Congressional Republicans are, of course, hard at work crafting legislation to help the covid-weary American public through these trying times. Take Louie Gohmert’s bill to abolish the Democratic Party BECUZ TH’CONFEDERACY HAW HAW HAW, reflecting the rapidly-emerging scientific consensus that the coronavirus can be contained by dipshit wingnut trolling.
Then there’s Tom Cotton, who can find no better use for his time than to performatively introduce nuisance legislation that would prevent public schools from teaching the New York Times’ 1619 project, because he really wants the whole world to know the precise longitude and latitude of his residence on the wrong side of history. I am so exhausted by everything that’s happened since Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s escalator descent directly into everyone’s brain, and knowing I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life fighting to keep men like Cotton away from power makes me want to scream till my throat explodes.
Major League Baseball’s pandemic-delayed opening day saw every player and coach save one kneel in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement, and folks, when traditionally conservative cultures like professional sports and People So Rich They Own Sports Teams are behaving like this, you know the ground is really moving. That Game Show Göring has so insistently planted his flag on the wrong side of this increasingly important issue certainly bodes well for November...and it’s also pretty fucking funny. These assclowns keep doing shit that everyone hates, and then they don’t get why their polls are bad. I mean...nobody tell ‘em, I guess.
And now Mitch McConnell and his useless, overmatched caucus seem to have finally noticed that the economy will melt down like Sam Nunberg (remember him?) without another stimulus bill, but they’re dithering over precisely how much new suffering the American people must be asked to bear in the name of the Republican Party’s catastrophic failures. Dunno about y’all, but that makes me want to elect a bunch of new Democratic Senators. Say, you remember the Action Guide from the midterms? Might be just about time to dust that thing off...
Well, I’m in Chicago, so I’m definitely curious/excited/filled with dread to see just how much fascism is coming to town this weekend, wish me luck! Wherever you are, stay safe, there are an awful lot of interesting things trying to kill you these days.
Fascist Idiots Fuck Up Literally Everything, Part LXXXVII (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Hey there, Resisters, hope the federal government hasn’t abducted you into an unmarked van, but if they have, I hope you’re getting good enough reception in there to read my shit. Things’re just gonna keep getting crazier and crazier out here, so you may be better off in the van, honestly.
(As always, get this post with nifty nooz links here: http://showercapblog.com/fascist-idiots-fuck-up-literally-everything-part-lxxxvii/)
Of course you know this by now, but yes, last weekend saw the passing of one of the greatest Americans who ever lived, Congressman John Lewis. God knows he deserved to be there the day we finally get rid of these cheap white supremacist thugs, but I guess we don’t get to make those calls. I don’t know what to do except grieve the loss, and get back to work.
I was actually worried I wouldn’t be able to get a blog up tonight, I’ve been so busy slapping the congressman’s name out of Republicans’ mouths as they vomit up their bullshit tributes, one after the other, as though they don’t spend their lives perpetrating the very evil Lewis spent his whole life fighting. That Mitch McConnell’s desk didn’t burst into flames for simultaneously holding both his disingenuous statement and the voting rights bill he’s been blocking certainly reaffirms my atheism, not that I’ve had many doubts lately, what with all the inescapable awfulness.
The Marco Rubio brand survived the nation’s moment of grief intact; we’ve come to expect clownishness and disappointment from the Florida Senator, and boy did he deliver with the All Civil Rights Heroes Look Alike to Me tweet we all knew was coming from at least one Republican Senator, and yeah, most likely Marco (Dan Sullivan, too!). And to think, some say the party has a racism problem.
I was gonna write about the lies in Dorito Mussolini’s latest anti-Biden ad, but Linkin Park got it taken down almost immediately over a copyright violation, because getting legally smacked down by pop musicians is somebody’s kink over there in the Shart Campaign. I’m sure losing a fight to aging suburban white boy rage rockers is great for projecting an authoritarian strongman image, right?
Anyhoo, even though the President assured us the coronavirus would go away, it has decidedly not gone away, wow, that’s weird, that bit always works on Chuck Todd. Florida seems hellbent on DiMaggioing their 10,000-cases-or-so every day streak, and we learned one Texas county has seen 85 infants test positive for COVID-19 since March.
Will you do me a favor and say that out loud to yourself? Scream it, ideally. EIGHTY-FIVE BABIES IN ONE COUNTY GOT COVID. There is NO fucking excuse for this to still be happening in the richest, most advanced nation in human history. We are not in the HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO stage anymore. We haven’t been for weeks. We know what we need to do. Every other first world nation has figured this shit out, and the solutions are right there on the internet, there isn’t even a paywall, though I’m willing to Venmo Jacinda Ardern a few bucks if it will speed things along, because I’m real fucking tired of being trapped inside my apartment by this state-mandated fake ignorance.
Because still, STILL, after all this time and trauma and devastation and death, the Treasonweasel Administration is actually trying to fucking block funding for testing and tracing in the next stimulus bill.
The MADNESS of that. It’s straight George R.R. Martin shit.
They’ve basically got Steve Mnuchin at the negotiating table, going, “The official position of the President and his campaign is that there is no coronavirus problem, and therefore we will not allow you to fight the coronavirus.”
What the living FUCK, man? Like, let’s work out a compromise where we get the funding but you pretend it never happened (you have a lot of practice with that shit, after all), we’re just trying to survive the last act of this tragedy, y’know?
Now, the second half of the master re-election plan, after Pretend Pandemic Isn’t Happening Tee Hee No One Will Ever Find Out Otherwise, is still to terrify suburban voters into backing him, by telling them campfire ghost stories about roving antifa mobs that’re coming to their neighborhoods to fuck up all their shit for Some Reason.
