TheFerret
TheFerret's JournalFarts Are the Most Appropriate Soundtrack For This Moment in American History, Frankly (Ferret)
My dearest friends, I must regretfully inform you I have been rendered obsolete. Not by AI, but by all too naturally occurring anti-intelligence. I don’t say this lightly, but I believe we may have just endured the single dumbest week in human history.
(Links await ye: https://showercapblog.com/farts-are-the-most-appropriate-soundtrack-for-this-moment-in-american-history-frankly/)
You know you’re livin’ through some stuff when you wake up to headlines like “Israel carries out strike on Iran and Taylor Swift drops secret double album” and you can’t help but wonder what the third thing’s gonna be, you’d believe anything from kaiju attacks to two-for-one Häagen Dazs pints but I swear to god I was in the middle of writing this paragraph when some unwell gentleman set himself ablaze outside Off-Brand Orbán’s latest trial. (For…rape? Fraud? Attempted insurrection? Ya need a scorecard I tell ya!)
Scroll down a bit to discover reports that our 45th and possibly future President is once again napping through this trial (34 felony charges for the adjudicated rapist this time ‘round, by the way. Thirty-four of the eighty-eight total.) and perhaps not merely napping, but actually sleep-farting all over the courtroom.
(Disclaimer! The fart story is unconfirmed, but of course I got carried away and wrote a bunch of fart jokes, built the whole fucking post around ‘em in fact; when the opportunity to make fake jokes comes along, you seize it. And now it’s too late to rewrite this shit. Just give me the fart thing, okay?)
I’m grateful Donald Trump didn’t sleep-fart on me today, partially because at his age and given the cocktail of miscooked beef, cheap bronzer, and Adderall that passes through his body, those emissions are surely deadlier than anything deployed during the First World War, but mostly because I’d be in that courtroom, and therefore the crosshairs of the MAGA murder mob. Basically the shittiest Scylla/Charybdis scenario since the original. A.k.a. jury duty.
Seems the defense’s strategy is to terrorize every single potential juror away individually, until Manhattan runs out of people. And Jesse Watters is just a merry ol’ cog in the stochastic terror apparatus. Trial starts Monday, unless Fox successfully/accidentally dispatches some hammer-wielding psychopath to one of these jurors’ homes.
You’re not allowed to do terrorism in the name of a rapist who farts in his sleep at his fraud trial. It’s against the rules to be that pathetic. Look, I’m willing to meet you halfway. You can have a cult of personality, but you have to pick a different personality. Worship Shakira, or Count Chocula, anyone but this sleep-farting rapist.
How does none of this embarrass you? When he farts himself awake to waddle out to whine and moan and lie for a few minutes, how do you see anything to admire? I’m honestly curious. A man who cannot tell Jimmy Kimmel apart from Al Pacino deserves neither your adulation nor the American presidency. There, I said it.
I fancy myself something of a connoisseur of authoritarian lackey groveling, (I keep a couple bottles of Trump Cabinet Meeting, the 2017 vintage, for special occasions) so I think we should take a moment to savor Stephen Miller referring to the Dotard as a “style icon.” I love the way that story effortlessly, elegantly leads your brain to the most humiliating moment of that fascist freak’s life. “Stephen Miller” + “style” has nowhere to go but “hey remember that time Stephen Miller went on TV with spray-on hair?” and I think it’s amazing and just that he’s incapable of drawing attention to himself in a non-embarrassing way.
Speaking of groveling, I don’t usually watch the Sunday shows, but I was channel-surfing, and I came across Chris Sununu throttling this sickly, homunculus-like creature, which turned out to be the last tattered remnant of his self-respect. Helluva thing to witness. Say hi to Lindsey Graham’s husk when you see him, Governor!
I’m calling it, you guys. Meet the Republican Senate Candidates is my all-time favorite show. Name a scripted drama that’s delivered as many memorable characters, I’ll wait.
Because out of all available, eligible humans, Wisconsin Republicans somehow settled on a real deep thinker called “Eric Hovde,” who has a kooky plan to disenfranchise the elderly. I wouldn’t worry, I bet that’s the last weird thing Eric ever does or says. Donald Trump wouldn’t endorse a candidate without rigorous vetting, you know.
Plus, this season, they’ve been able to build around an established star. Kari Lake urged followers to “strap on a glock” ahead of the upcoming election, and while I almost always deplore such violent rhetoric, I kinda get why she’s feeling unsafe these days. Like, can you imagine being KARI LAKE and finding yourself out-crazied from the Right?
Cuz Arizona House Republicans are not fucking around. My sources tell me they’re petitioning the state Supreme Court to accept as legally binding a napkin, allegedly signed by Arizona Territory Governor John Noble Goodwin in 1865 in the region’s very first Applebee’s, proclaiming that a woman is worth only and exactly her weight in chickens.
Lotta future Senate candidates in that bunch, I bet. Deep bench.
Y’know, too many politicians flip and flop at the slightest polling fluctuation, but not Tom Cotton, who remains as dedicated to the vision of visiting violence upon those he disagrees with as the day he first made all those friends over at the Times.
I don’t even want to spoil this one for you if you missed it amidst all the farting and self-immolating, but plug “Biden cannibals” into your favorite search engine, if you’re ready to take the plunge into utter madness. PRETTY WEIRD WEEK.
Honestly though, maybe the weirdest thing that happened was a Republican Speaker telling the feral wing of his caucus to fuck off, there’s a country to govern. Which required working with Democrats, an inescapable truth in the face of the MAGA micro-majority’s many fatal flaws, which set off a great deal of snarling and slobbering amongst the ferals, as you can imagine.
And FARTing, even. Do you see how I got carried away with the fart jokes? I’m a fart truther, dammit. I need this.
Anyway, Newt Gingrich’ll scold those rowdy proto-fascists right back in line. “You can’t govern by shooting yourself in the head every day,” he harrumphed.
Trouble is, you can’t BE a Republican in 2024 without first disabling your own brain, by shotgun or hammer or ice pick or perhaps by shoving nickels up your nose because you thought they’d be safer there. You worked so hard to build this electorate, Noot, this tangled mass of outrage-addled fuckwits. The fuck did you think would happen?
Tennessee Republicans are passing anti-chemtrail bills, Noot. It’s a party that solves fake problems while real ones fester. You built that, bro.
Still, looks like Ukraine may actually get that desperately needed aid, (FUCKING FINALLY) even over the objections of the very small, very loud, very insane pro-Putin wing of the Republican Party, led by the space laser lady, who is now making these sad, trolly little space laser jokes that don’t really land, not that you’d expect a mind that misfires so badly and so frequently to be capable of humor, but don’t quit your day job, Marj, or wait, actually, quit your day job, Marj.
Somehow Gingrich’s finger-wagging failed to deter Greene, who has been joined in her crusade by a pitchfork-wielding Tom Massie and Paul Gosar, bearing a torch. Even our mobs are embarrassing.
Hard to figure out why anybody would want off such an awesome train, but the retirement announcements keep piling up. Imagine getting death threats for the sake of a job that forces you to sit in a room and listen to Chip Roy pitch that same insufferable Chip Roy shitfit every single week of your life.
My second-favorite show, after Meet the Republican Senate Candidates, is House Dems Bully Poor, Dumb Jimmy Comer. It’s super mean, but you don’t have to feel bad because not only is the target a proud enemy of American democracy working on behalf of wannabe autocrats, he’s also this inadvertent slapstick genius, a drooling fuckup who simply refuses to stop punching himself in the dick.
Even the Furry Kids Shitting in Litter Boxes at School Because Wokeness hoax (my personal favorite) came back this week. The furry kids are biting now. As the myth grows, rural shut-ins will come to believe our cities contain vast “no-go zones” where non-furries fear to tread.
Seems Rob Schneider offended autogolpe co-conspirator/U.S. Senator Cindy Hyde-Smith’s delicate sensibilities at…oh, some gathering of shitty people, I forget. Any religion that offers me an afterlife where those two are roommates and I get to watch gains a zealot.
Matt Gaetz and Derrick Van Orden are locked in the room next door. Every channel features a different pair of belligerent shitbags, cursed to spend eternity trapped in a confined space with unbearable company. Reince Priebus and Sidney Powell. Larry Kudlow and Nick Fuentes. Kellyanne Conway and Scott Baio. I would kill and die for that religion.
Sarah Huckleberry Slanders, who longtime readers may remember as the Mouth of American Fascism, quite possibly committed criminal lectern fraud, according to a legislative audit. Governor Slanders insists she did nothing illegal, as the lectern originally came filled with $19,000 worth of delicious nougat, but she ate some of the nougat and gave a bunch to neighborhood children and then she swapped the rest for some magic beans which admittedly failed to pan out as promised but all she’s really guilty of, Your Honor, is making a bad investment with her own legally obtained nougat.
Looking to tack an extra-dignified final chapter onto the ol’ legacy, seems Bob Menendez invited the feds over to play a few rounds of Pin the Bribery Charges On My Wife, Please. Suddenly kinda wondering whether prenups typically cover seizure of assets by law enforcement…
Anyway, I’ve just accepted an offer to join some time-traveling adventurers on a mission to save Joe Biden’s uncle from those cannibals, so if anything else happens, you’re gonna have to chronicle it yourself.
