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TheFerret

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Member since: Fri Mar 24, 2017, 06:48 PM
Number of posts: 488

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Cruz? DeJoy? Taylor-Greene? The News Delivered a Bouquet of Buttholes This Week (F/SC)

Has anybody hit their quarantiniversary yet? I’m starting to make plans for mine; I ordered a really soft, fancy pillow I’m planning to scream into for a few hours, and then maybe I’ll order some tiramisu to eat out of a styrofoam delivery container that was designed for a fast food hamburger. So that’ll be fun, but until then, the news:

(Yeah yeah blog link: http://showercapblog.com/cruz-dejoy-taylor-greene-the-news-delivered-a-bouquet-of-buttholes-this-week/)

I dunno if I actually have any Republican readers, but just a heads up, it’s not enough for you to hate Joe Biden anymore, it’s also really, really important that you hate his dogs, too. Look, I don’t make the rules. Personally, I think y’all would enjoy life a little more if you pried your mind off the 24-hour Orwellian rage carousel, but please, don’t let me interrupt your descent into madness.

Peter “What if Mouth Herpes Was an Economist Well Not the Economist Part So Much But Definitely The Herpes” Navarro went on Steve Bannon’s show to excommunicate Marc Short from the Church of Trump for advising his boss (former Vice President/attempted lynching target Michael Pants) against attempting to overturn the 2020 election via a plan so idiotic it could only have originated in the cavernous skull of Louie Gohmert. In case anyone’s wondering about the state of the “Republican Civil War.”

Steve “David Duke without the baggage” Scalise is equally down with the Big Lie, meaning the House Minority Whip, one of the most prominent and powerful Republicans in the country, has witnessed his party’s flirtations with fascism, evaluated the results, (you may remember such hits as “The Night We Ran a Biden Campaign Bus Off the Road” and “Everybody Lynch Mike Pence Tonight and Maybe Also Wang Chung if There’s Time”) and decided to head back to the buffet for another plateful of that shit.

One kinda wants to sit these dolts down and ask them where they think this is all headed, because we’ve crossed a pretty big line here, (it was red, and it said “make real goddamn sure you want to unleash these forces cuz last century they set the whole world on fire”) and the outcomes that’re on the table now are pretty freaky.

Folks, the recent defiler of the Oval Office rather actively pursued his own personal fantasy mashup of Putinesque organized criminal looting and Brownshirts-in-the-streets white supremacist violence, and you can’t feed the beast that weaned on that kind of craziness with tax cuts for rich people.

These men know how weak they are by now, (lookin’ at you, Minority Leader Chamberla-er, McCarthy) they KNOW they can’t tame this tiger, and I just think it’s in everyone’s interest that they stop tossing bloody chunks of raw meat at the fucker.

Meanwhile Ted Cruz is out there, trying to hijack his Turd Emperor’s “How dare those vicious libs insult your Dear Leader” bit, forgetting that he’s A) loathsome and B) entirely incapable of masking his loathsomeness, and thus, incapable of inspiring the devotion necessary to successfully manage the late shift at Starbucks, let alone head up a cult of personality. Stop trying to make Ted Cruz happen, Ted Cruz. Ted Cruz isn’t going to happen.

Hey, speaking of the shapeless wad of (mostly) male mediocrity known as the Senate Republican Caucus, Ron Johnson has apparently decided to serve as the official mouthpiece of Shitty White Boy Terrorism in Congress, parroting debunked lies that the January 6th Capitol riot was merely a gathering of wholesome, fuzzy Trump supporters who came together to discuss how much they all loved cupcakes, until antifa spoiled everything, those dirty rotten bastards.

I don’t want it to sound like I’m asking for better Nazis or anything, but it’s fucking embarrassing to me that it’s men like RoJo, the human equivalent of a rug you throw out because the cat pissed on it, leading this authoritarian incursion into the nation's shared reality. I guess I’ve just been conditioned, from movies probably, to expect cult leaders to be charismatic, even seductive, and it turned out all it took to drive a third of the country out of their ever-loving minds was a little yammering from the most visibly subpar white dudes this side of a Gamergate Xmas party. American exceptionalism my ass.

Meghan McCain threw a What If White Privilege and the Sound of Nails on a Chalkboard Had a Kid shitfit, demanding Dr. Facui’s firing, because Republicans still think that yelling at science when it tells you something you don’t like is useful, on account of the way the conservative mind stopped evolving one sunny Sunday afternoon during a leeching.

Well, the Supreme Court finally Old Yellered Donnie Scoops’ long struggle to keep his tax returns hidden from Johnny Law, and the secrets he’s clutched for so long in those tiny, inadequate fingers are already snug n’ warm in the lovin’ arms of the Manhattan District Attorney’s office, can’t wait to see what happens next. (By the way, if you feel like leaking that shit, Cy, nobody would ever suspect the shart joke/luchador mask blogger guy. Just sayin’.)

So, President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster spends half a decade assaulting America with an incessant deluge of hate-infused disinformation, breaking millions of minds and tearing the country apart, perhaps irreparably, and Senate Republicans reward him with a Get Out of One Beer Hall Putsch Free card, but suddenly Neera Tanden’s mean tweets render her unfit for public service. Got it.

It was particularly amusing, watching Foghorn Crotchrash, excuse me, “Senator John Neely Kennedy,” theatrically brandishing the flail of shame one minute, then turning straight around to giddily dispense his own nasty one-liners to the first reporter to walk by. You know, I’m starting to think there might be an inconsistency or two in the right-wing ethics system.

Marjorie Taylor Greene has been reduced to morosely gnawing on pickled bath salts of late, because while her own party’s refusal to discipline her for her unapologetic calls to assassinate political opponents was national news for a few days, now that she’s been stripped of her committee assignments, she’s not that much more interesting than your average public transit poo-flinger. And so, like the toddler every Trumpist is at heart, she threw an attention-seeking tantrum, in the form of a series of anti-transgender hate crimes.

You watch this woman spew her hatred, and you see the pride she takes in that hatred, and you go, “oh yeah, that’s straight Hitler shit right there,” because it fucking well IS. Ah, but then you watch the entire House GOP fall in line behind her, backing up her silly procedural time-waster, and implicitly, (though they’ll deny it) every word of her vile diatribe. Say what you will about Marjorie, she understands how quickly and docilely these men fall in line behind a bigot with a bullhorn.

Greene then punctuated her rage fit by posting a placard proudly proclaiming her bigotry and ignorance directly across the hall from the office of Congresswoman Marie Newman, who has a transgender child, because the Republican base doesn’t want laws from their lawmakers, just gaudy displays of public shittiness.

Rand Paul wanted in on that action, using Dr. Rachel Levine’s confirmation hearing to casually launch into his own snide anti-trans harangue, indistinguishable from anything you’d find on Stormfront. Dr. Levine, as you know, is the nation’s first transgender nominee for a Senate-confirmed post, and that Rand felt so untouchable atop his high horse of hate as to spit that bile right in her face, in front of the whole world...let’s just say if you still need lessons in the banality of evil, “Dr.” Paul isn’t going anywhere.

Postmaster General Louis DeJoy, one of the residual Ortsgruppenleiter still stubbornly clinging to the sides of the bowl, squeaked out some whimperingly defiant boast about how we need to “get used to (him),” as though we’re supposed to simply shrug and mournfully abandon the United States Postal Service to his sabotage. Anyway, the shrill yipping sound seems to have reminded the Biden people to finally get around to nominating those new board governors, so they can, in turn, fire DeJoy’s sorry Peter Pettigrew ass. Lookin’ forward to that one, won’t lie.

So now DeJoy gets to keep on wrecking shit while the axe falls with the speed of bureaucratic delirium. Kafka was a fucking amateur.

A newly declassified report reveals the Treasonweasel Administration knew all along that MBS ordered the assassination of Jamal Khashoggi, but, hey, when you’ve got debts like the Trumps and the Kushners, silly things like “human rights” don’t factor into your “diplomatic” interactions with Saudi crime lords, do they?

In other news, Mitch McConnell is a cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I don’t think I mentioned it here, but you may remember last fall, South Dakota’s Attorney General, a mega-skeevy bag of dicks and sludge called Jason Ravnsborg, killed a pedestrian in a hit and run, fled the scene, and claimed he thought he hit a deer...until the body turned up. Turns out that law enforcement not only found the victim’s glasses inside Ravnsborg’s car, (“the deer was reading Infinite Jest, your honor”) but that he was actually browsing wingnut propaganda sites on his phone, while driving at night, very probably at the precise moment his vehicle fatally collided with another human being. Ravnsborg has yet to resign in shame, probably because he realizes the fresh blood on his resumé only recommends him for higher office within the Grand Ol’ Death Cult.

(Hey Republicans, take five from hating Joe Biden’s dogs, we need you to hate Mr. Potato Head for a minute. And like, at least twice as hard as you were hatin’ on them dogs. Yes, I know that story fell apart immediately; I fucking told you to HATE MR. POTATO HEAD GODDAMMIT also we may need you to send death threats to the Muppets, please stand by.)

Well, the annual convocation of shitpile flies called CPAC is underway, and honestly, everyone seems relieved they can finally stop pretending they read the Weekly Standard (or, y’know, anything) and skip straight to the worship of the literal golden idol someone helpfully brought along in case this shit was somehow still too subtle for anyone.

Yeah, it’s the weekend when the nation’s frothiest maniacs get together to screech at one another, and this year is...well, it’s exactly what you’d expect it be, now that these gleeful goose-steppers have had their first real taste of party-sanctioned terrorism. We can argue about how fair it is to point out all the ways the American right has moved towards open fascism and the bloodlust that accompanies it, or we can save time and get straight to work keeping them away from power.

Like, if you really want a trashy listicle documenting the 29 Naziest CPAC Applause Lines, I bet Chris Cillizza has you covered, but in the interest of mental health and self-respect, let’s all agree to crack a beer and enjoy our weekend instead.

The deranged dirtbag deification feels particularly obscene in light of the week’s grisly milestone, but yes, Cult45 remains slavishly devoted to a poorly dressed game show host who, from a combination of almost incomprehensible incompetence and raw, blazing spite, got half a million of their countrymen killed. I mention this on behalf of any ambitious species looking to take over the top spot on the food chain; I really don’t think us Homo sapiens can hack it.

Ok, that’s about all I have in me tonight, friends. I gotta swing by the crossroads to drive a stake through the heart of this hell-sent motherfucking month. Probably missed some stuff, this week has been a bit rough on ol’ Cap. The coming thaw’ll do me good. Stay safe out there, Resisters. 

Sewage Dunk Tank With Ted Cruz Week is the Best Week (F/SC)

Well, I don’t know about y’all, but I was just thinking that after an entire year of soul-crushing quarantine, what I really needed was a prolonged period of even more intense isolation, ideally brought about by an extreme weather event, because my life wasn’t quite enough like a 10th grade creative writing assignment composed by a kid who’s really into Edgar Allan Poe and The Cure for my liking. However, now that I’ve ordered several axes and hatchets of varying sizes off Amazon, I feel much better. Come closer, my friend, let us discuss the news...

(And yeah, color n’ links here: http://showercapblog.com/sewage-dunk-tank-with-ted-cruz-week-is-the-best-week/)

As expected, the Senate GOP rejected the gift-wrapped opportunity to purge their party of the fascist cancer they allowed to spread, unchecked, until their official logo morphed into an oozing, vaguely elephant-shaped tumor. They’ve been pretty smug about the whole thing, in a “you can’t MAKE me obey my oath, I’M in a CULT” sort of way, gloating over their little “you can’t impeach a former President for Very Serious Constitutional Reasons No I Won’t Show My Work” copout, so congratulations, I guess, on weaseling your way through another news cycle or two, but your party remains a radicalized, conspiracy-addled clump of increasingly violent losers, and considering your Neville Chamberlain Handbook has yielded predictable results at every turn, it would be really cool if you tried something different (may I recommend courage?) before the Civil War gets a sequel.