Trouble is, the mobs have been uncooperatively peaceful, which I guess isn’t that much of a problem if you’re planning a police state-style crackdown anyway. I mean, if you really want scary footage of violence in the streets, you can always just send unidentified federal officers out into said streets, and tell them to start hurting people. Of course no decent president would order such a monstrous thing, but a little while back, America decided that they’d rather sacrifice decency than take down the No Girls Allowed sign outside the Oval Office.
However, the city of Portland responded to Operation: Please Mom Can I Have Just a Little Fascism with an even larger, peacefuller protest, daring the goose-steppers to start some shit with the whole world watching, denying Hairplug Himmler the violent response he so desperately sought to provoke. This plan is horrifying, yes, but it’s also totally fucking transparent, because it’s been conceived by idiots.
Speaking of idiot goose-steppers, holy balls we have some eager little Hitler youth over at the Department of Homeland Security. Acting (and good luck getting the little Nazi confirmed, you fucks) DHS Secretary Chad Wolf may not have a thimble’s worth of experience to qualify him for his very powerful job, but he’s quite certain he has the authority to dispatch his unaccountable ICEtapo wherever he fucking well pleases, to kidnap whichever Americans they’re moved by the moment to kidnap, desires and rights of the local authorities be damned.
Chad Wolf is how shit like the Holocaust happens, folks. Angry, subpar dudes discover they can obtain positions of terrifying power by flattering a demagogue and enacting his violent will. We’re only lucky it took Government Cheese Goebbels so long to find the likes of Wolf and Bill Barr; contemplating the atrocities these fucks would commit if they got a second term would, I fear, spoil my sunny disposition.
And then there’s equally unconfirmed and unconfirmable Ken Cuccinelli, who has clearly been offered first pick of the concentration camps after the Night of the Long Knives. Cooch can’t wait to take this third world secret police act on the road, openly fantasizing about teaching all those big-city liberals a lesson ‘neath the heel of his shiny boot. Kenny is behaving like a man who wants to hurt as many people as he can before the cops drag him away, because that’s exactly what he is.
And on Fux n’ Fiendz, Resentment Spigot Tom Cotton practically drooled on himself in his giddiness to characterize Portland’s tear-gassed mom brigade as basically the same as Confederate traitors so why aren’t we lobbing cannonballs at them already? Anyway, the We Should Kill More Liberals wing of the Republican Party isn’t going away any time soon.
Apparently President Ostomy Bag saw the latest polling and finally decided, “Fuck it, I’m gonna need a job soon,” and applied for a position on the Biden campaign. What other possible explanation could there be for the interview he gave to Chris Wallace? “I’ll show America how stupid n’ crazy n’ dangerously unfit I am, Joe’ll be so glad, maybe he’ll ask the next Attorney General to go easy on me” kinda thing.
Because even in a world that’s grown numb to shitshows, this was a Shitshow for the Ages. The President of the United States of America, the most powerful man on the planet, called out to his face by a reporter for boasting about correctly identifying a drawing of an elephant. For a moment it was almost like a scene in a drawing-room comedy, the smirking Wallace heroically exposing a boorish oaf, and then you remembered, “right, this is the guy with unilateral authority to launch nuclear strikes,” and you cried/drank/screamed yourself to sleep.
And the cognitive test bit was merely one narrow slice of a very large cake made from howling lunacy, and frosted with Holy Fuck We Are All Going to Die. There were so many utterly insane things said in this interview, I’m almost tempted to link to the inevitable Chris Cillizza listicle, but I have, y’know...standards.
Anyway, the Biden camp said they’d try to find something appropriate, given Donnie’s experience and ability, but they already have a whole bunch of doorstops.
Roger Stone is certainly enjoying life without consequences, spitting a slur at a Black radio host during an interview, then immediately denying he’d done so, going through the full life cycle of the playground bully in just a few short minutes.
As expected, we’re seeing a lot of authoritarian lashing out from Tangerine Idi Amin during the “cornered rat” phase of his presidency, and I have to admit it’s not awesome. Allegedly he has interpreted the recent Supreme Court ruling on DACA to mean he has limitless powers to impose policy without Congress, the sort of basic misinterpretation of the Constitution that would get you held back in seventh grade, but of course the last three years have shown us the kind of damage he can inflict before the courts can stop him. The lame duck weeks are gonna be so great, when he tries to punish us all for rejecting him and sending him to military school why don’t you love me Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyyy we are so very very fucked.
He wasted little time taking his new Turns Out I’m God theory of presidential power out for a spin, ordering the exclusion of undocumented immigrants from the numbers used to draw new congressional districts after the census, which would be an enormous, disgusting boon to the institutional white supremacy that’s already saddled us with McConnell’s Tyranny of the Dirtbag Minority Senate, so fuck this racist power grab with something particularly jagged.
Everyone’s been so delighted with the magnificent spite the NeverTrumpers at the Lincoln Project have been spreading around the internet, I don’t have the heart to wake them from their dream of de-batshitifying the GOP in the A.D.* years, but...it ain’t happening, kids. This is not a cult looking to be deprogrammed. Shit, Allen West has just been elected chair of the Texas Republican Party. If your essays are at these gatherings at all, Bill Kristol, it’s only to get the bonfire for the book burning started. Sorry, bro.
People Magazine’s Sexiest Brain Alive Dr. Anthony Fauci has been selected to throw out the first pitch of the Washington Nationals’ pandemic-shortened season, something Cult45’s Crotchrash God has always been too terrified to do, since his puny arms wouldn’t be able to lob a baseball six fucking feet, not that his ineffectual baby hands could even grasp the thing in the first place. This is A+ trolling by the Nats, a great election-season reminder that the incumbent president is more pathetic than any character on Steve Buscemi’s resume.