We could use some beer on the mission, because I’d hate to get eaten by cannibals like Joe Biden’s uncle without having one last beer. (The beer fund takes Venmo, Cash App and PayPal now, it’s very modern and user-friendly.)
One of the members of our team is Corn Pop, by the way. C’mon. Buy Corn Pop a beer.
Oh, and thank you SO MUCH for selling out the CEX run of Marguerite vs. the Occupation! Should be some more Kickstarters someday soonish, so more copies will be available down the road someplace. I’ll always be deeply grateful that you’ve supported me as I chase this big, fat, lifelong dream. Y’all rule. Thank you.
Marj in Charge, and Other Freaky Shit That's Actually Happening (Ferret)
With memories of the divisive presidential primary fading faster than the idea of Ron DeSantis as a viable national political figure, MAGA Nation has turned peacefully inward, to contemplate the really big questions in life, like “is the rapist game show host we worship more like Jesus, or Nelson Mandela?”
And of course historians will grapple with that issue until the sun goes out. (Grapple with THIS POST ONLY WITH LINKS AND ON MY BLOG SITE by clicking here: https://showercapblog.com/marj-in-charge-and-other-freaky-shit-thats-actually-happening/)
I come down on the Jesus side myself, for do the gospels not teach us that He did beg and plead and pitch a holy fit three times on the eve of His porn star hush money trial, hoping to avoid said trial altogether? And were His pleas not thrice rejected, by the Roman Deep State and their unfairly nonwhite legal professionals?
But look, if your position happens t’be more along the lines of, say, “while certainly Christlike in many regards, he resembles Mandela MORE, because of his threats to vindictively prosecute his political opponents,” I can totally respect that. I think we can find a way to disagree without being disagreeable. But no, see, I can tell you’re upset by the way you’re waving that nail gun around.
Sigh. I hate the Culture Wars.
Point is, it’s an especially golden calf y’all have elected to lewdly undulate before, and I assure you, the rest of us are super impressed. Why, watching him order Chick-fil-A this week, one could not help but gush “DAMN, he very nearly navigated that brief social interaction like a cognitively unimpaired adult human!”
…but not quite.
And now we get to watch him grumble and fidget through an honest-to-goodness criminal trial. He’ll spend the whole thing sneaking sweaty glances at the doorway, anticipating the emergence of any number of potential nightmares, ranging from bail bondsmen to process servers to the bogeyman that keeps all Republicans awake at night: the post-Dobbs electorate!
They’re right to be scared. Arizona’s all-Republican Supreme Court decided to rewrite women’s bodily autonomy rights using outtakes from Braveheart, and the Republican-controlled House, given the chance to respond, bleated THE MEDIEVALER THE BETTER, which I suppose might maybe somehow come back to bite these theocrat fucks in the ass come Election Day.
It’s actually pretty unsettling, watching Kari Lake backpedal. You’re so used to that fervent certainty glistening through the Joan Crawford filter while she rants about the bamboo fiber-eating gremlins who live in Maricopa County’s voting machines, and suddenly it’s “p-pay no attention to my extensively documented history of batshit statements on this issue, I’m really quite m-m-moderate!”
The Dotard’s strategy to counter his vulnerability with the critical Women Who Want Legal Control of Their Own Bodies demographic appears to once again rely heavily on making a bunch of shit up, and hoping a mob takes care of the rest. Unless I missed the meeting where the Democratic Party adopted a new platform advocating to keep abortion legal through the second slow song of the child’s first homecoming dance, in which case I retract this paragraph.
The way Off-Brand Orbán casually abuses his power over the institutional GOP generally frightens me, but I’ll admit I enjoyed a dark chuckle at the unceremonious squishing of Lindsey Graham. In a party overflowing with proto-fascist taint remoras, nobody, absolutely nobody guzzled more taint juice than Lindsey, and when he finally got flicked away into that grey, hazy space where the Spicers and McDaniels shamble through their sad, brittle half-existence, it barely merited mention. Enjoy yer wages, Senator!
If you stand outside the House Republican Cloakroom, you can distinctly hear the ghost of James Doohan bellowing SHE CANNAE GOVERN, CAP’N while Mike Johnson sobs and sucks Marjorie Taylor Greene’s toes in supplication. In other words, Easter recess is over.
Moscow Marjorie, in her most magnanimous beneficenceness, permitted Mike to spend another week juggling turds atop the flaming unicycle that is the Speakership under the MAGA micro-majority. Kind of her.
Still, you can lead a messianically delusional fuckwit to the House floor, but you can’t teach him how to count votes. Honestly, every week we get through without these dolts kicking over a lantern and burning the whole fucking town down should be looked upon as a miracle.
For now, they’re stumbling over one another to make sure their personal favorite brands gain protected status under a proposed Endangered Appliances Act, before Marj blows her whistle, setting off the latest round of musical chairs.
Because these things are up to MARJORIE TAYLOR GREENE now. Marjorie “the wrong side won on January 6th” Taylor Greene. The Speaker serves at the pleasure of the hate-mongering dewormer shill who made the decision to INVEST REAL MONEY IN TRUMP MEDIA; that’s right there in the Constitution, plain as the nose on your face, frankly I can’t believe you forgot the Schoolhouse Rock! video.
This “who shot Tim Sheehy” subplot may be a tad derivative, but I’m sure it’s just the opening act of the always fruitful Vetting of the Republican Senate Candidates, a ritual destined to provide future anthropologists with endless hours of befuddled delight. “Wait, why is she telling us she’s not a witch? No fucking way that’s a real campaign ad, that’s SNL!” And the other guy just smugly pulls up some Herschel Walker clips he’s been saving, the ones about trees and such.
(My working Sheehy theory: while I cannot yet conclusively determine whether the shooting occurred in the national park or Afghanistan, I’m confident it was Professor Plum.)
The first thought I had when read “Donald Trump's New Hampshire campaign chair threatened to kill his colleagues in a shooting spree, murder the department chief and rape the chief’s wife” was that somebody must’ve plagiarized a gag I wrote six years ago, but no, it’s real reporting from real life. And, honestly, the sort of thing that happens all the time now. Ho hum.
The Gerald Ford Foundation was rocked to its very, um, foundation, amidst recriminations, resignations, and more than one old man slap fight over the decision to not give Liz Cheney the prestigious Gerry Woulda Liked You, Probably award, which is like an Oscar to America’s thriving People Who Like to Argue About What Gerald Ford Would Think subculture. Their basket art is…breathtaking.
Been tinkering with a pitch targeting the audiences of those “dangerous jobs” shows, where it’s not crab fishing or logging, it’s working in a state elections office, or a rural library. Or maybe a Planet Fitness, in this age of power-drunk internet bigot Chaya Raichik, who’s having way too much fun mashing that Incite Bomb Threats button to stop any time soon.
I certainly appreciate the bluntness of that RFK Jr. staffer who confessed the campaign’s true goal is to ratfuck America back into kakistocracy, though of course she was promptly exiled from Crackpot Narnia for such profane honesty.
I’d like to offer my full-throated support for Kevin McCarthy’s apparent decision to transform himself into a creature of pure, incandescent spite, aimed at Matt Gaetz. I LOVE this for you, Kev. Become Matt’s personal Max Cady. Get some tattoos and work up some labyrinthine revenge plots. Your life was always meant to be a cautionary tale; let’s give it a banger of a last act.
Jacob Wohl received a visit from the Comeuppance Fairy this week, that was fun. Man, remember Jacob Wohl? He seems so charmingly harmless now. Remember when right-wing creeps staged Waiting for Guffman-quality fake Elizabeth Warren sex scandals instead of hunting BLM protesters, or erecting gallows on the grounds of the U.S. Capitol? Those were the fucking wonder years, and we should’ve appreciated them more.
Actually, I think I’m gonna go drink some beer and write a mournful country song about the good ol’ days, before the weirdos turned violent. I should warn you, I don’t know how to write songs, so it’s gonna take a fair amount of beer. And this may seem like a wild coincidence, but I’ve framed this very blog’s tip jar (accepting PayPal, Venmo, and Cash App!) as a “beer fund,” as part of my hugely successful “drunken, bathrobe-clad internet loudmouth” branding.
And of course I can always use more email addresses on the ol’ mailing list, and more followers @john_luzar on Elon’s Broken Plaything, annnnnnnnd I’ll stop askin’ for stuff now. You stay safe out there, see you next week!
(Incidentally, looks like there may still be a few copies of Cover A available for preorder for the imminent new print run of my one-shot WWII comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation! Hoping to have additional comics news to report soon, but I gotta grind out a lil’ more work first. Couldn’t do it without y’all’s kind support, of course, and I remain deeply grateful.)
We Have Always Been at War With Easter
Hi everybody! Miss me? I missed y’all! Y’know, I actually made arrangements for a fill-in blogger, but I had to pull her at the last minute after I finally ran the background check. All she told me at the interview was that her name was Ronna, and she was absolutely, positively, categorically not related to Mitt Romney, so I figured, “great, I won’t have to worry about dressage stabling fees.” Live and learn.