Still, the final vote was the most bipartisan in American history, and that ain’t nothin’. Seven Republicans voted to convict...pretty impressive, honestly. A testament to the excellent work of the House impeachment managers.

...but then Mitch McConnell decided that what the moment cried out for was a Mitch McConnell speech, an error he’s made with alarming frequency over the course of his insidious career. So, in the immediate aftermath of his feckless caucus’ latest refusal to defend the nation, Yertle delivered his jeremiad, on the topic of how Hairplug Himmler was indeed guilty of everything he stood accused of, while the entire fucking world screamed in perfect unison BITCH YOU JUST VOTED TO ACQUIT HIM.

Now, I’ve learned to tune Mitch’s sanctimony out, but this one was a bit hard to sit through. That mob that nearly tore you limb from limb? You built that, bro. Donald Trump never comes to power without Mitch McConnell first breaking Washington with the nefarious politics of Deliberately Inflicting Suffering on the American People Rather Than Allowing the Other Party to Help Them.

And now that he’s got his judges and his robber baron tax cuts, Wrinkly Gamera is ready to move on, as though his years of cynical, transactional enabling haven’t unleashed an army of frenzied brownshirts the rest of us have to deal with every goddamn day in our communities. Mr. Minority Leader, you of all men are not allowed to appropriate Resistance culture.

Of course the seven Republican Senators who took those first halting steps out of the primordial swamp of Trumpism (give ‘em a few hundred million years, they may evolve spines, and even walk erect) faced all kinds of arcane pagan excommunication rituals initiated by their home state parties.

Bonus points to whichever local MAGA archbishop anathematized Pat Toomey, for the demented honesty of his proclamation that “we did not send him there to do the right thing or whatever;” I think it’s useful to be frank about where everyone stands, though I’m unsure why you believe a Senator’s primary function is to help the world’s shittiest businessman commit crimes.

And did you see that fucking letter Adam Kinzinger got from his Blood Type KKKool-Aid family? Holy shit. I keep hearing about how much REALER than me these people are, that their experience is somehow more authentically American than mine, that their beliefs are nobler, purer, just flat-out bald eaglier than mine, but what they’re doing here is like if somebody in, say, October of 2001, got all up in your shit and started shrieking at you for refusing to take Bin Laden’s side.

Oh Adam, why can’t you be a dutiful death cult company man like Ron Johnson? RoJo doesn’t understand why everybody’s making such a big deal about that silly “Capitol riot,” why, that white supremacist lynch mob was barely even armed!

That’s a solid little gaslight from our Ron-Ron, actually. One hundred and forty law enforcement officers injured protecting YOUR plutocrat ass, one killed, two took their own lives, the whole ever-loving world has seen the video of YOUR party’s base crushing that dude in that door, (to say nothing of all the guns and bombs that were confiscated from that flock of walking rectums) and the move is “I can’t believe you’re still mad about the right-wing terrorist attack on Congress, are you some kind of sissy?”

...can I get a Blue Lives Matter chant goin’?

Florida Governor Ron DeSantis threatened to withhold the coronavirus vaccine from any uppity constituents with the temerity to question his murderous mismanagement, because when you elect Republicans, you don’t get government, you get cut-rate, strip mall warlords dispensing essential resources to cronies while anyone too poor to pay the bribe goes without. More on that momentarily.

I see Rush Limbaugh finally got around to holding up his end of that bargain he made at the crossroads on the Koch estate where the family hunts box chain retail workers for sport. What an abominable life.

As we marked his passing the way it deserved to be marked, with unapologetic, indeed deafening condemnation of his heinous life’s work, a handful of wingnut media elites half-heartedly waggled the finger of shame at us, as though we aren’t all standing in the wreckage of Limbaugh’s wettest dream made real. As though we will ever let them lecture us about anything ever again.

Anyway, Rush Limbaugh was a broken human being, and tragically, he never sought healing, he just wanted to break other people in the same fashion; even more tragically, he was really good at that. He’s dead now, mourned only by those whose souls he successfully warped with the poison of his boundless hatred. Would that he had never been born.

So, this week, Texas got a lethal lesson in the perils of actually allowing the gang of oligarchs and lunatics that make up the modern Republican Party to run your society.

You see, in the holy name of Freedumb and Makin’ Rich Folks Richer, the state’s energy grid was not only caught, pants-around-ankles, balls-deep-in-a-sheep unprepared for the winter storm that hit, but the system turned out to be completely independent, (to keep the deep state from regulating away so much as a nickel from the benevolent oil tycoon overlords, you see) so when the shit hit the fan and people started dying, it was literally impossible for the rest of the country to step in and help. That’s the system they set up. On purpose.

Now, after four years under Donald Trump’s autocrat thug learning tree, Texas Republicans know how to handle a catastrophe of their own making, and they sprang into action with impressive speed. No, not to fix the problem, are you fucking high? They leapt like greased lightning...straight onto cable news, pinning their failures on a predictable mishmash of time-tested gibberish buzzwords: Wind Turbines! Green New Deal! AOC WANTS TO REPLACE YOUR LIGHT BULBS WITH VEGAN CANCEL CULTUUUUUUUUUUURE!!!!!

But while Governor Greg Abbott busied himself manufacturing ass-covering propaganda, millions suffered for his folly. We’re talking about people without heat in below freezing temperatures. People without drinkable water. In the United States of America. In 2021. Shit like this should not be possible in a nation this advanced and prosperous. But the modern Republican Party exists solely to funnel wealth to their donor class, and if that means periodically setting a few million folks’ standard of living back a century or two, so fucking be it.

One Texas mayor threw a truly majestic wingnut shitfit, incensed that the peasants would dare claim the right to any indoor plumbing they hadn’t hunted and killed personally, and frankly, if you haven’t already chopped grandma up for firewood, you deserve to fucking freeze to death.

I see people who are this far gone, this hopelessly perverted by right-wing culture, and I just want to ask, what does this DO for you? What do you get out of it, beyond an inescapable rage that ruins your every waking moment, and the accompanying inability to exist peacefully in society? The latest version of the Contract with America reads simply, “we will take this great nation from superpower to shithole, but don’t worry, we’ll feed you a never-ending supply of made-up bullshit to be scared of.” I just don’t get it.

And speaking of not getting it...Ted Cruz, hot off his smash hit appearance before the rabid mob that attempted to murder his colleagues, looked out upon the crisis besieging the people he is literally paid to serve, and saw in it an apparently irresistible opportunity to drive a steamroller over his own ballsack, repeatedly, for what felt like nineteen months.

It’s the simplicity of the scandal that makes it so devastating: while Texans froze to death, Senator Cruz figured that sticking around to help would be annoying, so he whisked his family off to an expensive getaway in beautiful Cancún, Mexico, to ride out those irritating days when he would otherwise be inundated with calls from the plebs, begging for their worthless lives.

Poor Tedward forgot he doesn’t have a certain Velveeta Vulgarian’s scandal-cannon Twitter feed to change the subject and bail him out anymore. Far from it, Thursday was one of the slowest news days in a good long while, and there was little else to do but watch him step, with miraculous precision, on every single rake in the known universe, one after the other.

The Shittier of the Senate’s Rafaels* started by throwing his own children under the bus, (say hi to mom and grandpa, kids!) only to get swiftly ensnared in a lie there, so he shit on his own family for nothing, demonstrating the masterful communication and decision-making skills of the future President he somehow sees in the mirror every morning, squinting insincerely behind that shitty, shitty beard.

Somebody even leaked his wife’s group texts to the press, blowing to smithereens any hope of a politically acceptable cover story, which is the sort of thing one simply has to  learn to live with, when one is among the vilest human beings alive.

Seems Ted commandeered Houston PD officers to escort his feudal lord ass through the airport, which is fine, not like they had anything else to do. If you weren’t already boiling with rage at this pompous elitist’s disdain for the people who pay his salary, CNN published this helpful article documenting all the various times he unleashed that aggravating faux preacher’s lilt of his on...politicians who went on vacation during crises. Fuckhead couldn’t even navigate a couple of softball TV interviews without digging himself a couple miles deeper.   

Oh, and the whole time, Beto O’Rourke kept working his ass off, doing the very job Ted was so desperate to flee.

Basically, all Ted Cruz’s dreams died this week, and he responded by just rubbing shit all over his face, for like, hours and hours and hours. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

As funny as Ted’s troubles are, I don’t want to move on from the Texas story without taking the following dump in your cornflakes: America in 2021 is a nation that requires fact-checking outlets to debunk the claim that President Biden used his magical weather controlling powers to inflict the devastating winter storm on the Lone Star State, presumably as punishment for resisting his satan worshipping and child trafficking and what have you. Sleep tight.

(Anyway, Texas should definitely secede, you’ll do great, you’re certainly nothing at all like the child who runs away from home only to crawl into a sewer chasing after the very first clown that beckons.)

Meanwhile, the Biden Administration keeps pulling all this weird, weird crap...it’s almost like they’re wielding the power of the executive branch to help people, and to make America stronger, what the shit is that about?

There’s a big immigration reform bill, for starters, not to mention the jettisoning of the last fella’s Pay Me or Eat Shit Doctrine on the foreign policy front. We’re back in the Paris climate agreement, y’all! Back in the international battle against COVID-19! Strengthening NATO rather than dismantling it in a vain attempt to get Putin to return our text messages! If Smilin’ Joe hasn’t said, “There’s a new sheriff town!” out loud at least half a dozen times by now, I admire his restraint.

And oh yeah, that $1.9 trillion coronavirus stimulus bill just keeps chuggin’ along, workin’ its way through the reconciliation process, stopping periodically to wave at Senate Republicans, seething on the sidelines that their bad faith delaying tactics no longer work.

Ok, that’s enough, I think. Sorry to interrupt, I know you were busy laughing at Ted Cruz, so I’ll let you get back to that. Stay safe out there, friends.

*This gag works out loud, I swear it does. 

Golly, You Need a Lot of Synonyms For "Cowardice" To Blog About Republicans During Impeachment

How’s everybody enjoying the new normal? It’s...slightly more relaxing, anyway. Slightly. Like, sure, we’re still clinging to a tiny slab of rock in the middle of a live volcano, but there’s tea now. And little triangle-shaped cucumber sandwiches. Quitcher bitchin’.

(Git this madness in living color, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/golly-you-sure-do-need-a-lot-of-synonyms-for-cowardice-to-blog-about-republicans-during-impeachment/)

So, ok. We’re all trying to figure out how to move forward from four years of increasingly totalitarian misrule that ultimately culminated in an extremely stupid, yes, but also violent attempt by loser terrorists to overthrow the government on behalf of that fellow with the strange baby hands. Anyhoo, top of the ol’ to-do list would have to be, hey, what are we gonna do with this millions-strong hate mob that wants to murder the rest of us?

Well, if you’re a recently deposed conman/thug, looking to make up for the sudden disappearance of the Secret Service piss allowance from the family budget, the first thing you do is you BILK THEM RUBES ONE MORE TIME.

Like any self-respecting cult, the Children of the Candy Corn aren’t gonna let the MAGA rapture’s stubborn refusal to materialize dissuade them from their daffy belief system; while obviously January 6th failed to bring about the ascension of the Turd Emperor in all his skidmarked glory, surely that’s only because somebody made a rounding error someplace. Make perfect sense, really, since nobody involved is any good at math. Or anything, really.   

So some Q grand wizard vomited up a bowl of Alpha-Bits after a night of binge-drinking aftershave, and claimed that once they mixed with the wad of pubes in the corner of the Applebee’s men’s room he discovered the message that Assclown Easter is actually set for March 4th, no, for real this time, though keep the second week in June open, just in case, anyway, wear something tactical and slutty.

And then, and this is perhaps the DonaldTrumpiest thing ever, the skeezy old creep actually made time, during this period when he’s sinking into a pit of legal sewage right up to his pinched butthole mouth, to jack up the prices at his tacky-ass D.C. hotel around that date, lookin’ to bleed the bumpkins dry before they take another pass at killing people until he’s President again, I guess. And that’s the circle of life, Simba.

