In many ways, the universe has been telling humanity the same story, over and over again, for at least half a decade now, and the moral of that story is that Nationalists Cannot Do One Fucking Thing Right, on account of the debilitating inefficiencies of their rage-warped raisin brains.
And yet, despite the clarity and the repetition, here we are once more, talking about putting Marine Le Pen in charge of a whole-ass country. And like, how many mass graves is it gonna take to drive this shit home, people? Problem-solving is not what this ideology is about.
Sigh. I would desperately like to be a member of a species that’s capable of learning.
What a colossal dumbfuck is Vladimir Putin, huh?
Just how many different ways are you lookin’ to humiliate th’Motherland on the world stage, Mr. Shirtless Cowboy Czar Man? Future historians will be unable to speak your name without shaking their heads and chuckling derisively.
Fifty fucking days into the Special Military Operation™️ that was supposed to take two, the Russian military has graduated from Retreating in Shambles to In Hindsight We Probably Shouldn’t Have Left That Black Sea Flagship Out Where Ukraine Could Sink It, so I’d say throw ‘em a party, but I think we all know Russia lacks the logistical capacity to transport cake to the front lines without losing another thousand conscripts.
The mighty Kremlin disinformation factory’s best bullshit spin on this debacle was “NUH-UH! We suck so hard we blowed up our OWN boat!,” but in fairness, after seven solid weeks of dropping bowling balls on their own feet/groins, I can’t imagine they’re at their best over there.
Meanwhile, the plan to fragment and weaken NATO is going so well, the debate on membership in Finland and Swedenhas swung from “hard nah” to “would it be tacky to include baked goods with our application packet?” which, when you think about it, is the entirely inevitable consequence of A) starting a war of aggression in Europe, and B) fucking it up this badly.
The Russkies have threatened retaliation, of course. They’re doing quite a bit of threatening these days, which, like…you and literally what army, dawg? Incidentally, y’all are the ones who decided to wander into somebody else’s country and start murdering children, so you’re not allowed to get all fussy when folks fight back.
I mean, yeah, I imagine it’s downright aggravating, watching that endless supply of Western weapons flow to the army that’s kicking your loser army’s ass, but that’s why we don’t start wars, now ISN’T IT?
‘Specially now that they’re gettin’ the good shit. While you struggle to rearrange the shabby remnants of your bungling butcher brigade, Zelensky’s shopping the most advanced arsenals in the world, on Instacart, from the comfort of Kyiv, aka That City You Completely Fucking Failed to Conquer. Twelve drummers drumming, 500 Javelins jumping, and a partridge in a fucking pear tree; they’re all headed your way, Poots.
Tucker Carlson, multi-tasking fascist beaver that he is, won’t let his content-creating obligations to Putin’s propaganda machine interfere with his existing domestic radicalization/stochastic terrorism program. It made distressingly few headlines this week, when the most watched man on cable openly, casually called upon his viewers to physically assault public school teachers. I mean, it’s no Nancy Pelosi Has Loads of Ice Cream, but in a country with a real and growing right-wing violence problem, it feels newsworthy.
Hey you guys, I’ve got a great idea: let’s get ahold of Hunter Biden’s laptop, and use it to read about the new revelationsregarding the Turd Reich’s ridiculously corrupt, multi-billion dollar dealings with the journalist-dismembering House of Saud! Or would that require too much ethical consistency?
Now that Eric Greitens’ ex-wife claims extensive documentation in support of her abuse allegations, perhaps it’s started to dawn on Missouri Republicans that a disgraced, chronically violent lunatic is not the best available fit for the open U.S. Senator gig, though I’ll concede the example set by Josh Hawley muddies the waters, standards-wise.
It’s obviously profoundly unhealthy that voters even flirted with Grody Greitens, given existing allegations, but I have to admit, I always sleep a little easier any time this flock of assholes finds a limit to the level of depravity they’re willing to accept in an elected official. Limits are our friend here.
Like their comrades in the Kremlin, America’s ultra-right extremists tend to be men of grandiose ambition, but negligible ability, which is my cutesy little way of bringing up Mark Meadows, who clearly lacks the intellectual bandwidth necessary for the life of high-stakes crime he’s chosen for himself. Still, I suppose it was kind of him to leave such a damning digital trail, demonstrating precisely how horny the likes of Mike Lee and Chip Roy were back in 2020 to join any slightly-less-batshit insurrection than the one Sydney Powell offered. Some might call these texts, “evidence of a criminal conspiracy,” because that’s what they are.
Oh, and Mark has finally been removed from the voter rolls in North Carolina, having been caught committing honey bunches of voter fraud there. Hopefully this will not be the Consequences Fairy’s last visit to the Meadows household.