(As ever, GETCHER LINKS HERE: https://showercapblog.com/we-have-always-been-at-war-with-easter/)
Anyway, I’m home on leave from the front lines of the War on Easter. What did I miss? I guess there’s a market for rapist-endorsed Bibles now?
Fortunately, I was able to stop along the way to take advantage of the post-holiday sale on those special, seasonal Reese’s, the ones in the shape of a bunch of transgender people crucifying Christ. They just get the chocolate-to-peanut butter ratio better, y’know?
His Satanic Majesty Joseph Robinette Biden Jr., Darkest of All Possible Brandons, celebrated with the traditional Democrat Party ritual: forcing enslaved Republican children to scrape crosses off Easter eggs by hand.
In contrast, his pious Republican opponent marked the holiday by simply posting a list of People He Would Like His Manic Murder Mob To Do A Stochastic Terrorism To in a tasteful, all-caps font, before going about his regular daily business, dehumanizing immigrants, and begging the journalist-dismembering House of Saud for bail money, likely in exchange for Alaska in the Reich to come.
Don’t let the odd fabricated meeting with a murder victim’s family or video of his political opponent hog-tied in the back of a pickup truck distract you from Off-Brand Orbán’s overall Christlikeness. My favorite New Testament stories have always been the ones where He incessantly targets that one judge’s daughter for harassment and hey, who knows, maybe even violence.
Apparently the $175 million civil fraud appeal bond a certain well-known rapist/valor thief/general sack of crap posted may itself be fraudulent, which surprises all of you a whole lot, I’m sure.
Axios tells us we can gain valuable insight into the cognitive wonder that is Donald Trump’s mind by examining the Spotify playlist he imposes upon the sycophants and foreign spies down at Marm-a-Lago. Allow me to gently suggest you could gain similar insight by snorting Neptune’s Fix and shoving your head up an incontinent warthog’s ass.
House Speaker Moses Johnson spent the week curled up in the fetal position inside his own, personal promised land: the Easter recess, where there are no votes to count or bills to pull from the floor at the last minute, and Marjorie Taylor Greene can’t reach you, not even with her very best space laser. Enjoy it while ya can, Mike, but remember…time wounds all heels.
Embattled shithouse rat Bob Good seems to…excuse me, I misspoke. Embattled “Freedom Caucus Chairman” Bob Good seems to’ve convinced himself that Speaker Mike’s endorsement would be of some use in his primary, and if that strikes you as the sort of judgment you want in a federal lawmaker, go ahead and vote for him, I guess.
Bob himself endorsed convicted Capitol rioter Derrick Evans’ congressional bid, and if that strikes you as the sort of judgment you want in a federal lawmaker, you should know I have an ivermectin tree I’d be willing to part with, assuming the price is right.
House Republicans can’t navigate the lunch order without sparking a fresh round of flash retirements, but they introduced legislation to rename Dulles after the Dotard and honestly, Rapist Game Show Host International Airport has a certain ring to it. “It says we’re scheduled to land at Rapist at 4:32, so pick me up at Gate C at 5?”
Through it all, poor, dumb Jimmy Comer keeps shuffling about, mumbling, “Hey, Mister, stake a fellow American to an impeachment inquiry?” to anybody who doesn’t yet know to cross the street when they see him coming. Comer has managed to brand himself Too Incompetent For MAGA, which is staggering when you consider the legion of fuckups who haven’t.
If that’s not enough to flabber your gasts, somehow Lauren Boebert has become Too TACKY For MAGA, a state of white trash transcendence too vast and incomprehensible for our limited, human consciousness to process. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t serve you any more alcohol, you’re making the rest of the hate mob uncomfortable.”
Karl Rove’s “terrorism is bad, actually” take qualifies as left-wing extremism in today’s Republican Party, so if ol’ Turd Blossom turns up on your doorstep, fleeing a lynch mob, consider allowing him sleep in the garage.
John Eastman officially claimed his seat in the weekly disbarred insurrectionists poker game, and Jeffrey Clark looks set to join him, but they don’t take Trump Bucks, so Jeff’ll have to wait and see if his Aunt Libby really comes through with that job at the Dairy Queen.
Jeffrey Goldberg at The Atlantic gave Rob Portman a sneak peek at the legacy he’s been diligently building himself out of pristine blocks of radiant, crystalline cowardice. Obviously, there are many more important reasons to usher the 21st century GOP onto history’s ash heap, but think of the fun we’ll have writing the history books as a bonus.
Apparently 48-year-old Ervin Lee Bolling decided he’d finally jammed enough QAnon memes up his nose with a pencil to make the informed choice to launch a one-dolt civil war, since he crashed his SUV into an FBI building in Atlanta. If it turns out they found a nail gun on the front seat, we may be seeing the first of a whole wave of copycat dipshits.
I would like to lodge a formal complaint with the headline Virginia School Board Member’s Jan. 6 Arrest Fractures Community, for not reading Virginia Community Unites to Drive Seditionist From, Holy Forking Shirtballs, a SCHOOL BOARD?, but I suppose journalists must bow to the objective reality of the partisan divide on the issue of…whether or not terrorists should run schools. You’re registered to vote, right? Could you like, double-check real quick?
Shiny new Louisiana Governor Jeff Landry has had enough of the state’s student-athletes hiding communistly in the locker room during the national anthem, no doubt kneeling, in litter boxes, wearing their furry suits, sipping Bud Lights with Kid Rock, whose fursona is an affably portly raccoon named “Rufus.”
Landry’s not the only one experimenting with Ron DeSantis’ “aggressive culture war douchebag” playbook, as the President of Botswana is threatening to send 20,000 elephants to Germany. Not really in our wheelhouse here at Shower Cap’s Blog, I know, but I’m open to expanding the mission statement. Comprehensive documentation of wingnut asshattery, PLUS up-to-the-minute details on all prospective pachyderm trafficking crises, whaddya think?
No Labels? MORE LIKE NO CANDIDATE AMIRITE? I apologize for depriving you all of my wit these last few weeks. Still, in the long battle against America’s uniquely embarrassing anti-democracy movement, it’s nice to catch a fucking break for once, innit?
Plus, the increased pressure to play spoiler is clearly melting what’s left of RFK Jr.’s mind. He insists Joe Biden is a bigger threat to democracy than the fella who spent the entire transition period participating in every available conspiracy to overturn the results of an election he lost, but in Junior’s defense, that’s just because his brain doesn’t work at all, as evidenced by the stream of bat guano that issues from his fool mouth whenever he discusses, well, anything at all.
As for myself, alas, I invested the beer fridge fund in Trump Media stock, so I’m down to half a flat can of Diet Caffeine Free Coors Light.
As you’ve no doubt surmised, it is once again time for me to bat my pretty little eyes and rattle the ol’ tip jar, (which accepts PayPal, Venmo, and Cash App, if ya didn’t know) and also to let you know next week’s blog will be delayed until the evening of SATURDAY, April 13th, owing to an existing commitment. Until then, as ever, you stay safe out there, chum…
PS - I’m told y’all sold out almost the entire upcoming print run of my WWII comic, Marguerite vs. the Occupation, during my hiatus, but there may still be a copy or two available. Either way, more comics news soon. Ish. I hope. THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR GENEROUS SUPPORT, is what I'm trying to say.
Moses Supposes Erroneously (Yes, Again) (Ferret)
We’ve been living through the stubbornly persistent golden age of conservative bumblefuckery for some time now, but I predict Speaker Johnson’s work in the field will ultimately stand up alongside the greats. Brownback. McCarthy. Reeves. Perhaps even the Dotard himself.
(Makes more sense with th’links: https://showercapblog.com/moses-supposes-erroneously-yes-again/)
Hear me out. Mike has squeezed an impressive amount of fuckup into a young career. More failed rules votes than any majority in half a century? Not just anybody can fuck up that hard, y’know. That’s talent.
He’s starting to figure out that you’re allowed to pull bills before they fail on the floor, which counts as progress, I suppose, but he sure as shit isn’t passing anything.
Well, that’s not entirely fair. He did finally pin down the one, precise moment in time when his ever-shrinking flock of fuckwits could sneak their Mayorkas impeachment vote through. So the important stuff’s getting done.
The Mayorkas impeachment is perhaps best understood as a taxpayer-funded platform for Marjorie Taylor Greene to bleat from, while Clay Higgins rants about ghost buses and his prophetic wife’s stupid, stupid dreams. They envision all this unfolding as one big, happy campaign ad, and I’m inclined to let them play their hand.
Fuck yes. Show America how the sausage is being made, or not made, by the sofa-humpingest weirdos who ever got kicked out of Arkham Asylum for harshing the vibe.
Like House Intelligence chair Mike Turner, who ran naked through the halls of Congress, pulling fire alarms while hollering about the mine shaft gap. Or how about Moses himself inviting an insurrectionist bigot to play House Chaplain for a day? All while George Santos bangs on the glass, taunting the inmates with his Cameo wealth.
Oh, and Democrat Tom Suozzi flipped the New York third back to the good guys, perhaps explaining the custom EXPEL DEEZ NUTS t-shirt Santos wears in that security footage of him pissing on Anthony D'Esposito’s lawn last night.