But yeah, we’re havin’ ourselves another impeachment trial, (hope you got your card punched, 10th one’s free!) which so many in the smug n’ cynical pundit class have sneeringly dismissed as political theatre. And ok, maybe it is, but you have to at least admire the innovations to the form. I mean, what does “political theatre” even look like when we disagree on the most basic contours of reality? It’s like Act I was by Arthur Miller, but after a piss and a smoke you sit back down and the curtain comes up on six naked people force-feeding pancakes to dachshunds and the program says it was written by a grad student who’s really into post-punk, Ionesco and libertarianism.

The House impeachment managers were just flat-out impressive as hell. And yeah, it helps to have such an open-and-shut, you’d-have-to-be-either-an-active-collaborator-or-completely-cowed-into-submission by-the-pitchfork-wielding-mob-your-party-became-on-your-watch-to-deny-this-shit case. But they did their damn homework. The argument was clear, thorough, incisive, and packaged in a narrative of righteous indignation, of an America nearly betrayed into tyranny, almost as if somebody asked Jimmy Stewart and Frank Capra what they thought of this shit.

They showed Mitt Romney just how close he came that day to making some new friends to talk about car elevators with, and also that he owes his life to a legit American hero, and how any Republican Senator can bear to exist in the same room as Officer Eugene Goodman without falling to the ground and begging his forgiveness escapes me.

Of course, you can lead a Republican to objective reality, but you can’t make him pull his head out of Donald Trump’s ass. From self-satisfied doodling to outright playing hooky, they’re essentially taunting us with their spinelessness, which is not the impressive look they believe it to be.

I’m almost cringing too hard to document all of the week’s Republican groveling. It’s like God shouted, “Siri, show me the most extreme depths of human cowardice” into His iPhone. If you print this out, be sure to use the most pisslike yellow ink you can find.

Of course, it’s not fair of me to expect courage from these people. Refusing to stand up to Donald Trump was a test you had to fail all over again every single day, and after four years, they’re little more than whipped dogs. We unlocked the fence and swung it wide open, but these docile pets are no longer even capable of survival on their own.

But for a few hours, anyway, they weren’t able to hide from the truth.

See, Donald Trump figured he could cling to power if only he could raise an army of shitsack white boy terrorists, and use them to kill you. And when this cornered-rat plan succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, he planted his ass in front of the television and cheered it on. He REFUSED TO SEND HELP BECAUSE HE WAS HOPING HIS MOB WOULD EXECUTE YOU.

That happened. To you. That’s a thing this man did to you. He tried to have you killed, as an acceptable and not remotely regretted side effect of his plan to seize power forever. So, he was trying to simultaneously end American democracy, and, again, MURDER YOU PERSONALLY. Every patriotic American has spent the last month trembling in fury at the obscenity of this putsch, lacking your personal stake in the matter and STILL you do his bidding, and sit obediently back on your haunches, waiting for a treat you know will never come.

And these clowns congratulate themselves on their clever little constitutionality copout, as though this communicates to anyone, left, right, or center, anything except I AM TOO TERRIFIED OF THE FORCES I’VE UNLEASHED TO EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING THE RIGHT THING PLEASE MOM I CAN’T GO TO SCHOOL TODAY THERE’S A TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEST. Marco Rubio think’s he’s actually fooling people with this shit, and it’s freakin’ adorable.

Utah’s Mike Lee suggested Tangerine Idi Amin deserves a “mulligan,” forgetting that his Kraven Koward Kaucus already burned their Get Out of Treason Free card on the Ukraine affair, and also that he was saying extremely stupid shit on live TV.

Lindsey Graham, unwilling as ever to be out-viled, not only attempted to blame Speaker Pelosi for the gaggle of Republican maniacs who sought her assassination, but even went one abhorrent step further, pointing his scumfuck finger at the very Capitol law enforcement officers that sustained 140 casualties laying their lives on the line to protect his treacherous, gaslighting ass.

...and Tommy Tuberville, well...look. I need a reporter to grill this man, on the record, to demonstrate to the world that he can tell the difference between his own ass and a hole in the ground. Simple pointing will do, but we have a right to know.

The defense has been...oof. In fairness, we’re talking about a team of Better Call Saul rejects that one apparently doesn’t contact until one has already blazed past Giuliani, Dershowitz, Powell and Lin Wood, but still...OOOOOOF. Their meth country clown show quickly became so embarrassing, Senators Graham, Cruz and Lee (you may recognize those three from their televised roles as “jurors in the trial”) sat ‘em down to spoon-feed ‘em the precise disingenuous horseshit they needed to regurgitate to help the GOP spin their imminent betrayal of oaths and whatnot. Drain that swamp, kids!

While acquittal seems certain in this environment, where half the jury shares a bunkhouse in his lower intestine, Gameshow Göring now faces a shiny new criminal investigation in Georgia, over the less-sensational-but-equally-seditious aspects of his coup attempt. Maybe he’ll wind up serving most of his life sentence in New York, but wintering in Reidsville.

Wealth may not trickle down, but y’know what does? BAT GUANO, drip drip dripping from the Velveeta Vulgarian’s carbuncled ass directly into every rank-and-file Republican brain until we’re stuck dealing with some sort of fecal grifter hive mind. Take Michigan Senate Majority Leader Mike Shirkey, proudly spreading widely-debunked conspiracy theories that the Capitol rioters were secret antifa ninjas who cleverly disguised themselves as Trump supporters, to sully the good name of the (checks notes) white supremacist death cult.

Taking a page from the Marjorie Taylor Greene playbook, Shirkey offered just enough of a feeble, half-assed apology to get the reporters off his back, and then promptly turned the bullshit fountain back up to 11. Expect to see that particular maneuver a lot in days to come.

I see the odious Josh Mandel is looking to ride Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s shitty, blood-strained, and yes, electorally humiliated coattails to a political comeback, launching his campaign for Rob Portman’s Senate seat with an invocation of the Dotard so sycophantic, Matt Gaetz was up all night shedding envious tears while ferociously journaling.

Evan McMullin got a bunch of his old friends, the handful of remaining Republicans possessing a teeny bit of residual humanity, together for a Zoom chat, to talk about maybe kinda sorta putting together a third party, where you can cut rich folks’ taxes and starve poor kids without the overtly fashy bits. Good luck, I guess.

On the other end of the right-wing spectrum, Frozen Fish Heir/Mouth of Sauron Tucker Carlson apparently finds it restricting to be confined to just one Big Lie. As he went about his nightly work, taking his eagerly brainwashed followers by the hand and leading them, step by step, ever further from reality, Liar Tuck dropped, with a ghastly casualness, a brand new, wildly insidious fabrication, that George Floyd died, not from Derek Chauvin’s knee on his neck, but of a drug overdose.

...because, why not, really? Everyone knows what Tucker Carlson is for: he’s there to tell frightened, angry white folks it’s okay to hate the people they want to hate. And if the Lügenpresse calls out ze falsehood, well that’s just further proof they’re the Enemy of the People™️ and maybe the next mob should swing by CNN or the Post, right?

...and Mike Lee wants a mulligan.

We can’t unite with you folks right now. You’re sick. I’ve seen enough (commercials for) zombie shows to understand what happens if we let y’all into the compound. We’re already used to social distancing, so y’all work out your disinformation/authoritarianism/white nationalism/terrorist violence problem, and maybe in a couple years we can all get together and rename some post offices.

Incidentally, it feels GREAT, here on the right side of history. You’re welcome to join us on the side without Nazis anytime you like, but unity? Nosirreebob.

I see Nikki Haley’s still playing ideological Twister, jockeying for position ahead of the 2024 GOP presidential primary, and I am missing something here, or could we save a whole lotta column inches by simply admitting that a woman of color seeking to lead a white supremacist death cult is rather obviously wasting her time?

Ok. Nothing to do now but wait for the Senate GOP to blanket the nation with another six or seven feet of shame, I suppose. I really hate having to dig my car out from under that shit, it smells like hypocrisy and brackish Ovaltine. Stay safe out there, my friends.

PS - Late-breaking news reveals Kevin McCarthy ate even more of Donnie One-Term’s shit than previously reported. My God, what a fucking worm. 

Marjorie Taylor Greene, Jenny Cudd, and Mike Lindell? Man, Fuck the News. (F/SC)

If I can borrow a gag, life in the United States these days is like, having finally been liberated from the face-eating tyranny of the Leopards Eating People’s Faces Party, millions of folks started throwing tantrums because their own faces remained uneaten, and further demanded hefty government investments into research to discover precisely what sorts of flavoring leopards find most enjoyable so they can season their cheeks and foreheads accordingly. People are fucking nuts, is what I’m saying.

(Links? Color? A gateway to a whole new fuckin’ world? You got it: http://showercapblog.com/marjorie-taylor-greene-jenny-cudd-and-mike-lindell-man-fuck-the-news/)

I see the vanquished Velveeta Vulgarian lost his already fungus-scraped-from-the-bottom-of-a-barrel-that-stores-yak-turds-for-some-reason legal team, because he demanded they base their case around the very same Big Lie that drew a flock of homicidal assclowns to D.C. to slaughter his enemies in the first place. Their replacements are even shittier, of course, which honestly impresses the fuck out of me.

Anyway, we’re at this really fun, really healthy-for-democracy place where the defendant in the upcoming impeachment trial 100% did everything he’s accused of, on camera in most instances, and even though he looks like he won’t be able to mount a middle-school-production-of-12-Angry-Men-worthy legal defense, Senate Republicans will let him off the hook anyway, on account of how they’re all in a fascist death cult together. So that’s not great.

Another really interesting thing conservatives are up to lately is mocking Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez for publicly discussing the trauma of having a white supremacist hate mob sicced on you by your colleagues. Interesting in a “well, that’s...sociopathic...and very nearly inhuman” kind of way. And while I appreciate all this fresh insight into How Hitler Happened, it would also be really cool if Republicans would, y’know, cut this shit out before further blood is spilled.

Participants in the Stoopid Coo continue workin’ their way through the legal system, like so many undigested circus peanuts sliding down a colon. I’m always happy to see more Proud Boys behind bars, because I dunno, I’ve just always felt most things’re nicer without Brownshirts around.

If I had to pick, I’d say my favorite January 6th terrorist (collect the trading cards, twelve to a pack with a free stick of bubblegum) would have to be Jenny Cudd, who is not only what would happen if you asked a Zoltar machine to make an entire human being with no personality traits beyond white privilege, but is also somehow actually named JENNY CUDD.

Jenny Cudd joined a terrorist mob that injured 140 law enforcement officers and murdered one, and still had the unmitigated gall (I have yet to witness the mitigated kind, I confess) to ask the judge to let her go on a vacation to Mexico, but not without first making sure everyone knows she regrets nothing, and would totally attempt to overthrow the American government again, given half a chance.

Those rascally access journalists over at Axios got the skinny on one of the whackjob circle jerks that went down during the bunker phase of the fall of the Turd Reich, and ZOUNDS it’s chilling, reading about blathering nutcases like Sidney Powell and Mike Flynn, salivating at the prospect of seizing the powers of the federal government to end American democracy once and for all, knowing the Cornered-Rat-in-Chief would’ve happily given them everything they wanted, if he only could’ve gotten away with it.

(Hey, open letter to anybody who told Donald Trump “no” during the transition: I’d really like to buy you a beer some day.)

After four years of unchecked impunity, it sure is something to watch the propaganda-belching wingnut media recoil like vampires from the burning light of multi-billion dollar lawsuits brought by defamed voting machine companies. The good folks at Smartmatic, apparently displeased at having been made the target of Cult45’s harassment and death threats despite providing election technology to just ONE county in 2020, have all the biggest of the Big Liars in their sights: Powell, Giuliani, Dobbs (more on him in a moment, tee hee), Bartiromo, Pirro, and the whole dang Fux Nooz KKKorporation. Thoughts n’ prayers, assholes.