I see the Marsha Blackburn Couldn’t Graduate Grade School Pageant that debuted at the recent SCOTUS confirmation hearings wasn’t some one-off thing, but merely the opening installment of what looks to be a multi-season epic. For the record, if Tennessee gets its own, private border wall, ALL the wingnut loony bins’ll want one, so I’m afraid the answer is no.
Surely some bright, enterprising 10-year-old can be found to tutor the good Senator on the basics of American civics. Shit, Tommy Tuberville could use some help in that department, now that I think of it. Actually, from disinformation spigots like Ron Johnson to autocracy enablers like Lindsey Graham, I can’t think of anybody in Mitch McConnell’sgodforsaken caucus that wouldn’t benefit from a remedial citizenship course or two.
Speaking of the world’s greatest deliberative body*, the Dotard-in-Exile endorsed carpetbagging huckster fuckwit Mehmet Oz in the competitive Republican Pennsylvania Senate primary, CUZ HE SAW HIM ON THE MAGIC BOX THAT TALKS, you see. He would endorse Tom Selleck if he could. Or Mr. Ed. Or the Hamburglar. (“He’s been treated very unfairly!”)
Somehow, this 100% foreseeable outcome caught the Pennsylvania GOP flatfooted, and folks, I feel like you’ve had ample opportunity to internalize at least the broad outlines of the Frankenstein story by now, so, y’know…sorry ‘bout your damn luck. “Wow, we took a television addict with late-stage brain rot and anointed him kingmaker, WHERE DID IT ALL GO WRONG?”
Now that the gates of kakistocracy have swung wide enough to lure Sarah freaking Palin back, the idea of vetting these candidates at all seems quaint and faintly snobbish. I mean, of course the dude who manufactures the tear gas used against Black Lives Matter protesters showed up, OF COURSE HE DID.
You creeps are under no obligation to keep propping up the utterly valueless currency that is Donald Trump’s dank, clammy endorsement, by the way. Didn’t do shit for Mo Brooks. It’s not doing shit for insider-trading milksop David Perdue, though by all means, flush half a million bucks down that toilet, kids.
Hell, Mike Pence is so desperate to wash the Trumpstank off, he’s boiling himself in holy water thrice daily, not that it’ll do the little weasel a lick of good…it gets in your fuckin’ pores, doesn’t it, Mr. Vice President? Incidentally, your erroneous belief, that you had the right to defile Heather Heyer’s memorial with your obscene presence, proves you’re too son-were-you-kicked-by-a-horse fucking stupid to be president of the late shift at Starbucks, not that there’s any conceivable political future for MAGA Judas anyway. Shut the fuck up and go the fuck away.
A routine, entirely non-controversial courthouse-renaming bill, the sort of thing even C-SPAN junkies can’t get into, erupted like a Troma film cyst, thanks to the rampaging bigotry of the feral, white nationalist cult that is the House Republican Conference. America, if you’re listening, I know inflation sucks, but the Ku Klux Klownshow is not the answer.
Oklahoma Governor Kevin Stitt signed a breathtakingly regressive abortion bill into law, no doubt daydreaming of being chosen as the lucky theocrat who gets to hold Anti Choicey Barrett’s hand when she fulfills her lifelong ambition to Make Women Legally Incubators Again. Better watch out, Kev; given recent developments in Florida and Kentucky, there’re quite a few salivating hyenas circling already.
Texas Governor Greg Abbott is so fucking thirsty for Fox News airtime that he took a tire iron to the nation’s already-battered supply chain, because the great thing about a culture war is that you wage it on yourself. In a marginally sane world, you’d expect the electorate to turn on an incumbent who abused his power to directly, intentionally harm his constituents, and indeed the whole dang economy, for the sake of a pathetic stunt that didn’t even fucking land, but as the pandemic so distressingly demonstrated, Republican voters genuinely want a Daddy who spanks.
…but not one who might be capable of answering simple questions without coming off like a drooling moron, mind. Yes, the Party of Lincoln retreated in terror from the field of presidential debates, presumably forever, which actually makes sound strategic sense, considering their frontrunner spent years bragging about passing a cognitive test.
Plus, the week saw a not-particularly-rare double serving of that uniquely American shit sandwich: the public mass shooting. I simply cannot figure out how this keeps happening in a nation where gun policy is set by sociopaths with unweaned cowboy fantasies.
Anyway, Elon Musk is attempting a hostile takeover of this blog; I’m gonna go see if I can trick him into paying in beer.You folks stay safe n’ sane out there…if you can!
*Try saying it out loud without laughing. Can’t be done.
Over at showercapblog.com, I hunger for e-mail addresses, of course. That’s the racket. Would love to see you there.