I wonder if the House Ethics Committee members tasked with combing through Matt Gaetz’s text messages for evidence of sex trafficking will ever feel clean again? Hey, remember that time that one rapey, proto-fascist loudmouth brought down the Speaker of the House of Representatives? American history. Wild shit.
Anyway, I guess a bunch of House Republicans are retiring, probably because they’re worn out from all that legislative productivity. Golly. Hard t’believe anybody would want off such an awesome train.
Meanwhile, poor, dumb Jimmy Comer’s star witness just got indicted for lying to the FBI. Also this week, the very foundation of Dinesh D’Souza’s donkey documentary proved equally fraudulent. Kinda like when Fox’s entire justification for piping the Big Lie into millions of American households turned out to be the baseless musings of a self-professed “cactus artist.”
And wouldn’t it be awesome if any of that mattered? To the audience that guzzles this crap by the gallon, I mean? No, Fox and co. simply exercise their First Amendment right to completely fucking ignore these stories, and the Gospel According to the Cactus Lady spreads unchecked.
The best thing about Donald Trump in court is the way he always loses. From defaming and terrorizing the woman he raped to the attempted theft of the whole dang executive branch, it’s been consistently therapeutic, watching this human shithole fail.
$453.5 million. Oooooowee. I imagine that stings a little extra when you’ve spent your life artificially inflating your net worth. Actually, there’s a chance this all winds up with E. Jean Carroll battling the State of New York for custody of Lindsey Graham.
(Normally, Lindsey’s groveling would scarcely merit comment, but since he’s betraying what were allegedly core principles these days, I suppose it’s worth stopping to sneer. Y’know what? I bet it’s a huge relief. Like stumbling out of Room 101. )
Realizing the Children of the Candy Corn probably don’t have $453.5 million worth of NFTs left in ‘em, the Dotard installed his Petty-defiling daughter-in-law as official Donation Redirector at the RNC. Addressing her new staff for the first time, Lara Trump explained, “Daddy needs it for his rape bills,” before demanding their wallets, purses, and jewelry.
Anyway, with his first criminal trial set to join the cavalcade of legal faceplants, Off-Brand Orbán took a quiet moment to ogle some high school girls while he still can, just in case the plan to hide out in the Oval Office till the heat dies down falls through.
Actually, there’re a whole lotta plans for the Turd Reich Restored scenario, most of them terrifying. A nationwide abortion ban, of course. Stephen Miller is to receive his own personal, private, immigrant-hunting army, while NATO is to be fed, bite by bite, to Donnie’s pal, Vlad, who was so tickled upon receiving this invitation that he decided to splurge, and murder his most prominent domestic opponent.
That said, you have to admit, the Deep State sure knows how to throw a psyop. That halftime show was football at its satanic best; Taylor Swift expertly transplanting Joe Biden’s brain into Travis Kelce’s young, virile body, laying all age-related concerns to rest once and for all, was almost as much fun as Donald Trump losing another $453.5 million dollars.
..but not quite.
Michigan State Rep. Josh Schriver responded to losing his staff and committee assignments for espousing the white nationalist Great Replacement theory by espousing the white nationalist Great Replacement theory even harder, as hard as his subpar white boy heart could, in fact. It was pretty embarrassing.
Actually, I was flipping through the blueprints for the next Jade Helm stage, and it turns out there was a plan to replace Josh, but nobody was able to find a paperweight quite lumpy enough.
Joe Rogan is platforming something called “AIDS denialism” now, because I guess we’re finding new things to refuse to believe all the time. 1 in 7 likely Republican primary voters demand the public burning of any and all library books containing Galileo’s blasphemous heliocentrism filth, for example.
I’d like to offer Tucker Carlson my heartfelt congratulations on his new post as Putin’s official Ministry of Tourism Spokescuck. Tucker says Moscow is way better than any city in dumb ol’ America, a land of plenty where the woke are hunted for sport.
Hey, why not put all that fish stix money where your mouth is, kid? Lead the MAGA exodus across the sea to this white nationalist paradise, with its science fiction shopping cart technology. Yeah, you get to be Moses now. Last fella didn’t work out. I’m sure Pootie has plenty of jobs for y’all in his growth economy.
So I guess Huma Abedin is dating George Soros’ kid, which hit the MAGA internet like a jackpot after twenty years of pissing paychecks away on the slots. The old ones say their union is destined to produce the libtard Antichrist, who shall do battle with JFK Jr. at the halftime show of next year’s Super Bowl, right after Tay-Tay leaves Travis for a life of unmoist chastity in Ben Shapiro’s harem.
I’ll leave you with that image. For a couple weeks, actually. Gonna take next week off, to celebrate my (yikes) 45th birthday. Yikes.
So consider this the BIRTHDAY BEER GRIFT. Observe the candles adorning the rattling tip jar, yea the very tip jar that now accepts PayPal, Venmo, AND Cash App. Or sign up on ye olde emaile liste at showercapblog.com, or follow @john_luzar on Elon’s toy Titanic. Or do none of those things. Even though it’s my birthday.
(Sadly, it turns out pre-orders for the CEX run of Marguerite vs. the Occupation are not going to be a thing after all. Technical issues beyond my control. I’m told you’ll be able to place orders when the physical books arrive in a few months. I’ll keep you posted. Sorry ‘bout the hassle. I am beyond grateful for your support.)
See you in March! Do stay safe out there, if you’re able…
If Moses Had Been This Bad at His Job, the Bible Would Be Shorter
What an asparagus fart of a news cycle, right?
(Links version here: https://showercapblog.com/if-moses-had-been-this-bad-at-his-job-the-bible-would-be-shorter/)
Republican special counsel delivers a sneak low blow to the job-creator guy, sending allllllllll the shitty little Cillizzas of the political media scurrying gleefully to and fro, to squawk their favorite squawk of all: the squawk of performative, self-congratulatory impartiality. While the adjudicated rapist plots and preens.
Makes your poor, tired, Democrat heart skip a beat, doesn’t it?
Flip a mismanaged pandemic and a crashed economy into one of the strongest recoveries on the dang planet, and still, some cry BRING BACK THE IDIOT NAZI RAPIST.
I remain optimistic that the electorate’ll get its shit together as it gets a better look at the ever-diminishing, rapist game show host and his legion of the resentful and subpar, but it probably wouldn’t hurt if we shifted into campaign mode.
Fortunately, there’s plenty to talk about. The Republican Party is, after all, a wet, sloppy wad of yammering dipshits, led by a rapist.
Mike Johnson enjoyed the Mosesest week of his speakership to date, leading his people to the promised land, where nary a footfall lands without finding a rake.
The House Republican Conference is like a Volkswagen Beetle crammed to bursting with the skeeviest clowns on the sex offender registry, careening end over end down a mountain made of turds. Honest to God, have you ever seen such bumbling, bungling, couch-humping fuck-ups in your entire life?
No one expects actual governance from these dorks anymore. That would be cruel. Like driving 219 cows onto the floor of the Berliner Philharmonie and demanding they play Tchaikovsky.
I’m really looking forward to the movie, where Charlton Heston forgets to count votes before marching into the Red Sea, and wackiness ensues.
See, Moses hatched a sad little plan, to sneak the Mayorkas impeachment vote through while one House Dem was in the hospital for a medical procedure, which is the sort of maneuver only the majorities with the very strongest mandates deploy, but they fucked it up, because they are fuck-ups.
(Psst, it was really th’DEEP STATE’S fault tho. Like always. Don’t let anybody tell ya Republicans’re responsible for their own fuck-ups.)
Anyway. Speaker-fer-now Johnson then immediately fucked up his Israel aid bill, too, before storming off the House floor, furiously flipping through the Acme catalogue in search of something else to blow up in his own face.
Strategically, blocking the impeachment may’ve been a mistake; I think America could’ve learned something important by watching Marjorie Taylor Greene shriek her way through the role of impeachment manager.
Marj lent her celebrity, and, dare I say, gravitas to Matt Gaetz’s resolution to officially proclaim Off-Brand Orbán stands six feet, three inches tall, weighs two hundred and fifteen pounds, could almost certainly correctly identify drawings of every animal that ever existed, I mean, not the weird, Australian ones, be resonable, BUT THE POINT IS he absolutely, positively, never insurrected, not even a little bit.
Except that one time, of course. You remember, the months-long conspiracy to overturn the election he lost? The one that climaxed in that laughable-but-undeniably-proto-fascist orgy of violence at the Capitol?
Speaking of proto-fascist violence, Hannity’s broadcasting right-wing vigilante attacks live on Fox now. I actually didn’t know about Curtis Sliwa, but he’ll fit right in. His cosplay brownshirt brigade’s uniforms certainly match the movement’s “aging loser” aesthetic.
Again, I don’t want it to sound like I’m asking for better Nazis, but I do resent the shabbiness of America’s rapist-worshipping, white nationalist throng.
Which brings us to the compromise border bill, which finally died in a pitiful spurt of ineptitude, obsequiousness, and blind, racist hate. Shoutout to Oklahoma Senator James Lankford, who apparently slept through the snake story, all that work just to get tossed to the mob as a race traitor.