And the drooling fuckwits over at Newsmax don’t know whether to shit or go blind; on the brink of getting sued out of existence, they found themselves in the awkward position of having their hosts shout down seditious cushion peddler Mike Lindell as he used their airwaves to helpfully pad Dominion’s case against them, because apparently nobody in that office had the basic common sense to just...not book Mike Lindell on TV.

Lindell has a new “movie” out, by the way, and I’m told Louise Linton’s role was tragically left on the cutting room floor, probably to make room for the hilarious THIS IS ALL TRASH PLEASE DON’T SUE US ANY HARDER JUST LET ME KEEP THE AUTOGRAPHED BON JOVI POSTER MY DAD GOT ME FOR MY NINTH BIRTHDAY IT HAS SENTIMENTAL VALUE disclaimer OAN tacked on.

So it appears as though we must once again devote a fair amount of our time together to one Marjorie Taylor Greene, who, you will recall, sprang, fully formed, from a seeping tumor on Donald Trump’s withered ballsack.

Let us begin by stating the obvious. The inescapably, undisputedly true:

Marjorie T. Greene (The “T” stands for “terrorists are my constituents”) is, by virtue of a long history of reprehensible behavior which is not even slightly in dispute, much of which is documented in her own deranged selfie rants, entirely unfit to serve on the staff of a strip mall pretzel stand, let alone in the United States Congress.

She’s a Sandy Hook truther. A Parkland truther. A 9/11 truther. She probably doesn’t believe the Earth revolves around the motherfucking sun. But beyond that, she has repeatedly, proudly called for terrorist violence. On multiple occasions, she has endorsed the assassination of Nancy Pelosi. Oh, and she sexually molested a cardboard cutout of a sloppy old man in an ill-fitting suit, which is just creepy.

And yet somehow the predominant debate in American politics this week (and there’s a fair bit going on, mind) was whether or not this bloodthirsty maniac should be allowed to serve on congressional committees, alongside the very people she has encouraged her followers to murder.

How broken do you have to be to even consider taking her side? It’s like asking “should I gargle battery acid?” It is difficult to imagine an easier moral test to pass, a lower bar to clear. It goes without saying, this was asking far too much of the Republican Party of 2021.

“Stone Cold” Steny Hoyer brought the RECEIPTS, though, so his colleagues across the aisle could no longer hide behind the lame “golly, I was way too busy rescuing kittens from trees to see all that Nazi shit a member of my party said” tactic they’ve grown so fond of, though one almost has to admire the audacity of Tommy Tuberville’s innovative-if-comical attempt to blame his lack of familiarity with basic current events on...the weather. Bless his heart.

Still, Gym Jordan’s out there whinging about “cancel culture”...and like, yeah, we cancel terrorists. Canceling terrorists is a really good thing, actually, it keeps them from killing us. We spend billions canceling ‘em all over the world, and just because these particular terrorists were radicalized by talk show hosts and Senators With Shitty Beards rather than shadowy ethnic boogeymen, doesn’t mean we don’t have the right to protect ourselves from them. No matter the weather, Senator Tuberville.

In the event Republican conference politics weren’t Orwell-by-way-of-Eli-Roth enough for you already, the MTG debate took place simultaneously alongside a Matt Gaetz-led attempt to boot Liz Cheney from her leadership post for putting country before fascist hate mob this one time. Did I say “fascist hate mob?” I’m sorry, I meant “party.*”

While it took the anonymity of a secret ballot to give the cowardly enablers of Kevin McCarthy’s Cop Killer Caucus the safe space necessary to bail out Cheney’s career, they were apparently completely comfortable giving Greene a standing ovation over her half-assed apology for approximately .02% of her crimes against decency, allowing the malicious loon to skip blithely back to her regular regimen of dispensing lies and inciting violence, having manipulated them all like the docile, well-trained drones they are.

In fact, Greene greeted her punishment with unabashed glee, because now that she doesn’t have to do any of that dumb ol’ legislating, (AKA her job) she can just belch up her fascist filth all day long. She’s gambling her constituents won’t notice she’s doing precisely fuckall to solve their problems or improve their lives so long as she provides a steady stream of unhinged social media posts. She’s very likely right.

For the first time I can recall, Former President Crotchrot gave me exactly what I wanted of him: the spectacle of his degradation, finally divorced from the context of Oh Right This Idiot Has the Power to Fuck Up All Life on Earth. I’m speaking, of course, of his sad little you-can’t-fire-me-I-quit letter to SAG-AFTRA. It’s so nice to just point and laugh at the most pathetic man alive as he humiliates himself in public for no discernible reason.

While the new administration is doing all they can to jumpstart the coronavirus response their predecessors neglected in favor of dumbfuck insurrection, they’re hitting a few road bumps, largely because the GOP has gone bath-salt-and-anchovy-pizza insane on the state level.

Wisconsin Republicans repealed Governor Tony Evers’ mask mandate, because I guess after all this time the graveyards just aren’t filling up fast enough for them. In my home state of Kansas, these demented freaks are trying to pass some idiotic ceremonial resolution praising their deposed Turd Emperor for his “work” on the pandemic, which, again, has resulted in more senseless carnage than I ever imagined was possible in my darkest nightmares** when that third-rate goose-stepper first took power.

Allen West wants Texas to secede rather than share a nation with folks who believe in stupid cuck shit like democracy and the rule of law. The Nebraska state GOP censured Ben Sasse, for the high crime of sacrificing only 99% of his reputation (and dignity) at the altar of their Hemorrhoid Messiah.

I didn’t expect the illness of Trumpism to dissipate quickly and harmlessly like a fruit cup fart or anything, but I confess I’m surprised at the length of the line at the Kool-Aid tent, especially now that everyone understands they’re getting a red Solo cup full of rat poison.

Yeah, things’re still pretty nutty, but my heart is warm and toasty, watching the GOP bitch and moan while Dems calmly sidestep their trash-faith stalling tactics on the coronavirus stimulus bill. Joe Biden’s the one with the bully pulpit now, campers, and while I can scarcely believe y’all are so lost in your own bullshit that you can’t see how effortlessly he’s winning this argument, good luck explaining to your constituents why you’re opposed to helping them now after failing them so catastrophically these last four years.

So the big Republican bet this week was pro-QAnon, but anti-pandemic aid. This seems like as good a time as any to resurrect the ol’ VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS catchphrase, because heaven help us if this careening death cult ever seizes power again.

I would like to sum everything up with a nice, incisive concluding paragraph, but Lou Dobbs just got shitcanned by Fux, and I am laughing much too hard to think now. Stay safe out there, Resisters...vaccination is closer than ever!

*Nah, I meant “fascist hate mob.”

**And my subconscious has been shaped by Garth Ennis and Grant Morrison, so I had some rather majestically fucked-up dreams back in the winter of ‘16-‘17. 

Marjorie Taylor Greene Week Leaves Me Longing For Infrastructure Week's Simple Incompetence (F/SC)

I almost hesitate to yank away the warm, fuzzy blanket of Biden-y normalcy, but shit remains deeply cray. In fact, we’re witnessing a disturbing number of (admittedly weak-minded) public officials carefully, deliberately choosing the crayest available options from a buffet well-stocked with sane alternatives, and while I appreciate that cult deprogramming is difficult, just...just give us a fuckin’ break, man.

(You want this shit in color? With all kindsa informative links n’ shit? Click here: http://showercapblog.com/marjorie-taylor-greene-week-leaves-me-longing-for-infrastructure-weeks-simple-incompetence/)

About nineteen seconds after I got last week’s post up, news broke of YET ANOTHER criminal attempt by then-President Gas Station Urinal Cake to overturn the 2020 election and seize power as a dictator. This one involved some cut-rate DoJ stooge bureaucrat* called Jeffrey Clark, and his Gohmertian plot to end American democracy using some idiotic, made-up procedural trick. Like so much of the news from the Transition Period That Would Not Motherfucking Die, that story read like an episode of the West Wing scripted by Tom Clancy with a railroad spike through his brain.

You read this crap, and you realize this shitty little Clark twerp got it into his head that HE was going to be the one to deliver the nation to Donald Trump on a plate, and the new Führer would be grateful, and appoint him Minister of Justice for the entire Thousand Year Reich, and folks, THIS is how it happens here. Because skidmark-souled men like Jeffrey Clark and Mark Meadows and Matt Gaetz and Gym Jordan will happily enable the Turd Emperor’s every crime in exchange for the crumbs of power that dribble from his sphincter-like mouth.

Now, given recent events, you would think the GOP would practically strut down this gift-wrapped, candy-coated, lovingly-dipped-in-nectar-and-ambrosia off-ramp that appeared magically before them. Honestly, it seemed unfair to me, that, having milked that pissant proto-fascist for three Supreme Court justices and a massive tax cut for their oligarch masters, the Republican Party was gifted such a perfect opportunity to wash their hands of him forever. He committed an act of unforgivable treason. They were free to walk away, squeaky clean, righteously indignant even.

But I guess when the moment actually comes, and you’re staring in disbelief at the thrift shop clerk who isn’t willing to go above a buck fifty for your sweaty, mayonnaise-stained death cult robes, it’s hard to let go. Sure, you lost both houses of Congress and the White House, and transformed into an authentic 21st century American Nazi in the process, but remember that summer you spent chanting “lock her up” alongside your fellow rage-warped white mediocrities? It was like Grease, only with less singing and also everybody was a racist loser.

So instead of letting the fever break, the Texas state Republican Party incorporated a QAnon slogan into their official branding. The Hawaiian sub-sect of Cult45 elevated a “comicsgate” creep to the position of vice chairman, only to be caught off guard somehow when he used official party social media accounts to pimp Q trash. In Arizona, Kelli Ward’s band of turd-gargling maniacs censured Cindy McCain, Jeff Flake, and Governor Doug Ducey for the high crime of refusing to help overthrow the United States government for a totalitarian game show host.

Unwilling to be out-crazied, the Oregon GOP proclaimed, via barely-legible feces smears on their meth dealer’s living room wall, that the Capitol riot was a “false flag” operation, designed to make Hairplug Himmler and his Legion of Losers look bad, as though any assistance is required on that particular front.

I suppose it shouldn’t surprise anyone that a party/cult/malodorous wad of freaks so devoted to enshrining bullshit as gospel would also require a few false idols to worship, and Tom Cotton and Madison Cawthorn certainly haven’t been shy about stealing whatever valor is necessary to hoover up the slavering throng’s deranged adulation.

Speaking of MAGA nation’s deplorable role models, child soldier Kyle Rittenhouse has been banned from associating with white supremacists, because even after murdering two human beings, he’s out on bail, partying with white supremacists, yet another perfectly reasonable decision rendered by our not-at-all racist justice system.

I see the vanquished Velveeta Vulgarian briefly toyed with the idea of starting a third party, a No Willards Allowed death cult of his very own, but then he remembered that half the jurors in his pending impeachment trial are members of the party he was attempting to threaten. (The threats will resume promptly after acquittal, of course, but I think we can throw in the towel on the GOP learning that lesson by now.)

Marm-a-Lago is reportedly hemorrhaging members, by the way, because I guess the atmosphere around a toppled tyrant isn’t exactly festive. Yeah, I’m told Eva Braun’s attempts to spruce up the ol’ bunker ultimately went unappreciated, too.

Ted Cruz naturally wants to change the subject from the bloodthirsty white supremacist mob he incited, so he instigated a “Twitter feud” with affable film personality Seth Rogen, sliding effortlessly from agitating for the violent overthrow of the federal government to the mewling victimhood that defines his increasingly embarrassing “brand.” Like, we know Ted aspires to higher office, but seriously, what is his plan to make the public forget that he is literally the most pathetic, bottom-feeding weasel in American politics? Hypnotism?

Look out, Arkansas, Sarah Huckleberry Slanders is back, and she’s bringing her dimestore autocrat incompetence to YOUR Governor’s Mansion! I don’t know what to even say; the contract between a Trumpist politician and their voters runs a little something like, “I will enrich myself while exacerbating every problem that lands on my desk, but in exchange for the measurable decline in your quality of life, I will lie to your face about who’s to blame, allowing you to bury your head in the sweet, soothing sand of resentment,” and honestly, the base seems more than happy with these terms.