Some skeevy Trump fan named Roy Den Hollander tried to murder a Latina judge he was obsessed with, wounding her husband and killing her son, because he was a racist “men’s rights activist” terrorist creep. I say “was,” because naturally, Hollander wasn’t man enough to face the consequences of his actions; he killed himself, so we should definitely approach his mewling loser manifestos on male superiority with scholarly rigor, I’m sure he has so much to teach us.
I believe in ongoing education, and today I learned the name of the Republican Speaker of the Ohio House of Representatives! It’s Larry Householder, and suddenly LOTS of people know who he is, on account of how he got arrested for (allegedly) participating in a $60 million bribery scheme. The Republican Party is basically an organized crime ring that earns voter support by shrieking about the War on Xmas, and you almost have to tip your cap to such a well-executed scam.
Meanwhile Smilin’ Joe Biden popped up to remind Vladimir Putin that his lease at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is just about up, and will not be renewed, by the way good luck getting your deposit back, asshole. Sure was refreshing to see a potential president take sides against the nation’s enemies for a change.
The feral assclowns of the Freedumb Caucus are hungrily circling Liz Cheney, who has betrayed the Emperor of Shitmaggots by (checks notes) urging folks to listen to science and Dr. Fauci rather than the What You Should Drink Is Bleach guy. If you’re going to fight amongst yourselves, children, at least let us watch.
And Melting Crisco Slab Ted Yoho, no doubt frustrated by the general uselessness and unimpressiveness of his pathetic life, lashed out vulgarly at Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, because FAMILY VALUES, right? Ted. Teddy. Congresswoman Ocasio-Cortez is your colleague, your equal, and that alone should command your respect were you not a walking lump of shit, but in all the ways that matter, she’s observably your superior. You’re slinking away after an entirely undistinguished career as one of the Koch brothers’ interchangeable puppets, because you don’t have the skill or the attention span to handle serving in the minority, shut your dumbfuck mouth and just go back to your office to start packing.
I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus has blown almost a billion dollars so far, with nothing to show for it beyond a rapidly-fading view of Joe Biden’s septuagenarian backside. If it’s any consolation, Dotard, you can always phone up Mike Bloomberg to commiserate; heck, you two could start a little support group.
And President Gas Station Urinal Cake brought back his precious coronavirus briefings today. He was reasonably well-behaved...for him, I suppose, (this is the sort of thought one has about an ill-trained dog, but here we are) though he did wish notorious sex trafficker Ghislaine Maxwell well, because...fuck, I dunno, maybe some witch placed a curse on him where he’s incapable of opening his mouth without belching up the most indecent imaginable bile? I got nothin’ here. Fuck.
Welp, I’m sure I missed shit tonight, but that’s about as much as I can fucking take. If anybody needs me, I’m gonna grab a six pack of something and stumble around muttering BUT HER EMAILS to myself.
*After Dotard
This Week in Hell: Oh, Everything's Basically Fine. I Could Nitpick, I Guess. (Ferret/Shower Cap)
The news sure is somethin’ these days. It’s been kind of interesting to discover that the worst people in the world are also the stupidest. It probably would’ve been more desirable to uncover that little nugget in a game of Scrabble, rather than by giving them earth-shaking political power, but I suppose that ship has sailed.
(Say wouldn’t it be neat if you could get this blog with news links? Oh shit: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-oh-everythings-basically-fine-i-could-nitpick-i-guess/)
The Marmalade Shartcannon’s war on Dr. Fauci is going about as well as his war on the coronavirus, and that’s good news for Fauci, anyway. It’s certainly reassuring to see such an open assault on science and expertise backfire so quickly and decisively, and as an added bonus, young Peter Navarro has been given an opportunity to learn a valuable lesson about the loyalty one can expect when one debases oneself for Donald Trump’s benefit. And if he doesn’t learn it, well, that’s okay, too.
Terrible news, Resisters. Despite our once-total domination over the deep state, Detective Dotard has somehow uncovered our insidious plot...to destroy the suburbs! I know you’re particularly disappointed, Dale, since you were the head of the task force in charge of destroying all the overly-manicured median gardens, but don’t worry, we shall transition seamlessly into the latest phase of Operation: Jade Helm, in which we Jade Helm the living shit out of all the windows, they’ll never that one coming. Wait, what? GODDAMMIT!
I get a kick out of hearing about all the new things us satanic leftists want to abolish. The suburbs. Kittens. Warm chocolate chip cookies. Watch out, Real Americans, we’re gonna abolish the pocket on just the left side of your pants. You’re gonna reach for your keys, and there won’t be any pocket there. You’re gonna goose yourself. It’ll be real gross and embarrassing, but also kinda sexy, and you’re gonna feel bad about that in church.
Freshman Kansas GOP Congressjag(for now) Steve Watkins is already shitting the bed at the cushy government job his daddy bought for him, earning three felony charges for the sort of voter fraud his party claims is rampant in the electorate at large, but which only seems to be actually committed by Republican officials. See, Stevie Boy got caught using a UPS store as his home address to vote, and these conservative young guns just keep on turnin’ out to be felons, I wonder what’s up with that?
Anyway, I know he’s a bit behind, but I’m optimistic the President will finally, finally get to work on the pandemic, just as soon as he’s done shilling beans behind the Resolute desk like a back-up outfielder doing a local used car dealership spot. Now, you’re probably mad at your commander in chief for caring more about a can of beans than the tens of thousands of Americans dead from his bungling negligence, but you have to understand, the CEO of the bean company handjobbed his ego for a bit, while you whiners with your “please stop killing us” bullshit keep cutting into his golf time.