Elsewhere on the death cult loyalty beat, Ronna CertainlynotRomney had not, at press time, been formally thrown under the bus, though she has graciously lain down under the bus’s rear left tire, to await word of her fate.
Meanwhile, JD Vance wants to amend the Constitution to allow Donald Trump to rape whoever he wants, a bold gambit in the competitive groveling league some affectionately refer to as the “veepstakes.” Your move, Elise.
Republicans’re burning books in campaign ads now, that’s healthy. “As the only candidate in the race to set a stack of LGBTQ books ablaze with a flamethrower, Valentina Gomez is the clear choice for Missouri Secretary of State,” said Nazis, and nobody else.
Probably doesn’t help to have Elon hurtling madly down his $44 billion rabbit hole, stuffing his cheeks with every red pill he encounters along the way, pimping Great Replacement Theory like some shitty, too-online Howard Hughes.
Poor Tucker Carlson flies all the way to Russia to jerk a murderous dictator off, and what thanks does he get? Smacked around right in front of whatever’s left of his audience. Heh.
I guess Ted Cruz is worried the revolution is gonna come for him next time he scampers off to Cancún while his constituents freeze to death, so he’s demanding taxpayer-funded, armed security to keep the filthy serfs away at the airport. Christ, what an asshole. The Cruz brand is…reliable.
The rapist finally agreed to debate Nikki Haley, bowing to her undeniable momentum following the Nevada Republican primary, where she managed to earn several votes against the widely expected winner: Not Nikki Haley.
Things mighta panned out differently if the early frontrunner, Not Ron DeSantis, hadn’t dropped out. The post-mortems on that splendiferous debacle are everything I hoped they’d be, tales of malicious cretins flushing immense piles of conservative donor cash away to throw the shittiest party in human history, a cotillion for a pouty, authoritarian dweeb.
What a bizarre, misguided endeavor. Did anyone consider themself, like, called to Ron DeSantis, I wonder? Did people meet and fall in love on that campaign, because I worry their kids’d have a hard time in life.
Oh, and Marianne Williamson dropped out, after losing a straw poll held at a Wendy’s in Topeka to Not Nikki Haley.
And a unanimous ruling against Donald Trump’s fabricated claims of total immunity surely earned a three-judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals a ticket to the work camp in the Reich to come.
But for now, the rule of law, though battered n’ bruised, holds the line. Which is good. More of that, please.
Gonna be some year, friends.
And to get through it, I am going to require…beer.
Yes, it’s time once more for the BEER GRIFT, where I bat my eyes and rattle the tip jar (accepting, as ever, PayPal, Cash App, n’ Venmo) and huskily mutter about relying on the kindness of strangers. Other things you can do to boost my self-esteem include following @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, and signing up on the email list at showercapblog.com.
Thanks to everyone who reached out about the payment issues on the Marguerite vs. the Occupation pre-order site, by the way. Should be working now, let me know! Thank you for your kind support, folks, it keeps me sane. Stay safe out there!
Thirty Two Short Films About Hating Taylor Swift (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Hey there, everybody. I know it’s been a bit of a week, and there’s a lot to get through, so if anyone needs to step outside to hate Taylor Swift for five minutes, I totally understand. Go for it.
(Makes more sense with all the nooz links: https://showercapblog.com/thirty-two-short-films-about-hating-taylor-swift/)
Don’tcha just HATE TAYLOR SWIFT? So much? Aren’t you literally overwhelmed by the urge to fill the internet with your intricate calculations connecting her to your George R.R. Martin-esque conspiracy theory about the globalist cabal that feminizes men to keep ‘em docile?
No?
Huh. I’m starting to think maybe you never really wanted to make America great again at all.
Because in MAGA culture, all the good little girls and boys dutifully hate Taylor Swift, like it says in the Bible.
And every now and then, one of them snaps and decapitates their father. Just like in that Bible story, where that one apostle, recognizing his dad as an agent of th’Deep State, murders him, and displays his severed head on the internet, pleasing the Lord.
Yes, it’s a holy culture war they’re a-wagin’, and not at all a fit pitched by aging incels. And in a culture war, who needs pop icons or championship athletes when you’ve got dusty spitebuckets like Ted Nugent and Jon Voight?
Like any out-of-work-actor, Voight seized the tiny spotlight he’d tumbled backwards into to deliver a new audition monologue, about Saint Dotard the Unjustly Maligned, who was “destroyed as Jesus.”
AS JESUS.
People have killed and died for this soft, shabby shit. The Freewheelin’ Jon Voight, voice of a generation. What an embarrassing fucking cult. Dad-decapitating weirdos.
Incidentally, let me congratulate Real America, on that $50 million y’all dropped on that rapist’s legal bills. Seems to me a billionaire rapist could pay his own legal bills, but I know the rube tithe is sacred in your culture. Your super cool culture where everyone gathers on Sunday to yell at the singer and her boyfriend.
Fifty million dollars.
Fifty million dollars to pay Alina Habba to lose 83.3 million more.
How is there no buyer’s remorse? Ever?
Alina may be headed under the bus, and just as she offered herself up to the faithful as a potential Anti-Tay, too. I would miss her. First-rate grifter.
Fifty million bucks to pay shameless idiots to stall, while RNC fundraising craters. Perhaps that death cult wasn’t such a clever investment after all.
We’re starting to piece together the falling Turd Reich’s office culture, fueled, apparently, by the candy store Dr. Ronny Jackson ran out of the Lincoln Sitting Room, where even the Diet Coke Steward was rapey.
Gosh, I just can’t figure out how things turned so toxic, in that cult that worships a rapist. You know the rapist, the one who throws the same sad, flaccid, don’t-you-know-who-my-father-is tantrum at every woman who challenges him. The rapist who’s lifelong friends with that sex-trafficking wrestling promoter.
Honestly, given the culture of rapist-worship, it’s surprising more of them don’t decapitate their parents.
A rare overseas stop on the Never Ending Donald Trump Legally Faceplants Tour, because I guess he wanted to hear what it sounds like to get laughed out of court with a British accent.
Taylor Swift should do a song about the Steele dossier. As part of a concept album where she comes out as a Pentagon psyop, and confirms every single QAnon delusion, via irresistible ditties about dumping Proud Boys. Two discs. Real proggy.
I suppose we should check in on Congress, aka MyPillow Presents Mike Johnson’s Tales From the Border. They want spikes n’ alligators now, because of course emotionally stunted people propose cartoon solutions.
Especially when the point is not to solve, but rather to highlight, exaggerate, and whenever possible, exacerbate the problem. The Oklahoma GOP censured their own Senator for working to solve the problem.
Can’t solve the problem, y’see, because that’d make it harder to reinstall the rapist in the White House. “Why, we couldn’t possibly help our constituents!” sputtered Chuck Grassley, “They might vote for Joe Biden! Instead of the rapist I work for, the one who tried to overturn the last presidential election!” Looks like a really rewarding life, Charles. Dignified.
Anyway, yeah, it’s the Impeach Mayorkas Show, which offers the core audience a sufficiently foreign-sounding villain. Consumers with edgier tastes may prefer the Pinochet helicopter fantasies of U.S. Congressman Mike Collins, or the unapologetically hateful ramblings of Texas Lt. Governor Dan Patrick, featuring talking points lifted from the El Paso shooter’s manifesto.
Politico tells us Kevin McCarthy is now devoted, body and soul, to revenging himself upon his enemies within the caucus that brought his political career to such a hilariously just end. As something of a connoisseur of circular firing squads, I’m really looking forward to this one.
Like, we get the end of Nancy Mace’s congressional career, or we get to watch one of ascendant American fascism’s shittiest enablers fade into irrelevance before our eyes. Can I see it both ways before I make up my mind? Is there a version that winds up in herky-jerky, suburban dad fisticuffs on Matt Gaetz’s lawn?
Charlie Kirk is a Central Park Five truther now. Or he was for a minute, until he returned his lawyer’s texts. Either way, he’s certainly committed to TPUSA’s Alt Right rebrand, “now with double the racism!” (Wow, and there was a TON of racism in the old version!)
Seems One America “News” Network may have engaged in illegal activities while spreading that Big Lie that caused all the hullabaloo down at the Capitol. A rare stumble for the notoriously ethical right-wing propaganda industry.
Poor Marjorie Taylor Greene can’t seem to get her censure motions to the floor fast enough to keep ahead of the debunking of the disinformation justifying them, but she sure does like hollerin’, doesn’t she?
Indiana state Representative Jim Lucas flashed a gun at some high school kids during the impromptu debate he lost. So, y’know…the MAGA bench is deep.
Meanwhile, even Larry Kudlow has succumbed to the smooth, sensual rhythms of…Brandonomics. And who can blame him? Team Biden keeps grinding out these even-sexxier-than-expected jobs reports, and yeah, it can make you feel a little funny down in your nether regions. Little warm.
We’re told that behind closed doors, Joe refers to his once and future vanquished foe using appropriately profane language. “Sick fuck,” “fucking asshole,” “turd-gargling taintmaggot,” that sort of thing. Nothing the fact-checkers wouldn’t bless.