So, Rudy Giuliani is apparently getting sued for not only every dime he’s worth, but everything he possesses of any value, down to those precious memories of backseat incest from his bygone youth, back when he could scarcely dream he’d someday wind up as the single slimiest colon polyp in a cancerous fascist invasion of American democracy.

Since the American right refuses to self-regulate, I feel like these Dominion lawsuits might be our best shot at seeing actual consequences for the, y’know, the months-long disinformation campaign that culminated in an armed coup attempt. The Senate somehow lacks the courage to convict Government Cheese Goebbels for whipping up a lynch mob to murder his enemies, but should a precious Corporate Entity become collateral damage to the terrorist fallout of your Big Lie, all mercy will be denied ye.

I’m not saying it’s a good system, I’m saying I want to see Rudy squeezed like a zit, and I’m willing to subscribe to any streaming service that can deliver that shit.

Mitch McConnell finally consented to allow Democrats to run the Senate they won, though I’m sure he still follows the new Majority Leader around all day like a lost puppy, threatening to filibuster Schumer’s second slice of pie or some shit. Chuck earned that pie, Buster, by skipping straight to reconciliation for the big Biden coronavirus stimulus bill. Fool us once, shame on us, won’t get fooled again, fuck you, Yertle, stand in the corner and whine while we help the people you failed, eat shit forever.

Forty-five Republican Senators voted to give themselves a Get Out of This Vote I Don’t Want to Explain to the Electorate Back Home Free card, cuz impeaching a former President is...unconstitutional, yeah, that’s the ticket, everybody knows the founding fathers envisioned the lame duck period as a time when the outgoing incumbent, as a reward for his service, is formally elevated above any and all laws, free to hunt serfs for sport should he so choose. As a treat.

The state of Oklahoma is, hilariously, attempting to return the hydroxychloroquine stockpile they foolishly dropped a couple million bucks on last year. There should be punishment for buying two million dollars’ worth of hydroxychloroquine on Donald Trump’s advice, if only that you’re stuck with two million dollars’ worth of hydroxychloroquine instead of two million dollars. I’m told the Oklahoma attorney general is also kicking himself for throwing out the receipt for those sixty thousand bottles of bleach he bought from Target.

In many ways, this was Marjorie Taylor Greene Week, because it seemed like you couldn’t refresh your feed without discovering some shocking new depth to that loon’s seemingly limitless reservoir of awful behavior. The Vainglorious MTG is a slur-spewing, school-shooting-survivor-harassing wonder of science: with the intellectual capacity of Tommy Tuberville, the casual bigotry of Steve King, and her own unique strain of whatever fungus has been chewing on Alex Jones’ brain, she’s some sort of hideously sewn-together hybrid Republican, and she clearly misinterpreted the old Jews in Space bit as a rather ominous threat.

Ok, the preceding overstuffed paragraph contains Thursday’s Marjorie Taylor Greene news. Take a deep breath, use the restroom, maybe make yourself a snack, because we’re about to move on to Friday’s Marjorie Taylor Greene news.

Like the part where she unleashed so much maskless spittle on a Democratic colleague during a hallway confrontation that Congresswoman Cori Bush has been forced to relocate her office to protect her staff. Or the video Mother Jones unearthed, of MTG calling for terrorist violence (I know, I know, throw it on the pile). Or her demented quest to force Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib to re-take their congressional oaths on Christian bibles, based on one of her many delusions.

Congratulations, Minority Leader McCarthy: this insane Nazi lady is the face of your caucus. Oh. Excuse me, sir, I didn’t mean to disturb you...I just figured since Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot fled Washington in defeat and disgrace, there would no longer be any need for you to orally polish his hemorrhoids, let alone fly all the way to Florida for the opportunity, but...I suppose after four years, you must get to like it down there. Apparently.

See, that’s why it’s REALLY Marjorie Taylor Greene Week, because the institutional Republican Party has gazed upon the roaring-blaze-in-the-dumpster-behind-Mengele’s-place their party has become, and decided, “we should probably put that fire out, sure, but look at how prettily it burns!”

Screw Reagan, skullfuck that race traitor cuck Lincoln, hell, there isn’t room for LIZ FREAKING CHENEY in this tent anymore, non-bathsalt-guzzlers need not apply! To pass the time as I worry about what all this means for the future of my beloved country, I plan on working up a slasher flick pitch where Mitt Romney and Lisa Murkowski have to escape a Panhandle fundraiser for Matt Gaetz, when the donors go savagely insane after ingesting generic Russian meth from the open bar.

But Joe Biden wore a Rolex to his inauguration and he owns a piece of home exercise equipment, so y’know, America’s two political parties exist in a state of perfect ChuckToddian equivalence.

SOME WEEK, HUH? And that’s not even factoring in the stock market madness. But yeah, I think we’re gonna try this once-a-week schedule for now, folks. Might pop up with an extra entry now and then, if the poonami suddenly surges, but we’ll see. Stay safe out there, friends. May your future contain vaccines and adult beverages.

*Or is it “bureaucrat stooge?” I defer to the experts. 

Wait, Not All the News is Soul-Crushingly Horrifying, What the Fuck is Going On? (F/SC)

While shit remains generally cray, it must be said shit is substantially less cray than at any point in recent memory, and with numerous decrayification initiatives already underway, and new ones launching all the time, we may yet live to see the day when shit is merely endearingly eccentric. For now, the news:

(For links n’ color n’ god knows what else, click here: http://showercapblog.com/wait-not-all-the-news-is-soul-crushingly-horrifying-what-the-fuck-is-going-on/)

Well, for the first time in four years, the President of the United States isn’t a resentment-driven bigot manchild with a stale, maggot-chewed raisin for a brain*, and the Vice President isn’t afraid to be alone in a room with a member of a different gender, and malignant cable news pundits are no longer setting federal policy, and I can’t speak for y’all, but personally, I’ve spent the last few days experiencing a degree of exuberant bliss seldom witnessed outside shampoo commercials.

Joe n’ Kamala rolled up their freshly-inaugurated sleeves and got straight to work, cuz the Augean stables ain’t gonna clean themselves, folks. Stephen Miller’s pained shriek shattered windows for miles in every direction as the new administration announced a 100-day pause on most deportations, and the end of Big Stupid Wall construction. New oil and gas leases/drilling permits on U.S. lands and waters have also been paused, and the unceasing fire hose of fascist disinformation has finally, finally been shut off in the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room. This paragraph contains more good news than any six blogs I have written to date.

We’ve rejoined the World Health Organization and the Paris Climate Agreement and I think Luxembourg is willing to receive our diplomats again. Don’t tell Mike Pompeo, I wouldn’t want to interrupt his “swagger” time, when he dresses up in costumes and goose-steps around the backyard.

Reviews have not been universally positive, of course. The novel coronavirus which causes Covid-19 is reportedly incensed that the Biden Administration is rezoning the pandemic’s playground, which before Wednesday stretched, unobstructed, from sea to shining fucking sea. Still, how can you look at the dog-tired-yet-joyful relief on Dr. Fauci’s face and not share his optimism that, after months of a death cult’s mad mismanagement, we’re finally on track to get this shit under control?

Biden’s inaugural speech was lovely and inspiring and unifying, but science has yet to discover any substance or energy 21st century conservatives can’t wring victimhood from, and this was no exception. Joe was all, “White supremacists are bad! Terrorists are bad!” and Republicans were all, “Stop saying mean things about us,” and we went, “A-HA, you’re telling on yourselves,” and honestly, Rand Paul’s probably arguing in caucus meetings that it’d simplify things if they’d all just put on the damn hoods and be done it.

Meanwhile, there is no joy in BrainwashedDipshitRubeville, mighty Q has struck out. Again. Just like literally every single other time that demented loser cult promised anything at all, from mass arrests of child-trafficking liberal satanists to a coupon for a free soft drink with qualifying chalupa purchase. I’m told this experience has been quite traumatic for some of these creeps, to which I say, “Fuck you, when I found out the Easter Bunny was my dad, I got over it in about 40 seconds, and I was five.”

Speaking of the pathetic mewling of vanquished deadbeats, it appears the Proud Boys are throwing their loudest shitfit since Mom announced they’d have to pay for their own Hot Pockets and Capri Suns from now on, because Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot left them to rot in prison while merrily dispensing pardon after pardon for his rich chums.

Golly, what do you do when your Turd Emperor turns out to be just another run-of-the-mill normie cuck? I guess you could try getting a life, but I imagine one doesn’t label oneself a “proud” “boy” unless that particular ship sailed long ago.

Seems the Frothing HateYokel Caucus figures that “two weeks after we incited a white supremacist mob to storm this very building in search of Democrats to murder” is the appropriate moment in time to attempt to smuggle firearms onto the House floor. Look, Congressman Harris, it’s members of YOUR party who stand credibly accused of collaborating with bloodthirsty insurrectionists, so you’re going to need to figure out some way to manage whatever fears you have of Steny Hoyer tackling you without your precious weenie substitute.

Meanwhile, Marjorie Taylor Greene, freshly revealed as both a Sandy Hook AND 9/11 truther, in addition to her previously-disclosed delusions, has embarked on a fool’s quest** to impeach Joe Biden over crimes alleged by the elves that live in the fillings of her teeth. No, I don’t think John Boehner regrets retiring, why do you ask?

Mitch McConnell, never comfortable in the role of lawmaker, returned to his more familiar post as the fossilized mammoth turd obstructing the road to progress. Still, Wrinkly Gamera’s early demand, that Senate Dems unilaterally disarm, and abandon the threat to nuke the filibuster before a single legislative battle has even taken shape, has been rebuffed by shiny new Senate Majority Leader Chuck “I Am Unwilling to Publicly Reveal How Many Fucks I Have Left to Give at This Time” Schumer.

I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus funneled millions of dollars, through shadowy shell companies, to many of the very seditionist turdnozzles who organized the terrorist attack on the Capitol earlier this month. Before long, we’re gonna find out Eric n’ Junior were down in that crowd, passing out meth and zip ties, aren’t we?

And as for Hairplug Himmler, so recently the cancer gnawing away at our minds and our hearts and our souls every motherfucking minute of every goddamn day, well, he’s...gone. Can’t even tweet.

I confess, while I’d long fantasized about the shackles snapping into place around those tiny, inadequate wrists the very moment Smilin’ Joe finished his oath, this is even better; diminished to nigh-nonexistence by his doomed criminal efforts to overturn his landslide defeat, Little Donnie One-Term slunk away to Marm-a-Lago, barely noticed, following an early morning sendoff attended by his loser family and about half a dozen of the clingiest remaining Trumpworld dingleberries, those lacking the brains (or, more likely, the options) to jump off the swiftly sinking Shartanic. Nowhere to hide from the loserstink he emits as though he were comprised of pure, radioactive Losernium. Perfect.

As expected, he issued a final round of largely appalling pardons, really rubbin’ the founding fathers’ noses in the powers they handed him. (In all fairness, boys, while I’m generally a fan of your Constitution, it appears y’all left some shit out.)

He also signed one last executive order, undoing his own earlier EO, establishing lobbying limitations and other ethics rules for his appointees, and god only knows why I’m writing this blog instead of sending Nigerian Prince emails to the drooling marks who actually fell for that “drain the swamp” shit.

So, a lot of folks have been asking what the big change in management means for Shower Cap’s Blog, and...the truth is, I'm not sure.

Trumpism clearly isn’t going anywhere, as the poo-flinging asylum Kevin McCarthy calls his caucus clearly demonstrates, so I imagine I’ll still have plenty to write about, but...maybe not quite as frequently as in the days of the Turd Reich. I kind of assume that as normalcy takes hold of the federal government, the ol’ Cap Signal (just a regular spotlight, but you hold a bottle of MGD in front of it) may sit idle for days at a time.

So maybe these posts will become a little less frequent. Once a week seems likely, but we’ll see how the headlines shake out. I’m gonna play it by ear for now.