As evidenced by the catastrophic non-response to the coronavirus outbreak, the Treasonweasel Administration just plain doesn’t like working, even when it’s really important (and we should’ve learned that lesson after Hurricane Maria), but what do they do with their time? Why, settle political scores, of course! Anyway it’s totally strange and unexpected that the gang of malicious trolls who felt the need to fabricate smears against Lt. Col. Alexander Vindman in order to derail his career wound up botching a global crisis; I guess petty vindictiveness isn’t really a useful skill in this situation. I guess it really isn’t a skill at all, and yet it’s all anyone in the White House has to offer.
Speaking of the wad of seething malice men call the Republican Party, Oklahoma’s Kevin Stitt became the first governor to catch the ‘rona, a truly inexplicable coincidence after his maskless appearance at Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s What if You Threw a Nuremberg Rally in Tulsa and Nobody Came shindig. I bet being a footnote at one of modern political history’s most humiliating failures was totally worth risking your life for, Kev. Anyhow, real nice job on that governor, Oklahoma, his brain very nearly functions.
It’s seems there are only so many tens of millions of dollars you can grift off the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus before they notice the septuagenarian former Vice President effortlessly running laps around you, tauntingly drinking water with just one hand and waving the latest polls in the other. What I’m trying to say is young Bradward Parscale finally got shitcanned, or reassigned anyway, but he’ll keep drawing a fat Cult45-funded salary because his dirtbag boss is pathologically incapable of admitting error.
Anyhow, the new guy, Bridgegate alum Bill Stepien, is already deploying the reality-denying Pay No Attention to the Hole From That Iceberg I Assure You We Are Winning So Very Hard technique that’s been so successful against the coronavirus. Under most circumstances I’d say it’s unforgivable to work for President Crotchrot in any capacity, but I’m willing to look the other way when it comes to stooges who instill false confidence.
And of course Trumpist Republicans still don’t want people to wear masks, which I think is a little bit weird, since mask-wearing is the best tool we have available to us to contain the pandemic that’s kidney-punched our lives and curb-stomped our economy, and especially since strapping a small piece of fabric to your face from time to time is the tiniest imaginable ask for such an enormous benefit, but we live in challenging times.
Dr. Ronny Jackson, who parlayed the celebrity borne of lying about Sharty McFly’s weight into a victory in the Republican primary in Texas’ 13th district and therefore likely a career in the United States Congress (despite having been deemed too toxically unqualified for a cabinet post even in this hopelessly corrupt, standards-challenged administration) became the latest prominent Republican to proclaim science to be “for cucks,” insisting it’s a “personal choice” whether you want to enable the spread of a deadly disease or not, and you’re certainly free to vote for this party; I just think you should understand in advance that they’re actively trying to kill you.
Georgia Governor Brian Kemp disagrees with Dr. Ronny; there’s no personal choice here, in fact the state must intervene on behalf of the fucking virus. Who are we to obstruct COVID-19’s freedom, after all? And if any of his state’s mayors should betray this sacred principle, and attempt to protect and preserve the lives of their constituents, well, then by the ghost of George Wallace, they shall be stopped!
Yes, Kemp can think of no better use for his purloined power than to overrule Georgia municipalities’ mask mandates, going so far as to sue Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms to prevent her from acting in the interest of public health. See, it’s not bad enough that the GOP has devolved into a gibbering death cult; they insist upon conscripting the rest of us into their suicidal congregation, willing or not.
And Wee Donnie Two-Scoops staged a sad little presentation that would’ve earned me a C- in Mrs. Wimmer’s speech class back in high school, complete with cheaply-made visual aids (Trump-branded, no doubt) designed to communicate the oppressive weight of the regulations Joe “Guy Who Loves Regulations, I Guess” Biden plans to inflict upon the economy. It’s sort of adorable that these clowns imagine they can change the subject right now, like America might go, “yeah, not having a job sucks, and I certainly don’t love that literally everything is dangerous now, but come to think of it, my dishwasher IS kinda wussy.”
Honestly, Hairplug Himmler knows he can’t defeat Joe Biden, and he’s pulling his hair out trying to craft some demonic Mirror Universe Biden in the public imagination. (Well, he would be, if his hands weren’t so small and weak.) The idea seems to be that the minute Joe takes the oath of office, he’s gonna peel off his face and reveal he was Bernie Sanders this whole time, nay, a Giant Ninja Cyborg Mega-Bernie, ravaging the suburbs in order to steal white folks’ water pressure and give it to Those People, a modern day diversity-crazed Robin Hood...of water pressure.
Anyway, it's not going well for him, thank God, and he even ran face-first into a fact-checking buzzsaw in the friendly confines of Fux Nooz, which was actually one helluva thing to see.
What else is going on? Oh, your federal government seems to be test-driving a violent police state crackdown operation in Portland, Oregon, that’s fun. Unidentified federal law enforcement officers abducting protesters into unmarked vehicles, detaining them unconstitutionally? SO fun! Grab a sno cone and watch the shittiest people alive set fire to American democracy, WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Yeah, even though they’ve been asked to leave by state and local officials, there’s a heavily-armed military force accountable only to the floundering fascists in Washington, playfully testing the limits of just how much atrocity America will allow, like velociraptors, only less adorable and, tragically, real.
Fuck. I know we wanted to believe Government Cheese Goebbels learned his lesson after the ferocious and damn near universal backlash to his little stunt in Lafayette Square, but OH RIGHT he’s incapable of learning, how fucking silly of us.
Acting DHS Secretary Chad Wolf is clearly having the time of his life, unleashing state violence on Americans exercising their constitutional rights, gleefully tweeting “this shit is better than Viagra!” before taking another hit of nitrous oxide, Little Shop of Horrors-style. Wolf justifies his actions, the most anti-American behavior by a U.S. cabinet secretary since Kirstjen Nielsen and her Kiddie Koncentration Kamps, by insisting there was a lot of graffiti. GRAFFITI. America, you get the Gestapo in the streets over Kilroy Was Here now, got that?