He likes to slide a zinger in now and then while he’s “reading Beowulf to the Ayatollah.” And then Beowulf said to Grendel, “Boy, what a bag of crusty dicks is Donald Trump, amirite?” We wouldn’t know any of this, by the way, were it not for the brave testimony of Deep State whistleblower/fast food chain mascot/actual fucking Senator John Kennedy.
Before I let you go, it’s time for what a reader charmingly referred to as the “beer grift,” wherein I, a downtrodden cockney lad without access to anything so extravagant as a Dr. Ronny Jackson, beg you, the reader, to throw a couple bucks my way, (now accepting Venmo, PayPal n’ Cash App) that I might wash away the memory of allllll this shit on a wave of sweet, merciful beer.
Or you can follow @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, or join the email list at showercapblog.com. Dedicated Shower Captives can even pre-order my WWII comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation! I’m told this is a TREMENDOUSLY IMPORTANT CUTOFF WEEK for pre-orders, so act now or know eternal regret.
Or you can say, “I don’t owe you shit, Shower Cap,” which is true. Whatever you decide, I’m gonna go crack a cold one, and read Beowulf to the Ayatollah. You stay safe out there. Don’t decapitate your parents!
So I Guess It's Down to Nikki Haley and the Rapist
Aw, man, I thought he was gonna step on a few more rakes for us, just for old times’ sake, but perhaps there’s a limit to Ron DeSantis’ capacity for public humiliation after all.
(Links, etc: https://showercapblog.com/so-i-guess-its-down-to-nikki-haley-and-the-rapist/)
Either way, bowing to reality and his sphincter-mouthed orange God, young Ronward bent the knee, on a special cushion he had custom-made to make himself appear taller. Somebody should probably check on Rich Lowry.
I have mixed feelings. I’m certainly grateful for the failure of the ideology. I’m glad there’s no viable electoral base for Kinda Efficient State-Enforced Bigotry. I’m glad we don’t have to worry about Joseph Ladapo becoming Surgeon General of anything larger.
But as a content provider for the blog site I own and operate, I fear Ron will prove irreplaceable. His contributions to the field of left-of-center schadenfreude compare favorably to the all-time greats. And don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’ll be debasing himself further as a general election surrogate, but he’s been on a hall-of-fame run, the one he’s gonna be remembered for.
Anyway.
Say, what’s that rapist been up to lately, other than running away with the Republican presidential primary? What’s that you say? Pitching fits at his latest defamation trial? But that’s what he did last week.
Anyway, now that it’s cost him 83.3 million dollars, Donald Trump may be forced to abandon a beloved hobby: terrorizing women he has assaulted sexually.
Boy, Nikki’s about to go on a ride, huh? I’m sure it’s already started.
Cuz the rapist is ready to skip straight to the coronation, and we all know how he feels about democracy. No shortage of willing accomplices in the institutional GOP, if RNC draft resolutions are any indicator.
Florida Republicans actually proposed legislation (LEGISLATION!) that would appropriate taxpayer money to pay this fucking rapist’s fucking legal bills. (Sorry, Christian Ziegler, this only applies to one, specific rapist. Bad luck.)
I’m just saying, Nikki, for your safety’s sake, these folks don’t seem t’be in the mood to hear about their golden rapist calf’s cognitive decline.
It’s more of a stamping-out-dissent vibe, if we’re honest. Threatening donors, lashing out at every criticism, however slight. Fascist imp Marjorie Taylor Greene yelping about “eradicating” the insufficiently loyal. Yeah, it’s that kind of party.
Still, nothing curdles my guts quite like the performative obsequiousness of Elise Stefanik’s audition for the Veep slot. Elise won’t think twice about delaying any dumb ol’ certifications, that’s for sure.
Given the general political climate, I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that we’re getting the Bruckheimer/Bay version of the border scare, with the cosplay cowboys running Texas breaking out the Bundy Ranch playbook, and the odd wannabe insurrectionist putting forth the call for an armed citizen militia, to be financed, surely, by the guy who draws Dilbert.
Anyway, the rapist wants the border as a campaign issue, so given devout Christian Mike Johnson’s standing “whatever the rapist wants, the rapist gets” policy, I guess Congress won’t be passing any border compromises any time soon.
Meanwhile, Joe Biden keeps presiding over all these gaudy economic milestones, but he’s still somehow running neck-and-neck with the adjudicated rapist with the Hooverian jobs record. America, get your shit together.
Well, now that they’ve passed their latest short-term CR and elected their latest short-term Speaker, I guess House Republicans’re starting notice James Comer isn’t running an impeachment inquiry so much as a “parade of embarrassments.” Yeah, Jimmy’s a real fuck-up, isn’t he? Lord knows why y’all put him in charge of anything.
Oklahoma Republicans had some state library board post to fill, and I guess the resumé with “internet bigot-slash-harassment organizer” leapt out at them, because they hired Chaya freakin’ Raichik.
Which is horrifying. Raichik is maybe the ugliest creature to spawn from MAGA culture in recent years, an insatiable, indefatigable hatemonger. Truly one of the shittiest Americans ever. And they put her on the “Department of Education Library Media Advisory Committee.” She doesn’t even live in Oklahoma. Fucking madness.
Looks like Charlie Kirk’s anti-MLK Jr. rant wasn’t just a one-off holiday special, but a mission statement for a new, even racister Turning Point USA. Good thing we’re not a racist country, Governor Haley, otherwise you might see political influencers telling their massive audiences their lives are in danger if their pilot is Black.
One of Chuck’s underlings went on white nationalist holocaust denier Stew Peters’ show, by the way, to urge violent resistance to the “Jewish-controlled” government. TPUSA feels like a frat for too-soft-for-the-Proud-Boys-but-unwilling-to-get-over-losing-the-class-presidency-to-a-girl types, but I suppose even a kakistocracy needs middle managers.
Seems the Republican-led House Ethics Committee has been looking into Matt Gaetz’s old sex-trafficking-a-minor allegations, so Matt may not be available for any library boards, alas.
I worry Peter Navarro won’t do well in prison, though he might squeak by with the ol’ find-the-toughest-gang-in-the-joint-and-offer-to-help-them-cheat-on-their-taxes ploy, I’ve seen that work in a couple movies. Actually, I bet a four-month vacation from the hecklers sounds pretty good to Pete right about now.
Wisconsin State Representative Joel Kitchens proclaimed himself Archbishop of Reproductive Science by divine right of his years as, I kid you not, a fucking veterinarian. WOW. That’s Akin-level shit, Joel, I’m sincerely impressed.
So, Ben Shapiro is rapping now. And you laugh, but “DAP” (Dry-Ass Pussy) is gonna rule summer 2024.
And with that final horror, I’ll sign off for the week. I go now to drink, excessively, to the majestic wreck of the DeSantis campaign, a congregation of assholes who could not do one fucking thing right.
(Oh, let me beg for money and attention real quick before I let you go: please follow @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, and/or sign up on the email list at showercapblog.com, and if you’re able, feel free t’donate a couple bucks to the beer fund.)
(And there’s a comic book! If you missed the Kickstarter for my WWII comic, Marguerite vs. the Occupation, you can pre-order a copy, for a limited time! It’s a nifty little book, you’ll like it.)
https://www.cexcomics.com/product/marguerite-vs-the-occupation/?attribute_pa_format=print-cover-a
Rapist Demands Immunity, Presidency (Ferret)
What we need is a new word, yes, probably a German one, that would mean “laugh-out-loud embarrassing, but in a sufficiently fascist manner as to remain unnerving.” It’s that thing we’re all sick of feeling.
(As always, it reads a little better on the blog site: https://showercapblog.com/rapist-demands-immunity-presidency/)
I could use that word right now, since it’s time to talk about the 2024 Iowa Republican presidential caucuses.
As expected, the rapist ran away with it. Republican voters sure do love their rapist. ‘Course, he’s not just any rapist, he’s the rapist who tried to end American democracy. Honestly, how could a listless pudding fondler like Ron DeSantis hope to compete?
Ron’s not quite ready to slink back to Tallahassee, so he’s going to flop around for our amusement at least through New Hampshire, which I appreciate. He might not have anyone left to talk to, cuz Nikki says from now on, she’s only gonna debate rapists she’s promised to pardon.
Ron made one last, feeble pass at the anti-vax crowd, which’ll work as well as everything else he’s tried. It’s not Long Covid you’ve got to worry about with your electorate, kid, it’s Long Horse Paste.
I guess Haley’s polling well enough in New Hampshire to merit Off-Brand Orbán’s attention, since he finally lobbed that long-expected lump of casually racist hate at her. “How dare you imply America was ever, for even a fleeting moment, a racist country!?! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a phoneful of death threats to sift through!”
Grating wokeness disliker Vivek Ramaswamy dropped out, as did normcore non-factor Asa Hutchinson. And right now, they could team up to make the greatest political documentary/buddy comedy of all time, but they won’t, and I think that’s a shame.
Asa n’ Vivek On the Road, I would watch the shit out of that. Coupla crazy kids from opposite sides of the track, searching for the MAGA-infected Republican Party’s dark heart. Having misadventures. Running out of gas while fleeing a Three Percenter rally gone wrong. I would sign up for your streaming service to watch that.