Sign up for updates on the main page, follow @CapShower on Twitter, and we’ll figure it out. You certainly haven’t heard the last of me, and hey, just as my latest comic book, MINE, works its way through our poor, beleaguered postal system, work has begun on a new project, which looks to be extra fun for an audience of dedicated Resisters.

More on that soon. For now, stay safe out there, and why not take this weekend to celebrate our victory in the 2020 election for the 842nd time?

*Do maggots eat raisins? Nobody fact-check my shit, okay?

**No other kind is available to her, for obvious reasons. 

The Turd Reich Falls! (...Directly on the MyPillow Guy's Head, Apparently) (F/SC)

Figured I’d give y’all a little somethin’ to read while you’re waiting for the clerk to restock the champagne shelf. (Yer own fault for waiting until the last minute, there was always gonna be a rush) Anyway, the end of America’s first openly fascist presidency is, in my humble opinion, pretty rad. Let’s talk about it.

(If you want this post with color n’ news links, GIT IT: http://showercapblog.com/the-turd-reich-falls-directly-on-the-mypillow-guys-head-apparently/)

I know we were just laughing at Betsy DeVos and Elaine Chao, but they’ve got nothin’ on HHS Secretary Alex Azar and his feeble stab at a Far Far Better Thing moment of his own. Shit, Mel Gibson might just need to make a movie about Alex, such was his valor in submitting that o-so-principled resignation, effective the day his enabling ass was getting fired anyway. What next? Will Ben Carson burst through the doors, twenty minutes into Joe’s first State of the Union, proclaiming he’s Finally Had Enough of Donald Trump’s Lies™️?

Online misinformation about voter fraud in the 2020 election dropped 73% in the aftermath of Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops’ social media ban, and I love everything about that sentence except the part where we gave that dime store dictator a platform to pour his poison into our ears, all goddamn day long, in the first place. Still, sure is fun watchin’ him shrink into nothingness without a stage to bellow from, innit?

I’ve spent much of the past few days cackling to myself over the delectable catch-22 facing President Crotchrot in his upcoming second impeachment trial: nobody but Rudy Giuliani is dumb/crazy/treasonous enough to represent him legally, but Amerikkka’s Mayor can’t take the gig because he’s a witness in the trial, having done his level best on January 6th to incite the assembled Loser Legion to seek “trial by combat.” (Golly, how does Wee Don keep getting into these WACKY predicaments?)

On the other hand, the argument could be made that the public is being cheated out of the spectacle of Trenchmouth McCousinfucker’s planned defense, which was to involve “proving” his widely debunked litany of voter fraud lies, since that went so well the last time he tried it. Not that doing so would provide a legal justification for terrorist insurrection, of course. Like, if you incite a violent mob to storm an Arby’s, the objective tastiness of the curly fries is not a valid excuse for bludgeoning the manager to death with a fire extinguisher. Am I going too fast for anyone?

I’m pleased to report I’m still sickened by the news of the “pardon market” that’s sprung up in these lame duck days of the Turd Reich. Four years of flooding the zone with shit, you gaslighting bastards couldn’t wear out my capacity for outrage at your shameless corruption, though nobody can say you didn’t try really fucking hard. Anyway, you’re about to find out it’s less fun begging for pardons than passing ‘em out like candy.

Meanwhile, the federal prison system continues to swell with the ranks of the blockhead brigade that stormed the Capitol a few days back, in hopes of making Louie Gohmert’s Dumbest Wish come true. That girl who stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop with the intention of selling it to the Russians got arrested. Did I mention the mob contained a girl who stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop with the intention of selling it to the Russians? I don’t think I did. So, this girl stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop, with the intention of selling it to the Russians, but now she’s in jail, with all the other “patriots.”

Of course, now that most of the clowns have been rounded up, we’re starting to see arrests of the scarier, more organized militia types. And with rumors growing of lawmakers begging their Hemorrhoid Emperor for pardons over their roles in this stupid, yes, but inescapably violent coup attempt, I don’t think any of us have screamed our last WHAT THE LIVING FUCK at a breaking news push notification, y’know?

I always knew Lindsey Graham would go down groveling, and hoo boy, he did not disappoint. Bet he sneaks into Melania’s luggage and winds up curled in front of the fireplace down at Marm-a-Lago, hoping everybody just assumes someone else invited him.

I see the Taintmaggot Administration chose their final Martin Luther King Jr. Day in office to release one last wheezing asparagus fart of institutional white supremacy, unveiling the so-called “1776 Report,” a Stephen Miller shitfit poorly disguised as a “rebuttal” to the New York Times’ 1619 Project. Complied by a particularly subpar gaggle of Trumpist mediocrities who, like the Fates of yore, share a single brain cell which they pass between themselves, the report serves, at the very least, as a tidy little debunking of the very notion of white supremacy, because if this tripe is the best y’all can come up with...yikes.

Here in the midst of one of the pandemic’s worst stretches yet, Hairplug Himmler actually tried to lift Covid-related travel bans. Now, there’s no possible logical reason to do this, unless you happened to be a vengeance-crazed septuagenarian toddler looking to add a few final turds to the gargantuan dookie mound you’re already leaving for the next guy, an unlikely scenario, yes, but surely we’ve all been trapped in Shitty Wonderland long enough to expect this sort of thing by now.

Honestly, it seems the lone remaining conservative value (outside of bigotry, of course) is spite. Whether sneaking unqualified loyalist hacks into the federal bureaucracy or implementing mischievous little last-minute regulations, you certainly can’t accuse Team Skidmark of passing up any opportunities for pettiness; I suppose you have to do something to fill the hours you’re not spending fighting the damn coronavirus, right?

We learned freshman Congressfreak Marjorie Taylor Greene’s devotion to wackadoo wingnut conspiracy trash runs even deeper than previously known; she claims the Parkland shooting was a “false flag,” perpetrated by the insidious likes of Nancy Pelosi and Hillary Clinton, to prevent Real Muricans like Marjorie from pouring meth and gunpowder on their morning bowl of Cocoa Puffs. If Kevin McCarthy really wants to keep this skeevy creep in his caucus, give her committee assignments and such, I say PROCEED.

As we reflect on Tangerine Idi Amin’s legacy, here on the eve of his departure, I think it’s important to be truthful. Fair. Balanced. He may not have been any good at managing the economy, or negotiating international agreements, or creating jobs, or building walls, or running casinos, or convincing his own wife to share his bed, but you have to admit, he had a real talent for getting Americans killed. 400,000 Covid deaths in less than a year is, you must admit, an eye-popping achievement. It’s a matter of perspective; he may’ve been the American public’s deadliest enemy in decades, but he’s the best friend a novel coronavirus could hope for.

Of course, the lying lamestream media suppresses the voices of these patriotic viruses, which is certainly a better explanation for the last-minute plunge in Shart Garfunkel’s approval ratings than any intrinsic American distaste for the violent overturning of presidential elections by the dumbest white dudes in all creation.

While I’m optimistic, we all know it’s far from certain the Velveeta Vulgarian will ever face justice for his many crimes, so, as a fallback plan, I’m looking to harvest as much schadenfreuderrific glee as I can from the category 5 shitstorm bearing down on that MyPillow fella’s pudding-filled head.

See, Mike Lindell threw his support, extremely publicly, behind a fascist coup...a week after it failed, and now he can’t figure out why national retail chains no longer want to sell his Nazi loser pillows, because I guess you don’t have to be Sun Tzu to make it big in the bedding game.

Even better, facing the same defamation lawsuit threats that have already sent multiple right-wing media outlets scrambling to issue obsequious retractions, Lindell defiantly, foolishly screeched COME AT ME BRO, and dude, worry not...they will. Coming in 2022: MyPillow, a subsidiary of the Dominion Voting Systems Corporation!

In short, like every single news cycle for the last four-plus years...shit be cray.

...but tonight, this river of monkey crap is washing right over me, because the next time we meet, Shower Captives, Joe Biden will be the President of the United States and Kamala Harris will be the Vice President of the United States, and I feel like I’ve been camped outside Tower Records waiting for this particular album to drop for oh, about four motherfucking years, give or take a century.

After an emotional farewell speech in his home state of Delaware, Smilin’ Joe packed up and headed back to our poor, besieged capital, ready to take power, with an eye on healing, progress, and cleaning up the various mile-high shitpiles left by his disinterested predecessor.

He’ll have help. Just in time, the Secretary of State in Georgia officially certified Ossoff n’ Warnock’s Senate wins, (so the Georgia GOP can move on with planned voter suppression efforts, don’t take your eyes off these fucks for a minute) so Mitch McConnell’s reign ends tomorrow as well. If one can overdose on glee, I’m gonna.

Determined to go out like a loser, Donnie Dotard refuses to attend the inauguration, and he can’t seem to give tickets away for his own going away party. And now begins the phase of his life where every knock on the door might just be law enforcement, come at last to take him away. That’ll be fun. For us, anyway.

I’m sure there’s plenty more last-minute fuckery out there, but y’know what? Tonight, let’s forget all that crap and get good n’ fucked up on HOPE. I haven’t looked forward to a tomorrow like this in...some time, folks. Stay safe out there. 

This Week in Hell: Bad Things Happen to Bad People, FINALLY (And the MyPillow Guy Was There) (F/SC)

It’s fascinating, looking at how folks’ politics evolved and changed over the last four years. Take me, for example: I used to consider myself primarily a gun control voter, but now the only thing I care about is shortening the interminable motherfucking lame duck period. This shit has to stop. I’m worried it won’t. The election was what, 15, 16 months ago? At least? WHY ARE WE STILL HERE?   

(For color n’ links n’ shit, click here: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-bad-things-happen-to-bad-people-finally-and-the-mypillow-guy-was-there/)

Well, Sharty McFly went and got himself impeached again, I see. Wasn’t paying close attention, but I assume it had something to do with the whole “inciting a white nationalist mob to murder my enemies, I can’t lose power, I just can’t, you have no idea what Deutsche Bank’s bill collectors are capable of when your fingers are already tiny and fragile” thing.

(I think I’m supposed to praise the 10 Republicans who voted for impeachment this time, after enabling every other crime and atrocity, but I won’t do that, because I possess both a memory and standards.)

Y’know, for a dude who’s wasted his entire life on an obsessive crusade to prove to his dead, evil father that he’s not a loser...I mean, holy balls did Donnie Dotard ever miss that target. I’ve never seen so much concentrated losing in a such a short period of time, it must be like experiencing 100 years of Cubs baseball condensed into a single crotch punt. Lost the election in slow motion, re-lost it some 60-odd times over in every courtroom in America, and then, just when it looked like he’d still get to slip away to a life of comfort and influence, decided to strap Louie Gohmert’s Worst Idea to his own scrotum and let it drag him balls-first to bottom of the fucking sea, ensuring all the books to come end with a “and then, yeah, he pulled a Hitler,” chapter.

Seriously, if you harbor any ambitions towards being crowned the biggest loser in human history...give up. Seat’s taken.

We’re told Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot finds himself “isolated” in the aftermath of his fascistic blunder and the subsequent avalanche of consequences. Success, they say, has a thousand fathers; a failed fascist coup is an unlovable loser kid with a sphincter for a mouth I can’t stand the fucking sight of him just ship him to military school for Christ’s sake you said you were on the pill, Mary.

After years of watching clowns like Gym Jordan and Matt Gaetz shit themselves screeching about deep state plots to make Donald Trump forget how to pronounce Yosemite, it’s actually quite jarring to hear accusations that would feel similarly at home in a Tom Clancy novel, only from serious people, with legit national security credentials, who wouldn’t make such allegations lightly. People like New Jersey Congresswoman and former Navy helicopter pilot and federal prosecutor Mikie Sherrill.

Sherrill leads a group of more than 30 House Democrats in requesting some dang investigations, because it seems as though some of her unity-seeking colleagues across the proverbial aisle maybe kinda sorta gave some of the January 6th insurrectionist terrorists a reconnaissance pass through the Capitol in the form of a Friendly Ol’ Tour for Th’Folks Back Home, on...January 5th, though such tours have of course been suspended during the pandemic.