Look, we all know the protests have largely been peaceful, but the faltering, fart-huffing, fascist incumbent has decided he wants to run against rampaging antifa hordes, so if he has to jazz reality up a little bit to get the footage he’s looking for, well, that’s show biz, people!
I guess when you decide to go full fascist, loyalty tests are the next logical step. Anyway, that’s what your federal government is doing, probing numerous officials’ fealty to the Emperor of Hemorrhoids, obviously an excellent use of time and resources during this, a period in which the United States faces no serious crises, and certainly not three at once.
I see the Pentagon banned the Confederate flag on military property and that news is certainly awesome, if a teensy bit overdue, but speaking on behalf of a nation sinking in quicksand, we’d have vastly preferred a rope.
Mary Trump is making the rounds promoting her new book, and she says Unca Donald is mean, stupid, crazy and racist. Hope you were sitting down when you read that.
And now the Shart House is blocking CDC officials from testifying before Congressional hearings about safely reopening schools. It’s for the best, honestly. I mean, if there’s one time you don’t want to hear from snooty expert types, it’s when your children’s safety is at risk, right? I think we should just leave it to Betsy DeVos, she seems to have a healthy respect for human life.
And it’s gotta be said, regarding schools...just like at every other stage of this pandemic, the Die Plebs Die Administration’s strategy has been “pretend reality isn’t reality.” It hasn’t worked yet, not once, because reality IS reality; that’s what it makes it reality. My point is, it won’t work this time either, OBVIOUSLY, so what, precisely, is the fucking plan for the inevitable consequences of forcing the nation’s children into death pits? When the plan is 100% doomed to failure, you should be forced to show your follow-up plan to deal with your murderous mess, you genocidal clods.
And yeah, Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s cancer is back. It’s been that kinda week, folks. And I’m not gonna lie to y’all, it’s been fuckin’ GETTING TO ME lately. But y’know what? What RBG’s staring down is much, much bigger and harder than anything on my plate, so I figure I owe it to her to solider on.
109 days, Resisters. I can almost smell the bloody nose I’ll get from intercepting a champagne cork with my face on election night. Shit's worse than it was last week, and it’s gonna get even worse next week, but there’s a pinprick on the horizon that I’m pretty fucking sure is the light at the end of the tunnel; it’s vaguely Joe-Biden-shaped, so look out, Malarkey, thy reign is near its end.
Congratulations On Surviving Another Week When Your Government is Trying So Hard to Kill You(Ferret)
I dunno how much more of this I can take, Resisters. I keep buying calendars and tearing off all the pages between now and next January, hoping I can trick time into letting me skip ahead because the only thing I want from life anymore is one week where I don’t have to look at the news, not even once. This is not that week.
(As always, you can find this post, in living color and with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/congratulations-dear-reader-on-surviving-another-week-when-your-government-is-trying-so-hard-to-kill-you/)
Well, the United States continues digging its ever-deepening hole, as we dementedly seek the Gem of Ultimate COVID Madness which Jules Verne theorized is waiting for us at the center of the Earth. While it would be nice to get out of this hole at some point, the federal government won’t give us any tools except shovels made of crystallized stupidity, which I’m told a company owned by Steve Mnuchin invested in heavily.
You touch the stove, you burn your hand, you stop touching the stove; that’s how it’s supposed to work. American culture burns the left hand, burns the right hand, burns both feet, and still bombastically demands the “freedom” to sit bare-assed on the stove. American culture is already fantasizing about teabagging the stove tomorrow; that’ll own the libs for sure.
And nowhere in America do the fires of freedumb burn any brighter (duller?) than in Florida. Ron DeSantis’ Sid-and-Marty-Krofft-esque COVID playground announced 15,300 new cases in just one day, more than even New York saw when shit was looking positively apocalyptic, only Ron-Ron had every opportunity to learn from NY’s mistakes, and instead decided “nah, I’d really rather get a bunch of my constituents killed in order to follow the obviously terrible example set by the deranged head of my party, a visibly-deteriorating nitwit literally everyone understands to be dangerously wrong on this crucial issue.”
Considering this batshit state of affairs in Florida, as well as other GOP-led states/hot zones like Texas and Arizona, I would like to humbly suggest that you vote Democrat this November...if you want to live.
We learned that back in 2017, when we should have impeached and removed Tangerine Idi Amin for his genocidal neglect of Puerto Rico in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria, the blithering dolt actually proposed selling the island rather than dealing with the hassle of doing anything to help all those pesky non-white American citizens suffering there. Y’know, if you were to take this extremely emblematic mashup of casual bigotry and criminal laziness and dip it in some shitty white chocolate, you’d have yourself an official Trump-branded candy bar.
I trust everyone is enjoying this super-fun, hyper-normal debate we’re having in America right now, over how many children (and teachers) should be required to die for Donald Trump’s re-election campaign. Friends, we are as fucked as we’ve ever been, trapped in here as we are with this madman who would happily see us all dead if it meant keeping out of prison. And he can’t run for re-election on his record, because his record is a historic disaster, (dare I even say, in my best David Attenborough voice, an historic disaster) and so we’re left dealing with this insane EVERYTHING’S NORMAL WOULD YOU KINDLY JUMP IN THE SHARK-INFESTED WATERS gambit, and of course it wouldn’t be such a big deal except for the tens of millions of brainwashed idiots who will do whatever the fuck he tells them to, and the fact that they can carry the sharks home to eat grandma and grandpa. We’re FUCKED, is my point.