Best part of the Iowa caucuses is the wave of “Say, I’m not sure these “evangelical” fellows are entirely on the level” columns. Yep. Bit of a death cult, really. Glad you’re catching up.
Getting back to the Republican frontrapist, he spent the week harassing and re-defaming the woman he raped. I dunno, maybe they get a different Bible in red states. Maybe Jesus is a rapist in their Bible.
Anyway, this particular rapist, who is a lot of evangelicals’ favorite rapist, demands absolute legal immunity, which I get, because he’s committed…oh my god you guys, so many crimes. Including rape. The rapist who tried everything he could think of, up to and including violent insurrection, to overturn an election he lost would rather not be prosecuted.
And again, I get that. Don’t agree, but I get it. I think we should have the rule of law, and democracy, and not “whatever this one rapist wants.” I sincerely believe it’s the stronger choice.
Although…he did pass that cognitive test. Bragging, no, strutting about the cognitive test is part of the stump speech now. There Once Was a Rapist Who Passed a Cognitive Test, So We Made Him King. That’s the creation myth. Also, Maybe He Has Syphilis Now? Evangelicals, man. Wacky people.
I’m sincerely grateful to Ted Cruz for providing comic relief during the genuinely terrifying ritual of governors and senators genuflecting to a man who thinks magnets break when they get wet. He just deserves the debasement so richly. Actually, watching Ted Cruz snarf bowl after bowl of Donald Trump’s shit is probably my favorite thing about ascendant American fascism.
Ted, Rubio, Tim Scott, “Sammy the Bull” Gravano, they all agree: when it comes to the presidency, only an authoritarian rapist will do. Cool coalition. Your moms are all proud.
Well, poor, dumb Jimmy Comer got caught doctoring closed-door testimony. Again. This dolt’s master plan, by the way, is to run this same sad con, which he has fucked up every single time, on Hunter Biden. Jimmy thinks he’s good at this, you guys.
How happy was Mike Johnson to receive orders from on high to tank the Senate border compromise? “Shoot, we know how to fuck legislation up! Gettin’ pretty good at it, if I do say so m’self. It’s passing the stuff that gets us in trouble.”
In his defense, ol’ Moses did manage to lead his people to another CR, so congrats on keepin’ the government open, I guess. Hope the lock on Chip Roy’s cage holds out!
Of course, the last thing Republicans want is to actually solve any border-related problems; they’re enjoying the brownshirty new transgressiveness of the fear-mongering around the issue far too much. I find Greg Abbott’s increasingly flamboyant cruelty particularly spine-chilling.
Meanwhile, Paul Gosar is fundraising off the batshit claim that wokeism has led to the ethnic cleansing of whites from the military, a few short days after we learned about those neo-Nazi interns he hired.
Oh, and I see Charlie Kirk decided it was time for furiously subpar white boys to reclaim Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
Some Moms for Liberty types’re launching their very own charter school, which sounds like the premise of a season of American Horror Story. Can you imagine the parade of incels and mass shooters that’s gonna stumble out of a fucking MOMS FOR LIBERTY CHARTER SCHOOL?
The nerds’ll join the Federalist Society, and the jocks’ll join the Proud Boys. And let me tell you right up front, any furries in the student body will use the restroom that corresponds to both the gender and species assigned at birth.
So. Yeah. Still pretty nutty out there. ‘Swhy I drink.
This is the part where I dance you over to the digital tip jar, which I’ve styled as a “beer fridge,” as part of my adorable ”Shower Cap” persona: a lovable scamp, a drunken loudmouth who wears a bathrobe and a luchador mask and blogs for whatever reason. Now accepting Cash App, Venmo, and PayPal. Following @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter is another thing you could do. Or not do.
And if you’re feelin’ freaky, for a limited time, you can even pre-order my WWII comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation. I’m real proud of how this one turned out, so if you missed the Kickstarter, well…second chances don’t roll up every day, y’know.
The Republican Frontrunner Thinks Magnets Break When They Get Wet (Ferret)
Well, the Iowa caucuses are finally upon us, and barring a Hail Mary from the weather manipulation wing of the Haley campaign, the babbling rapist who spends his days meandering from courtroom to courtroom, pausing periodically to demonstrate, for reasons which are difficult to discern, that he doesn’t understand how magnets work, looks likely to emerge victorious.
(Makes more sense with links, promise: https://showercapblog.com/the-republican-frontrunner-thinks-magnets-break-when-they-get-wet/)
Chris Christie finally threw in the towel, and if the Never-Trumpers’ wistful eulogies overpraised his sycophant-to-very-brave-indeed-teller-of-truths conversion, well, I’m inclined to be indulgent. I doubt it’s biologically possible to contemplate what’s left of the Republican primary field without triggering a gag reflex.
Like, did Chris Cillizza even bother picking three winners and five losers from Ronnie n’ Nikki’s Aggressively Inconsequential Bicker-Off (For Distant Second Place)? Shoot, they lost the rube ratings war to Fox’s Grandpa Shits His Pants Hour with Martha MacCallum & Brett Baier.
And considering Donnie Dotard’s been stumbling around, urging bedlam and wishing for a stock market crash, while refusing to sign an oath to forsake the violent overthrow of the government, in addition to demanding legal immunity to assassinate political opponents at taxpayer expense, it sure woulda been nice if someone, anyone in the Family Values Party™️ could’ve obstructed the fascist bastard’s ascent for once.
Yeah, woulda been lovely. But no, if you want anything done in this country, you can’t send a Republican. We knew this.
I feel like we might have success running a Willie Horton-type ad, only with Roger Stone. “Here’s a recording of a dude Donald Trump pardoned, a known associate of domestic terror groups, plotting the assassination of two Congressmen.” Everyone still agrees that’s bad…right, America?
Rejuvenated by the holiday recess, Mike “Moses” Johnson strode onto the House floor, threw open the curtains, took a deep, invigorating breath…and then Chip Roy leapt from the shadows to attack his groin with a claw hammer.
I wouldn’t wish the Freedumb Caucus on anyone. In my culture, “Chip Roy” is a sort of bogeyman who lives in a hut on chicken legs deep within the Heritage Foundation, and creeps into the bedrooms of naughty little Speakers when they praise Hitler-quoting game show hosts.
You will no doubt be shocked, shocked to learn Paul Gosar staffs his congressional office with neo-Nazi interns. Since this is hardly Paul’s first offense, he’ll surely be disciplined by House GOP leadership, especially that famous anti-anti-Semitism crusader, Elise Stefanik.
Or perhaps Elise is too busy referring to violent, white nationalist Capitol rioters as “hostages” on television. Elise is auditioning to be a certain cognitive-test-passer’s running mate, y’see. Well, when you’re fleeing for your life from an incel with a nail gun, and all you get is a text saying “so what?” don’t come bitchin’ to me.
Poor, dumb Jimmy Comer held another of his sad, self-immolating “hearings,” and y’know, I thought I’d be sick of ‘em by now, but I’m not. Watching a malicious nitwit step on the same rake over and over turns out t’be endlessly entertaining. I’m already looking forward to the next one.
Clay Higgins hopped on the Ghost Bus to whatever meth den houses Tucker Carlson’s show these days, to assert the Capitol Riot was caused by more than 200 FBI infiltrators, and then he took the Ghost Bus back to the U.S. Capitol. Where he works. As a Congressman. In case you were wondering why the Lincoln Memorial has been crying tears of blood.
Some uppity journalist spoiled protofascist nepo baby Jay Ashcroft’s fantasy of kicking Joe Biden off the ballot in Missouri, no doubt earning a slot on Jay’s personal version of the fantasy gulag roster every aspiring American autocrat carries around in his head.
The High Priests of DeSantistan finally liberated the children in their charge from the spiritually corrupting influence of…the dictionary! It’s inspirational, what a small band of puritanical creeps can achieve, all while maintaining a wide variety of thrilling, criminal lifestyles on the side.
By the way, comrades, I assume everybody got the email, but just in case, quick reminder that Operation Jade Helm III: The Helmening has been indefinitely postponed, now that our most sinister, most powerful Deep State agent, Taylor Swift, has been unmasked. And we would’ve gotten away with it, too, were it not for the raw journalistic skill of that wily Jesse Watters.
That said, while I certainly support ascendant American fascism antagonizing a beloved pop star’s massive, zealously loyal fanbase, I don’t know how many “I guess somebody needs to SHAKE IT OFF yo ho!” press releases I’m going to be able to endure.
Several of MAGA Nation’s least favorite people, including Jack Smith and Judge Tanya Chutkan, have been targeted for swatting in recent weeks, because a fun, easy thing you can do in America right now is have a paramilitary strike team sent to somebody’s front door to terrorize and maybe kill them. Say, perhaps that system could use a few tweaks.
Elon Musk hired Tulsi Gabbard to create content for his flailing vanity hate site, lending credence to recent WSJ reporting about his excessive drug use. We can’t be more than six months away from the scene in the movie where he locks himself inside his private bowling alley to personally hand-delete the accounts of everyone who ever mocked him and nobody sees him for weeks at a time but the butler who delivers the diapers and pizza rolls.