Even in an era overflowing with fucked-up shit, that is some FUCKED-UP SHIT. Like, as someone who already believed the House Republican Caucus contains three or four dozen of the very worst people alive, I still never imagined they could collaborate with terrorist seditionists in a plot to violently overthrow the government...but I tell you, friends, you look at the Lauren Boeberts and the Marjorie Taylor Greenes and the Madison Cawthorns and HELL YES you make those creeps go through metal detectors before you let them on the floor.

Because the more we learn about this riot, the scarier this moment in time feels. Like, I’m certainly grateful for the sugar rush that accompanies each Seditious Clod Arrest, if only for spicing up my doomscrolling, but this wasn’t all drooling fuckwits in stupid costumes stealing office furniture; that mob contained trained combatants using military tactics against law enforcement.

So I do believe I’ll take a pass on the unity n’ healing until we’ve worked this stuff out, thanks.

With his world collapsing around him, banks and cities cutting ties with his fascist loser family business, and law enforcement closing in, Hairplug Himmler, bless his rotten, festering heart, still made time to instruct his dwindling inner circle, “hey, nobody pay Rudy!” because fuck the one guy who’s still willing to atomize his reputation for you, right?

Course, now the Shart House is trying to walk that story back, because Giuliani is the closest thing to a lawyer they can find willing to defend Littlefinger at the impeachment trial. Fuck it, he’s gonna outlive us all. When President Tiffany activates the Doomsday Machine after misinterpreting a TikTok, all that’ll survive is roaches and Rudy, stumbling through the charred remains of Four Seasons Total Landscaping, demanding 20 grand a day from the molten dildos.

A new inspector general report says the Crotchmaggot Administration’s “zero tolerance” policy was exactly what it appeared to be: reckless malice perpetrated by gleeful bigots who heaped accidental atrocities on top of the ones they were shooting for intentionally, because they never in their wildest dreams imagined they’d be handed the naked power of the American presidency to wield as white nationalism’s sword, and so they fucked shit up in their fervor to hurt people. Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions was behind it all, because WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU PUT A FUCKING KLANSMAN IN CHARGE OF THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE?!?!?

I guess Princess Ivanka and Jar-Jar got the creepy-crawlies at the thought of the filthy plebs in the Secret Service getting poor person germs all over their beautiful house, which they just paid off with the proceeds of all the state secrets they sold to the Saudis, so they forced the chump American taxpayer to foot the bill for a $3,000-a-month apartment so agents would have a place to pee when they weren’t busy looking out for bullets to take on behalf of their plutocrat betters. Are we absolutely certain we’re doing populism right?

Amidst the chaos and carnage, President-Elect Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. spent the day directing profane social media posts at a television actor he believed had insulted him, JUST KIDDING, he unveiled a big ol’ coronavirus relief proposal. In a curious departure from his predecessor’s tactics, Biden appears to be seeking solutions to problems, rather than loudly denying their existence. We’ll see how this plays out in the tabloids.

Somehow, even after bursting onto the national scene with a humiliating interview that revealed his sub-third-grade grasp of civics, Tommy Tuberville has been too busy (taking calls from would-be autocrats during terrorist sieges, apparently) to crack open the Complete Idiot’s Guide to the United States Constitution, or he’d know the presidential inauguration date is set in stone, and not subject to the passing whims of mediocre football coaches who figured the Senate was as good a place as any for an upwards-failing lunkhead to land.

I see Mike Pants, now that his own party tried to lynch him, finally rang up Kamala Harris to congratulate her on absolutely schooling his craven, bottom-feeding ass. Then he went back to checking around every corner to make sure there wasn’t a mob of his former supporters waiting to murder him, which is how he’ll spend the rest of his shitty, misbegotten life. Hee.

The National Rifle Association announced it will file for bankruptcy, as plummeting donations can no longer keep up with Wayne LaPierre’s extravagant lifestyle. An office liquidation sale will begin Monday morning, if you’d like to pry any lightly-used computer monitors from their cold, dead hands.

So I guess the MyPillow Guy is still trying to overthrow the US government? Yeah, got himself an Oval Office meeting n’ everything, to encourage Gameshow Göring to take one last stab at destroying American democracy, so I figure it’s about 50/50 that Lindell’s Legion of Losers marches on the inauguration, armed with sporks and zip ties and knockoff memory foam, perhaps unaware of the National Guard’s shiny new rules of engagement, and wouldn’t that be a shame?

Well. Kinda light tonight, but that’s enough for now, I suppose. Hey, in a few days, you won’t have to worry about crazed bedding salesmen talking the President into civil war. That’s gonna be pretty sweet. Until then, stay safe out there, Resisters... 

Dear Republicans, Repeat After Me: "Consequences Are Not Kristallnacht." (F/SC)

I confess it’s difficult to write today. I live next door to Vlad Putin, y’see, and he kept me up all night tap-dancing with glee at how easy it was to transform the United States of America from a superpower into a shithole, simply by tossing a few memes at frightened old white people.

(GIT IT with links here: http://showercapblog.com/dear-republicans-repeat-after-me-consequences-are-not-kristallnacht/)

Actually, at the request of the handful of congressional Republicans who’ve spoken at all about the terrorist mob they unleashed, I have decided to move on, in the spirit of unity and healing. Tonight’s blog will feature a series of softball interviews with prominent seditionists: admit it, you’ve always wondered who Mo Brooks’ favorite Golden Girl is.

Just to get this out of the way real quick, we’ve learned Government Cheese Goebbels made yet another desperate phone call, pressuring Georgia election officials to overturn the state’s results, and also that he forced the U.S Attorney for the Northern District of Georgia to resign for refusing to support his insidious voter fraud lies. Yes, I realize that’s two more completely impeachable crimes right there, but such frivolities constitute mere background noise in this age of violent white nationalist insurrection.

Well, I suppose we'd best start piecing together just what the living fuck went down on January 6th. It’s gonna take some time to separate the mere incompetents from the active collaborators, and won’t that be a jolly little process to witness?

It’s certainly been nothing short of terrifying, reading about the Trump Admin officials who dithered and dodged, refusing to dispatch the National Guard, even as a bloodthirsty horde ran wild through the Capitol. Almost as chilling as learning Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot himself just...watched the whole thing play out on the magical talking television box, no doubt cheering the would-be murderers on.

Two Capitol Police officers have been suspended and more than ten are already under investigation for their actions during the coup attempt, ranging from snapping seditious selfies to actively directing the terrorists to their targets. There’s apparently even a Secret Service officer out there, spreading Trump’s poisonous propaganda on social media, which strikes me as a teensy bit disqualifying for a gig with the administration to come. What would be cool is if American law enforcement could use this tragic moment to root out all the motherfucking white supremacists who have infiltrated their ranks.

For now, we’ll have to tide ourselves over with the admittedly bountiful buffet of treasonous shitweasel arrests; I’m sure the memory of those few precious hours of MAGA celebrity will keep ‘em warm through the long lonely nights of their federal prison sentences. For one shining moment, you held a lectern that didn’t belong to you. Cool life, bro.

So it looks as though Lauren Boebert launched her congressional career by using social media during the Capitol siege, against the direct instructions of the House Sergeant at Arms, to deliberately reveal Speaker Pelosi’s whereabouts to the homicidal throng, y’know, so it’d be easier to find her and execute her. Just a little perspective, for anybody out there who feels like they have weird tension with people at work.

Anyway, we’ve got shiny new metal detectors set up outside the House chamber now, to protect Democrats from the likes of Boebert, who has repeatedly vowed to illegally bring her gun to work with her, and the other QAnon loons in her caucus. Suddenly I find myself whimsically nostalgic for the bygone days of civility when the manic Republican outlier was the guy who couldn’t sit through a Black President’s speech without screaming at him.

Sadly, we’ve learned The Legend of the Loser Terrorist Who Tased Himself in the Scrotum So Hard He Died proved to be just that, a legend. To which I say, fuck all y’all, if you nutcases are allowed to believe fake shit (like, for example, that Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops is “the most masculine person to ever hold the White House”), I’m allowed to believe this, and in fact, I’m building my entire personal religion around it; we’re gonna have communion wafers in the shape of a doughy middle-aged man electrocuting his own ballsack.

The Velveeta Vulgarian petulantly refused to lower flags on federal buildings to half-staff in honor of the police officer he got killed, for four fucking days. But when wingnut financier Sheldon Adelson finally kicked the bucket? That statement, overflowing with the sort of glowing praise Eric and Don, Jr. can only dream of, hit the wire at the speed of light.

Three Democratic Congressmen (so far) have tested positive for COVID-19 after several Republicans mockingly refused all requests to wear masks during the siege lockdown. (thousands still dying every day, thanks for asking) In the spirit of unity, Minority Leader McCarthy has proposed a rule change where members of his caucus would commit to restricting themselves to one attempt to murder their Dem colleagues at a time.

From the folks who never quite managed to bring you Infrastructure Week, it’s CONSEQUENCES WEEK! Corporations are not only shutting down the coup enablers’ access to the money spigot, they’re even demanding refunds for previous donations. Harvard booted Trumpal Butt Remora Elise Stefanik from their advisory board. From coast to coast, hometown papers and local leaders are calling for the Cop Killer Caucus’ resignations. Keep the heat on, Resisters, and who knows? Maybe we can chase a few of the rats back to the shadows.

Heck, Rudy Giuliani’s a regular cousin-fucking consequences magnet these days. The New York State Bar Association is working to expel him, he’s been referred for disbarment, and the Treasury Department is cracking down on his crooked foreign partners. Congrats, Rudy...may all your future biographies be printed in liquid shit.

All of this comeuppance has, of course, led to a wave of reflection and contrition among Trump-supporting Republicans, assuming “reflection” and “contrition” are synonyms for “whining.” There is truly no amount of blood that can drown the 21st-century conservative impulse to claim victimhood, even when they’ve got their boot on somebody else’s neck.

These shameless jagoffs are actually trying to change the subject from the inevitable fruits of their deliberate, years-long stochastic terror campaign to their alleged oppression online. Several actually invoked Kristallnacht to describe their plight, which is so stomach-churningly vulgar, I can’t even joke about it.

Just to clear things up: the President lost his social media accounts because he used them to incite a sweaty, malodorous wad of losers to ooze down the street and kill his enemies for him. Parler got taken down because terrorists were using it to organize terrorist violence. Whatever point in the great wide universe is mathematically farthest from legitimate victimhood is where y’all are standing right now. At long last, just SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Meanwhile, the deeply pathetic new Shart House tradition of awarding the Presidential Medal of Freedom behind closed doors, lest the world witness the shame of all involved, continued. Gym Jordan, unsurprisingly, was only too willing to accept his blood-soaked accolade, but apparently they’ve gone too far for Bill Belichick, which means (insert pro- or anti-Belichick gag here, depending on your feelings towards the Patriots. Me, I don’t give a fuck either way, and I’m not losing any readers over that shit.)

Acting But Mostly Illegally So Who Knows Secretary Chad Wolf suddenly stepped down, so the Department of Homeland Security is currently being run by a waffle iron that’s been in the break room since Janet Napolitano forget it back in 2013. It’s okay, it’s not like we’re in the middle of a terrorist insurgency or anything.

Some deranged little Trumpkin appears to have actually carved his Turd Emperor’s name into a live manatee, and...what the fuck, y’all? This whole worldview seems to be built around the idea of injecting maximum shittiness into any situation, which apparently extends to vandalizing animals. Even Chuck Todd couldn’t bothsides this. (But please don’t bring it to his attention, or he’ll try.)

I guess Princess Ivanka is worried about her political future, now that her family name is synonymous with not just stealing from charity and stiffing contractors and bribing porn stars and caging children and praising white nationalists and doing Putin’s bidding and destroying jobs and pardoning war criminals but also crazed, violent rioting. Y’know what? Don’t spoil it for her; it’ll be more fun when she finds out on her own.