And of course Betsy DeVos stands, bloody and cackling amidst the carnage, delighted to finally have a chance to not just torment peasant children, but end their lives. Let’s just say I have some suspicions that her Build Schools Out of Delicious Gingerbread initiative truly has our kids’ best interests at heart. Meanwhile, Louisiana Senator/Faux Fun Uncle John Kennedy invites any wussy cuck libtards who think children’s lives matter more than the failed, fascist GOP’s immediate electoral future to kiss his ass. Teachers are writing motherfucking WILLS, and Republican officials are buying popcorn at the concession stand, waiting to cheer along as they die.
Tucker Carlson came off about as believable as Bob Balaban playing Dirty Harry in his Whoops I Hired a White Supremacist Lead Writer Oh Well Gonna Go Trout Fishing non-apology, which was really more of a lament for the poor white supremacist boy who lost his job and aren’t the real villains the reporters who exposed the most shittily-kept secret in cable news? Bro, WE KNOW. You hired a white supremacist to write white supremacist shit because what you do for a living is say white supremacist shit to the delight of white supremacists. There is not one human being who knows your work who does not understand this. We do these weird little ritual dances where everyone pretends to be shocked and you go trout fishing and then you come back and start belching up white supremacist bile again, but we all understand what’s going on. Let’s dispense with the theatre; we’d all save so much TIME.
Anyway, I don’t want to move on without pointing out that Liar Tuck’s now ex-hatescribe, Blake Neff, is of course one of those cartoonishly schlubby nazi nerds who radiates so much mediocrity that you can’t help but giggle when they claim racial superiority. Kid, you look like the product of artificial insemination using semen scrapped off the urinal in a meth lab and an ovum from a pot-bellied pig; you are a walking billboard blaring that yours cannot possibly be the master race, for it contains you.
Well, eleventy-five weeks into the coronavirus crisis, the Turdmaggot Administration is finally ramping up the campaign...against Dr. Anthony Fauci. Y’see, President Crotchvoid is jealous that Fauci’s approval numbers are better than his (and I haven’t looked into the crosstabs or anything, but I suspect this has something to do with one dude actively facilitating the senseless deaths of tens of thousands, and the other dude trying to stop that shit, but it may ultimately just be a beauty contest) and therefore our leading epidemiologist must be undermined, causing further distrust in science, blah blah blah trickling down to MORE DEAD AMERICANS. Got that? Don-Don jealous of Science Man, therefore MORE DEAD AMERICANS. Electing a narcissist was a mistake.
While the executive branch of the United States government works to destroy their own expert’s credibility, one voice Doctor Dotard is amplifying is fellow mentally-disintegrating game show host Chuck Woolery, one of those z-list celebrities that redpilled himself into intellectual oblivion and now shares a brain with James Woods. I bring this up in case you’re wondering what your president does with the time he isn’t using to read his daily briefings or end the crisis that’s had you locked in your home since what feels like prehistory.
Chief of Staff Mark Meadows might get around to doing something about the pandemic someday, but he’s a little busy right now setting sub-Encyclopedia-Brown-level traps in his pathetically futile effort to uncover the leakers that’ve been keeping America informed about all the lethal hijinks and deadly fuck-ups going down on the RMS Shartanic. Your mom must be proud, Mark.
Now, as a person who likely wants to see schools reopen and sporting events return, and who also wants to, y’know, SURVIVE TILL NEXT YEAR, these priorities are probably rather upsetting to you, but if you really expected Sharty McFly to care more about 140,00 dead Americans than the ego laceration that comes from millions of people learning what a Bunker Bitch he is, you apparently haven’t even glanced at the news in four years, and can I say I deeply fucking envy that.
So, a gun industry lobbyist that successfully burrowed his way into the Hell Yes We’re For Sale...Cheap! Administration finally got a ban on selling silencers to private buyers abroad overturned, a move the military says threatens our troops’ safety, but I think recent headlines have proven that’s hardly a dealbreaker for our treacherous Commander in Chief. Might as well make a tidy profit selling equipment to the assassins collecting those Russian bounties, right?
Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo is rattling a cheap plastic toy saber, likely from a small child’s Halloween costume, a pirate or something, at China, and one has to wonder, does he really believe America is feared and respected under the leadership of a world-renowned clod? Or is he leaning into the God Knows What the Dangerous Idiot Will Do If You Make Him Mad strategy, basically the North Korea model only with a superpower’s arsenal? Or, most likely, is he simply trying to generate a little buzz for Wee Don’s lame new “China Joe” nickname? Can’t wait for the grown-ups to take over State again, can you?
Obviously exhausted from the all the golf and murder, to say nothing of the polls showing his sweet, sweet legal immunity is rapidly running out, and stripped of his precious rallies, Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet is a shadow of his former self, half-heartedly attempting to compare his Monthslong Coronavirus Fuckup Spectacular to the Obama/Biden H1N1 response, and whatever. At this point your shrinking rube army is so brainwashed and beaten down you may as well rub their faces in your ability to define their reality. In about three weeks, that paste-eating kid from third grade is gonna start screaming on your Facebook wall about how Joe Biden is a centaur who non-consensually fucks 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supremes, and he’s going to mean it with every fiber of his being.
Princess Ivanka decided now was an appropriate moment to taunt the millions thrown into unemployment by her father’s homicidal blundering, encouraging America’s exhausted, terrified workforce to Try Something New!™️ See, this depression-level job market is actually a fun opportunity to eat/pray/love your way to a thrilling n’ fulfilling new career! Like, maybe if you’re bored with stealing shoe designs and leveraging Daddy’s government job into Chinese trademarks, he’ll let you play cabinet secretary for awhile! It’ll be LIT, kids!
The attempt to use the pandemic as an excuse to develop arbitrary new excuses to deport international students blew up in Team Klanrunt’s face, like so many of their efforts, because they are as incompetent as they are hateful, which is to say very incompetent indeed. Ah well. I’m sure Stephen Miller’s Secret Santa will come up with something else. Say, that spray-on hair a few years back went over GREAT.