Well, seems Fox kicked Mike Lindell’s ads off the air because he can’t pay his bills, so now he’s whining about getting “cancelled.” Has the pillow money finally run out? Gonna pitch a reality show where broke-ass Mike gets an apartment with equally broke-ass Rudy Giuliani.
Just a heads-up, I will be turning the blog over to Shed Mouse for the foreseeable future, in order to spend more time with my beer fridge. If you’d like to support the blog, you can always sign up on the email list, follow @john_luzar on the aforementioned vanity hate site, or even donate to the beer fund, now accepting Venmo, PayPal, and Cash App. Oh, and you can pre-order my comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation, that’d be cool.
One way or another, stay safe out there, till we meet again…
Congrats, America, It's Now Been Three Years Since Your Last Violent Insurrection! (Ferret!)
Happy Insurrectiversary, everybody! From the donning of the shamanic headdress to the theatrical reenactments of Roger Stone’s conversation with Proud Boys leader Enrique Tarrio to the cherubic bleats of the schoolchildren chanting “Hang Mike Pence! Hang Mike Pence!,” I truly love this holiday.
(Makes more sense with th’links, I promise: https://showercapblog.com/congrats-america-its-now-been-three-years-since-your-last-violent-insurrection/)
With Iowa just around the corner, it’s been predictably nauseating, watching the institutional GOP congeal in a fetid pool at the Dotard’s feet. Tom Emmer’s groveling was particularly debasing. “As someone who has been personally bullied by Donald Trump, l cannot recommend the experience highly enough. He’ll crush America’s dreams the way he crushed mine!”
It’s definitely not a cult, though.
Sure, observing the garish obsequiousness of Elise Stefanik’s ritual un-endorsement of a Republican congressional candidate who had the audacity to refer to the Grand High Gameshowhost as “arrogant,” you might say to yourself, “wow, that’s as culty as it is embarrassing, so, like, almost unendurably culty, I guess is what I’m saying,” but it’s still not a cult.
I mean, would a cult make a video like this?
Look, I’ll admit polling says most Republicans see Off-Brand Orbán as a “person of faith,” while the likes of Romney and Biden are infidels who should be burned at the stake or at the very least poked with reasonably sharp sticks, but it’s totally unfair to call it a culllllll okay, fine, it’s a cult.
A cult of personality. But a worthy personality, an admirable personality, the sort of personality that deserves worshipping, you have to grant that. It’s not as though a third of the country has pledged absolute fealty to a drooling fascist grifter who spends his days obsessively rage-posting about a woman he raped.
…wait.
Incidentally, I see Wee Don’s countin’ on his buddy Kavanaugh to make all his 14th Amendment worries disappear. C’mon, Brett, it’s what Tobin and Squi would want.
Poor Jimmy Comer always gets SUPER jealous whenever House Oversight Dems produce evidence of yet another Trump crime spree, accepting millions in bribes from foreign governments, for example. “It’s not really fair cuz they’re investigating real crimes and mine are made up,” sulked Comer, while submitting to a Jake Tapper wedgie.
Yeah, you say he didn’t qualify, but Vivek Ramaswamy didn’t wanna be in your dumb ol’ debate anyway, CNN! He’s gonna hang out with his cool new friends Alex Jones and Andrew Tate that night, they’re gonna order a pizza and play GoldenEye and sleep in sleeping bags on the basement floor and you’re definitely not invited, CNN!
Free of Vivek’s fashy yapping at last, Nikki n’ Ron can finally have that civil, nuanced discussion about which of them would pardon Trump harder, while Chris Christie furiously masturbates in the corner. Must-see TV, I’m sure.
I confess I was delighted to see the DeSantis delusion wouldn’t sputter out completely without one final, bitter burst of petulant Rich Lowry fanfic: The Media Done Ron Wrong, the tragic tale of a boy who only wanted to bring efficient, drama-free autocracy to America, brought low by the cameras that cruelly, unjustly documented the inescapable dislikability the candidate radiates at all times.
While Rich spins DeSantistan as some comfortably-shy-of-alt-right utopia, Ron’s batty Surgeon General is stumbling around, issuing official state bulletins that read like bathroom graffiti in a QAnon bar. VACCINES ARE THE LITERAL ANTI-CHRIST THEY DON’T STOP COVID ONLY APPLYING A POULTICE OF HORSE DEWORMER AND BRIDGET ZIEGLER’S BATHWATER TO YOUR BUTTHOLE CAN DO THAT.
Well, good news for anyone who’s ever wondered what happens when you bring a messianic delusion to a Jewish space laser fight: Marjorie Taylor Greene is a-feudin’ with Speaker-for-Now Mike “Moses” Johnson! Look for Mike to swiftly adopt his predecessor’s Capitulate to the Crazy Lady policy in the face of his ever-shrinking majority.
Actually, wingnut intraparty fight club culture is thriving these days, and lucky for us, it’s a spectator sport.
Like, the normie wing of the Michigan GOP is finally making a play to wrestle back control from the loons, but Kristina Karamo has barricaded herself inside a Denny’s bathroom with the party charge card, and she’s already racked up a six-figure debt on Jim Caviezel speeches, George Santos Cameos, and cheezy tots.
And it is SO fun to watch.
Almost as much fun as the mutually annihilating, acrimonious divorce between Wayne LaPierre and the National Rifle Association. I really thought those two were gonna make it. So many common interests, like children’s funerals, and racism.
Perhaps if Jesse Watters had asked his tarot-reading guest what the cards said about accusing Texas Congresscreep/maladjusted ragebeast Dan Crenshaw of insider trading, he could’ve avoided getting publicly eviscerated as a “fucking clown” and “mediocre entertainer” who “pees sitting down.” Me-OW!
If the Florida Republican Party had only paid that $2 million ransom when they had the chance, they wouldn’t be dealing with headlines about how their party Chairman, who was already under investigation for sexual assault, is now also under investigation for “video voyeurism.” This is why Aesop has that fable about the crane who gets blackmailed by that rapist tortoise.
Capitol Riot truther Maya Flores abandoned her campaign to regain her old seat in Congress, to instead enter the restaurant business, announcing the summer 2024 opening of Maya’s False Flag Ranch & Kitchen, serving only the most authentic cuisine Flores can steal and present as her own. Don’t worry, Republican voters, I’m sure she’s not lying to you about anything important.
Mike Flynn believes the United States should have one and only one religion, presumably state mandated, and I gotta say, that ranks pretty high on the list of Things Mike Flynn Should Not Be in Charge Of. This is how we wind up in Planet of the Apes scenarios, people.
It’s definitely super healthy that we’ve successfully integrated the steady drone of low-level domestic terrorism as acceptable background noise. Wave of bomb threats targeting state capitols? Dude gets arrested for threatening to assassinate a Congressman? Ho hum, wake me up when somebody opens fire inside the Colorado Supreme Court building or somethin’. Or, actually don’t. Multiple casualties, or let me sleep in.
I bet the handful of countries that failed to take advantage of Bob Menendez’s bribability are kicking themselves right now. Anyway, despite yet another superseding indictment, the blue team’s shittier, less-fun George Santos still refuses to resign, which isn’t my favorite thing.
Green Day’s guest appearance on the Two Minutes Hate allowed MAGA Nation a fleeting feeling of cultural relevance that likely didn’t survive the news that Vanilla Ice headlined the Mar-a-Lago New Year’s party.
Yeah, the culture wars’re still real, real dumb, though at least Barbara Streisand has Lauren Boebert on the run. On the other hand, The Daily Wire’s Michael Knowles’ plan, to “turn Mickey Mouse into a Nazi” could shake up the battlefield in ways we can’t foresee.
Despite heavy investment in the lucrative “white nationalist troll” demographic, the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter (where, if you’re masochistically inclined, you can follow me @john_luzar) is now worth 71.5% less than it was when a certain doltpilled narcissist overpaid for it. Which is, it goes without saying, entirely the Anti-Defamation League’s fault.
Maybe Elon should hand the reins over to someone less economically suicidal. Maybe even someone who creates prosperity, rather than obliterating it in fits of pique. Someone like, say, I dunno, Joe Biden? “C’mon Joe, you must be pretty bored with creating jobs by now, why not embrace the challenge of rescuing a billionaire tech bro from the consequences of his own shitty decisions?”
“Can’t, dork. Too busy fighting ascendant American fascism at Valley Forge. Suck an egg.”
Hey, it’s been a minute since we’ve talked about the comic books, (Hi! In addition to this blog, I write comic books sometimes, if ya didn’t know.) but I have news. MARGUERITE VS. THE OCCUPATION, which I self-published via Kickstarter thanks to y’all’s generosity, is getting a new run, published by CEX, distributed in comic shops an’ everything. Yay!
So if you missed the original Kickstarter, you can read about, and better yet pre-order MARGUERITE VS. THE OCCUPATION at this link!
Otherwise, you’re always welcome on the email list at showercapblog.com, plus we now accept donations to the beer fund by PayPal, Venmo and Cash App! I’m rather insanely thankful for all your kind support over the years. So stay safe out there, chums, we’ve got a loooooooonnnnnng election year ahead of us.
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Member since: Fri Mar 24, 2017, 07:48 PMNumber of posts: 629