Tragically, I lost my very last mouthful of delicious Xmas ale to the headline proclaiming a “rift” had opened between Vice President Mike Pants and the man who sent a rabid mob to lynch him. Yes, Tangerine Idi Amin allegedly told his longtime servile sidekick, “I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” quite possibly the first honest statement he’s made in years. Yeah, “rift” just about covers it.

Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo keeps trying to squeeze as much last-minute fuckery as possible into his tenure, haphazardly slapping the “terrorist group” designation on the Houthi rebels in Yemen, exacerbating one of the world’s most appalling humanitarian crises, because a few more starving children are surely a small price to pay for the opportunity to drop a little extra shit in your Democratic successor’s inbox. Remember this the next time the pious Mr. Pompeo feels the need to lecture others on family values.

As a fitting reward for his years of goonish devotion to a dimestore autocrat, Mike was forced to cancel his final European trip as Secretary of State, because no one was willing to even meet with his cheap gangster ass. Obviously you’re the feared and respected representative of a global superpower when the foreign minister of frickin’ LUXEMBOURG cold-shoulders you. Tell us more about “swagger,” kid.

And I see Consequences Week also caught up to former Michigan Governor Rick Snyder and his toadies, who will face charges for their murderous mismanagement of the Flint water crisis. Say, you don’t suppose we actually live in a country where rich white dudes can’t get away with absolutely anything, do ya?

Anyway, buckle up, cats n’ kittens, we’re heading for fresh new round of impeachment, this time with bipartisan backing. Shit, even Mitch “Got My Judges, What Fucking Good Are You Now?” McConnell seems to be down. Liz Cheney, welcome to the resistance; no, you may not partake of the donuts or the coffee, those are for folks who didn’t need to be menaced by a mass of homicidal maniacs to stand up for what’s right. You may vote with the decent folks this one time, though.

I am worn the fuck out, y’all. It’s almost Joe o’clock, and I cannot fucking wait. Until then, stay safe out there, friends, it’s all kindsa weird. 

Josh Hawley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Fascist Coup Attempt (F/SC)

You think I could get away with the “I almost didn’t blog, the news was so slow” gag tonight? Like, I could write this super long paragraph about the Indians/Mets trade, really milk it, but ho hum, “otherwise it was pretty quiet out there” or some shit? Personally, I think I’ve beaten that gag to death, but I figured it was worth a try.

(Get this post with links, and there’s loads of ‘em tonight, at http://showercapblog.com/josh-hawley-and-the-terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-fascist-coup-attempt/)

Still, I suppose we really ought to discuss that thing where the President of the United States incited a fascist mob to storm the Capitol, attempt to kidnap and execute some of the highest-ranking elected officials in the land, and overthrow the American government on his behalf. Check out that Mets trade when you get a chance, though.

It all started innocently enough, with shiny new freshman Republican Congressthug Mary Miller introducing herself on the national scene with a hearty “Hitler was right” speech. That Miller was not promptly deposited on the very next bus back to the Illinois 15th tells you enough about the state of the GOP in 2021 that nothing that would follow should surprise you.

Mary’s pretty lucky, actually, because her Hitler-praising never really even made it to the front page, what with the aforementioned Mets trade, and also probably the violent coup thing.

About that. What do you even say? A mob of the shittiest losers scraped from the floors of America’s filthiest public restrooms, radicalized by the frankly silly lies of a farcically transparent con man and his cynical enablers, gathered in Washington, D.C., with murderous intentions. Many wore silly costumes, because everything Donald Trump does has to be stupid as well as dangerous.

A series of seditious speakers, including Mo Brooks and Gameshow Göring himself, (and Rudy Giuliani, who pulled out of his cousin just long enough to demand “trial by combat”) riled them up further, until, in a state of raging entitlement, they marched on the Capitol, where they quickly overwhelmed criminally understaffed law enforcement, invading the building where Congress was in the process of certifying the Electoral College vote, forcing historians to hastily add asterisks to encyclopedia entries on the final downfall of Nazism.

When the U.S. President looked upon this howling insurgent mob, who injured 56 police officers and murdered one, he told them, “we love you, you’re very special,” which is nicer than anything he’s ever said to Tiffany.

So Twitter n’ Facebook finally put the fucker in time-out, because he was enthusiastically cheerleading an active terror attack on Congress in session, and also to prevent him from using social media to organize further sectarian violence. As one does in this, our extremely first-world nation.

Meanwhile, the terrorist swarm, chock full of known white supremacist agitators, armed with bats and zip ties and god knows what else (shoutout to the guy who drove all the way up from Alabama only to leave his ELEVEN MOLOTOV COCKTAILS in the truck) roamed the halls, searching for Congressfolk to kidnap and kill. Many allegedly sought to murder Mike Pence, recently excommunicated from Cult45 for refusing to go along with Louie Gohmert’s deeply stupid plan to steal the presidency by sneaking it out of the building under the Vice President’s coat.

D.C. Police Chief Robert Contee actually had the sack to claim that there was “no intelligence” that something like this would happen, a lie so preposterous even the Dotard himself is like, “Layin’ it on a little thick there, huh, Bob?” because the “intelligence” has been all over the web, for weeks, in the form of extremely public planning conducted openly on social media. Just a heads up, they’re plotting a few more rounds of this shit, in case anybody feels like doing their job going forward.

Word is, Minority Leader McCarthy, during the siege, begged his Turd Emperor to call off his rabid supporters, but Hairplug Himmler refused, abandoning his loyal stooge to literally die in a violent insurrection, but damned if Kev didn’t immediately re-staple his lips to that butt the very moment he was safe again. Does Donald Trump’s ass secrete some sort of addictive chemical? I’m really asking.

Anyway, once the terrorist throng was finally cleared from the halls of Congress (after pissing and shitting all over everything like animals), the House GOP immediately acquiesced to their every demand, moving right along with their bullshit “challenge” to the election results, because learning from your mistakes, even when you have literally just unleashed horrifying mob violence on your very own workplace, is, apparently, for cucks.

Of course, the fantastic news is that the Dunderhead Revolt failed spectacularly; (and how could it do anything else, considering the parties involved?) all they managed to accomplish was delaying the certification a few hours, forcing the shitty, decrepit white dudes who represent them to stay up past their bedtimes, officially acknowledging the restaurant-quality ass-kicking Joe Biden administered to their Skidmark Messiah last November. Nice work, losers.   

At that point, this dark episode in American history reverted pretty quickly from constitutional crisis to the more comfortable and familiar Morons Rubbing Shit In Their Own Hair Show that we’ve grown accustomed to. Right wing media, ever ready to gaslight their audience, which craves gaslighting like Paula Dean craves hot buttery racism, figured they could always just blame the whole thing on antifa, but the Dipshit Confederacy wasn’t having any of that, they wanted credit for their felonies, dagnabbit!

...not that tracking any of them down would prove difficult anyway, on account of the way they live-streamed their federal crimes on social media. And took selfies. And paraded, maskless, before the Capitol’s rather substantial security camera collection. There’s really no amount of self-destruction that can force these clowns to abandon their “cultural” rejection of mask-wearing during this public health crisis, is there? Well. Enjoy prison.

Cuz the harsh light of a new day brought, as it is wont to do, a great big fuckin’ bucket of consequences. How quickly the LOCK HER UP crowd devolves into blubbering, “forgive me, I made a mistake, I only treasoned on accident!” One minute, you’re scratching your balls in Speaker Pelosi’s chair, the next, you’re in prison. And the next. And the next. And the next...

I’m really getting a kick out of this sudden wave of May As Well Take My Vacation Days “principled resignations,” too. Does Elaine Chao truly envision a misty-eyed standing ovation for her years-late, community-theatre-worthy show of “bravery?” Betsy DeVos imagines there’s some sort of virtuous stand still available to Betsy DeVos at this late date? That’s honestly adorable.

In the midst of a week where he tried to overthrow the government and have his own Vice President murdered, President Crotchrot somehow still found the mental space to muse OH YEAH GOTTA MAKE TIME DURING THIS SEDITIOUS PSYCHOTIC EPISODE TO FORCE CELEBRITIES TAKE PICTURES WITH ME ONE LAST TIME and so he gave some medals to some golfers, one of whom I understand is deceased. We need to make sure this warped, soggy brain gets left to science, is all I’m saying.

It’s possible I will never stop laughing at Josh Hawley, who finally took the plunge into full-on focus-group fascism ten minutes before Donald Trump transformed himself into American Bin Laden. Son, if you weren’t able to piece together on your own that the moment for your treacherous lil’ pageant passed while police officers were bleeding and dying to protect you from the consequences of your own recklessness, I just don’t think leadership is your calling.

Yeah, Josh jumped (and Ted Cruz jumped after him, let’s spare a belly laugh or twelve for that) straight into a steaming pile of comeuppance, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer fascist. Allies and donors are fleeing, home state newspapers are demanding resignation, his book deal got Milo’d, and there’s still the judgment of history to come. Tee fucking hee.

Hawley and Cruz are getting the headlines (and the calls to resign from Senate colleagues) but we shouldn’t overlook the backbench co-conspirators, if you ask me. We’re gonna run against Tommy Tuberville in 2026 reminding voters that he sided with terrorists attempting to overthrow the government on his VERY FIRST WEEK, and they’re gonna re-elect him anyway, aren’t they?

And now Republicans are whining (story at 11, right?) that another impeachment would be “divisive.” Well, I think we need a little division at this point. We need to divide the violent lunatics and those who incite them from polite society, and certainly from our fucking politics. If we don’t do that, Wednesday’s debacle will simply be the first chapter of a very long book that will suck to read, and suck much, much harder to live through. I’m sorry that y’all made these maniacs such an important part of your electoral coalition; that was a bad decision on your end.

As you process the week’s tragedies, spare a tear for the poor, loyal Shart House staffers, who are suddenly worried about how “shuffled paperwork for a terrorist insurrection” is going to look on a resumé. Now, I’m a compassionate guy; if times ever get truly tough for these poor lackeys, I have plenty of shit they can eat.

But y’know somethin’?  A thousand years ago, when I was wrapping up my last blog, the first results of the Georgia Senate runoffs were just starting to trickle in. For all the horrible shit the country has been through these last few years, we just installed, in two seats the Republican Party has come to view as personal property, a young, liberal, Jewish filmmaker, and the Pastor at Martin Luther King Jr.’s church, the first Black Senator in Georgia history. And in doing so, swung the whole dang Senate into Chuck Schumer’s lovin’ arms.

I know dozens, if not hundreds of you reading this right now donated to those campaigns. Made calls. Knocked on doors. Sent postcards. In a week that’s seen some deeply fucked up notions about the meaning of patriotism, we came together to accomplish something wonderful for our country. Something that changed the course of history, pried power out of Mitch McConnell’s abusive hands, and gave the incoming administration a fighting chance to do some much-needed good. I thank you for it.

Things’re pretty intense right now. The House is looking to impeach the motherfucker again (for incitement of insurrection, which, y’know...is objectively how the guy spent his Wednesday) as early as Monday. Lisa Murkowski is threatening to leave the Republican Party. And the Mets and the Indians made a really big trade (Shazam!).

ANYWAY, soooooooooo yeah. Congratulations, you are officially living through the United States of America’s first ever non-peaceful transfer of power. There should be a challenge coin, don’tcha think?

Oh, incidentally, COVID-19 broke the 4,000-American-deaths-in-one-day barrier, and the worst is still to come. Everything is awful. Everything. I’m sorry. Seriously. What the fuck.

Hey, it’s been a nonstop batguano tornado this week, and I am 100% sure I missed a bunch of details, for which I beg your forgiveness. JESUS CHRIST THE DODDERING FUCK JUST GOT PERMANENTLY SUSPENDED FROM TWITTER, CAN’T YOU GUYS SEE I’M TRYING TO WRITE A CONCLUDING PARAGRAPH? 

It never stops. But I have to, for now. I’m tired. And my HBO Max free trial period ends tomorrow. The sitting President of the United States has been banned from Twitter for inciting violence, “may you live in interesting times,” FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOU 
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