Ummmmmmmm what else is going on here in Hell? Should we check in on any dangling subplots? President Gas Station Urinal Cake is still doing all he can to destroy the United States Postal Service, of course. Yes, he’s trying to murder our institutions in addition to killing us one by one with the coronavirus; it’s a surprisingly sophisticated operation for a doddering old man who can’t even pick out pants that fit; I suspect Uncle Vlad is giving him pointers*.
And now the Seriously Why Aren’t You Plebs Dead Yet Administration has ordered hospitals to skip over those dorks at the CDC with their silly ol’ “science” and their silly ol’ “transparency,” and report COVID-19 data directly to a shredder in Mike Pants’ office, and golly, if we were being governed by incompetent goons desperate to conceal the scope of their disastrous failures from the public, we’d really be in trouble right now, but luckily WELL SHIT.
Squeezably Soft Telefascist Seb Gorka is back in the federal government, because when a rampaging autocrat learns he has fully domesticated one of America’s once-great political parties to the extent that they’ll let him get away with deploying the U.S. military against peaceful protesters, what’s one unqualified Hungarian Nazi more or less?
Oh, I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus has been recruiting campaign volunteers in the extremely-non-politically-correct exploitation film asylums of QAnon! I guess with the nasties over at the Lincoln Project scooping up all the recent Republicans with residual guilt/patriotism/decency, it’s tough to find door-knockers, huh?
And now you’re telling me they found a squirrel carrying bubonic plague in Colorado? Okay, okay, I get it...you guys can come out from behind the curtains now, these last few years have all been an elaborate prank on me personally, and everybody’s about to peel off their Mission Impossible masks, break down the set, and explain how you trapped me in this bizarre, epic, Truman Show experiment, right...fucking RIGHT?
Fuckin’ PLAGUE SQUIRRELS. Fuck you, The News, you jumped the shark with the murder hornets, I’m done with this show. Just as soon as I figure out how to make the clicker change the channel outside my window. Until then, I guess I’ll keep drinking. Sigh. Stay safe out there, friends.
*Or, y’know...orders.
This Week in Hell: Somehow, It Got Worse. It Always Does. I Don't Understand How, But It Does.(F/SC)
Wow, and I thought I was stir-crazy back when I saw a potential end to quarantine conditions. Now that we’re in “oh, the ruling party has decided to pretend everything is just dandy, so we’re stuck with this shit until they’re dragged, biting and clawing, from the White House“ territory, I’ve taken the precaution of having my entire apartment padded for my safety. While I test out my new straightjacket, let’s do the news...
(And yes, this post can be found, in living color, with nifty nooz links, here: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-somehow-it-got-worse-it-always-does-i-dont-understand-how-but-it-does/)
Welp, Tangerine Idi Amin believes he’s stumbled onto the secret to re-election and that secret is DEAD CHILDREN. Even as his bullheaded insistence on “reopening the economy” has led to massive COVID outbreaks, particularly in states run by sycophantic know-nothing Republican governors, he’s somehow convinced himself that his months of deadly dithering and lethal incompetence will be forgiven, and he’ll be borne as a god by a grateful public, if he can only trick schools into believing everything is safe and good and normal so they’ll open next month.
The plan here seems to center around screeching, “Democrats want to keep schools closed for political purposes, while only I, possibly the single dumbest person in human history, care about education,” but of course the easily discernible reality is more along the lines of, “I view your children’s lives as completely expendable in my demented quest to falsely project normalcy, and Democrats are your only hope of stopping my murderous madness, which has reached biblical levels.”
See, we aren’t anywhere close to meeting the guidelines Sharty McFly’s own CDC has set for safe school reopenings, so naturally the solution is to simply make up some new guidelines, because science and reality bow to political pressure all the time; who can forget that one summer when we all signed that petition that changed the freezing point of water?
Just to be extra sinister/politically suicidal, Baron Golfin von Fatfuk even threatened to cut funding to any schools that refused to convert their classrooms into modern day Roman Coliseums, only with coronavirus instead of lions. Now, setting aside the fact that he lacks the power to follow through on this threat, let us once again take note that his first impulse is, as always, “I’m not getting my way, and therefore millions must suffer,” a motivation I always found rather difficult to believe in comic book/action film villains, but holy balls of pure fuck do I ever understand that shit now.
Anyway, welcome to the point in American history when the President of the United States lied about a major public health risk to CHILDREN in a deranged attempt to preserve his own political prospects. When he adopted a re-election strategy contingent on a willful, unnecessary increase in CHILD DEATHS. Shit, I expect he’ll even market Trump branded, child-sized coffins, with the Confederate flag printed right on the lid. Those of you aspiring to someday write history textbooks: for the love of God, please remember to include this shit.
While we’re on the coronavirus front, you’ll be pleased to learn your “wartime president” has indeed declared war...on Dr. Anthony Fauci! “He's made a lot of mistakes,” says the monstrous nitwit with the blood of 136,000 Americans on his (freakishly small) hands, of the nation’s leading epidemiologist, and like, WOW for daring to point that particular (tiny, inadequate) finger. Old man, the fruits of your recent “mistakes” are all around us, they’re measured in jobs lost, lives wrecked, and, oh yeah, TOMBSTONES.
Anyway, word is he’s not even talking to Fauci now. Gosh, Donnie, I bet these playground tactics totally work; I bet if you tell the coronavirus it can’t sit at your table in the lunchroom, it’ll beg its mom to transfer to another school, all your fucking problems will vanish in a puff of narcissistic fantasy, and you’ll cruise to re-election.
Lawmakers down in Mississippi were far too virile and manly to wear any sissy-ass face masks, and the coronavirus responded to their uncontainable machismo by infecting a whole bunch of them with COVID-19 because, and I’ll say this slowly since it doesn’t seem to be sinking in with some of y’all, IT IS A VIRUS AND YOU CANNOT TRICK IT THE WAY YOU TRICK CHUCK TODD. You can’t bothsides a disease, campers. Yes, that will be on the test.
In the rarest of victories for an administration that has become synonymous with catastrophic, humiliating failure, the Turd Reich successfully bullied Lt. Colonel Alexander Vindman into retiring from the Army, by interfering with his well-earned promotion. Vindman is a tested, proven hero and patriot, and ordinarily these are traits you’d think a nation would value in their military officers, but it turns out standards are a wee bit different when you put treacherous grifters in charge, and so this president's crimes have cost the nation the service of another good man. So yes, a “victory” for Team Treasonweasel, but another tragic setback for the United States of America, kinda nutty how that sort of shit keeps happening, huh?
Well, the Fascist Farthuffer’s Former Fixer, Michael Cohen, looked the gift horse of his rich white dude privilege square in the mouth, and now he is back in prison, let us point at him and laugh. Having been undeservedly released to home confinement on account of the pandemic while untold thousands of poor, non-white folks remained locked inside COVID farms for non-violent drug offenses, the Sensei of Sez-Hoo violated the terms of his release at a fancy restaurant, and refused to abide by a gag order, which feels pretty cocky for a confessed felon. Anyway, do Paul Manafort next.
Like my Daddy always said, never bring a supbar white supremacist douchebag to a war hero fight. Ok, my father never actually said that, but if Tucker Carlson ever recovers from the butt-whoopin’ he’s received this week, it’s surely a lesson he’ll pass down to his drooling, mediocre spawn. Liar Tuck has been lashing out at his betters more and more as his Turd Emperor’s re-election chances have plummeted, and lately he’s been fixated on my own Junior Senator, Tammy Duckworth, presumably because he wanted to know what it feels like to have a titanium boot up his lackluster ass. Heh. Wonder no more, fuck-o.
The Supreme Court rejected Hairplug Himmler’s But I Do So Wish to Be Above the Law; It’s Ever So Much Easier to Commit Crimes That Way argument, and ruled he does indeed have to turn his financial records over to New York prosecutors, and I guess it’s cool that there’s a 7-2 SCOTUS majority that agrees “well yeah, the rule of law exists,” but also HOLY SHIT Alito n’ Thomas, the fuck’re you two smoking?
And yes, many have pointed out that Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops has essentially successfully run out the clock here in terms of hiding his finances from the electorate, and that’s both true and a goddamn shame, but hey, it’s still pretty fucking funny watching a rage-blind Lou Dobbs rant that Gorsuch and Kavanaugh are part of the Deep State now.
I guess when you’re on one of history’s all-time greatest losing streaks, you have to celebrate your tiny triumphs wherever you find ‘em, but I for one would appreciate it if President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster would stop bragging about “acing” his basic cognitive test over at Walter Reed. It’s embarrassing, bro. Wait, what’s that? You say he’s even boasted the doctors were “very surprised” his brain actually works? Good lord. Find your stamp collection right now, I guarantee you all the dead presidents are blushing.
After weeks of pointlessly transforming an extremely simple, low-sacrifice gesture into a culture war controversy, at the cost of countless lives, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot finally agreed to be filmed wearing a goddamn mask during his upcoming visit to the above-mentioned Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. While I’m glad he’s finally doing it, and I certainly hope it’s not too late to get the frothy hordes of Cult45 to change their virus-spreading ways, what do you tell the thousands who died for nothing more important than one egomaniac’s vanity? Grief seems inadequate; I can offer only rage, and links to Democratic campaigns.
Well, hydroxychloroquine still doesn’t work as a COVID-19 treatment, and Peter Navarro still has absolutely zero qualifications to make one fucking comment about anything remotely related to epidemiology (he’s an gibbering nitwit when it comes to trade, and that’s his life’s work), so naturally Navarro is out there pimping hydroxycloroquine again. It’s amazing the lengths these malicious clowns will go to, to avoid listening to science, particularly since listening to science is literally their only hope for political survival. They’ll try anything, ANYTHING...except the one thing that will work, which they have categorically ruled out, and holy fuck these idiots are in charge, because we live in Hell.
I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus cancelled a planned weekend rally in New Hampshire, citing concerns about Tropical Storm Tulsa Sure Was Embarrassing Wasn’t It, because weather reports show that while it will likely have stopped raining hours before the planned event, there was also only a very slight chance of People Dumb and Brainwashed Enough to Risk Their Lives to Watch a Deluded Old Man Yell About His Polling For an Hour.
Of course, the reluctance to sign up for the latest coronafest probably has something to do with the COVID surge Tulsa has seen in the aftermath of Weehands McNodick’s laughably-under-attended “rally” late last month. Congratulations, Dotard, you may not be much of a president, but you’re the Johnny Appleseed of Pestilence.
Late-breaking news reveals a prominent writer on Tucker Carlson’s staff resigned for being hellaciously racist, and I guess the “resigned” part is surprising. Fox will keep Carlson on the air, broadcasting his hateful filth, even though advertisers have almost entirely fled, because they like broadcasting his hateful filth, and they believe his hateful filth is something the country needs more of.
In even later-breaking news, President Crotchrot has, as expected, commuted What if Beetlejuice Was in Grumpy Old Men Cosplayer Roger Stone’s sentence, so yet another Trumpist felon has evaded justice. Once again, I say, let him wallow in his petty victory; this pardon power will be long gone when he wants it most, and that day has grown quite close indeed.
Ok, I’m gonna sneak off now before the late late late news breaks, probably about Putin buying America’s nuclear arsenal off the Dotard for a fistful of shiny beads. Fuck. I need a drink. Stay safe out there, Resisters...
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