
The Fuck You Are
Just Sayin’
Right?!
The Nuremberg Caucus
If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
America’s descent into authoritarian fascism is made all the more alarming and demoralizing by the Democrats’ total failure to rise to the moment:
But what would “rising to the moment” look like? What can the opposition party do without majorities in either house? Well, they could start by refusing to continue to fund ICE, a masked thug snatch/murder squad that roams our streets, killing with impunity:
That’s table stakes. What would a real political response to fascism look like? Again, it wouldn’t stop with banning masks for ICE goons, or even requiring them to wear QR codes:
Though it should be noted that ICE hates this idea, and that ICE agents wear masks because they fear consequences for their sadistic criminality:
This despite the fact that the (criminally culpable) Vice President has assured them that they have absolute impunity, no matter who they kill:
The fact that ICE agents worry about consequences despite Vance’s assurances suggests ways that Dems could “meet the moment.”
I think Dems should start a Nuremberg Caucus, named for the Nazi war-crimes trials that followed from the defeat of German fascists and the death of their leader:
What would this caucus do? Well, it could have a public website where it assembled and organized the evidence for the trials that the Democrats could promise to bring after the Trump regime falls. Each fresh outrage, each statement, each video-clip – whether of Trump officials or of his shock-troops – could be neatly slotted in, given an exhibit number, and annotated with the criminal and civil violations captured in the evidence.
The caucus could publish dates these trials will be held on – following from Jan 20, 2029 – and even which courtrooms each official, high and low, will be tried in. These dates could be changed as new crimes emerge, making sure the most egregious offenses are always at the top of the agenda. Each trial would have a witness list.
The Nuremberg Caucus could vow to repurpose ICE’s $75b budget to pursue Trump’s crimes, from corruption to civil rights violations to labor violations to environmental violations. It could announce its intent to fully fund the FTC and DoJ Antitrust Division to undertake scrutiny of all mergers approved under Trump, and put corporations on notice that they should expect lengthy, probing inquiries into any mergers they undertake between now and the fall of Trumpism. Who knows, perhaps some shareholders will demand that management hold off on mergers in anticipation of this lookback scrutiny, and if not, perhaps they will sue executives after the FTC and DoJ go to work.
While they’re at it, the Nuremberg Caucus could publish a plan to hire thousands of IRS agents (paid for by taxing billionaires and zeroing out ICE’s budget) who will focus exclusively on the ultra-wealthy and especially any supernormal wealth gains coinciding with the second Trump presidency.
Money talks. ICE agents are signing up with the promise of $50k hiring bonuses and $60k in student debt cancellation. That’s peanuts. The Nuremberg Caucus could announce a Crimestoppers-style program with $1m bounties for any ICE officer who a) is themselves innocent of any human rights violations, and; b) provides evidence leading to the conviction of another ICE officer for committing human rights violations. That would certainly improve morale for (some) ICE officers.
Critics of this plan will say that this will force Trump officials to try to steal the next election in order to avoid consequences for their actions. This is certainly true: confidence in a “peaceful transfer of power” is the bedrock of any kind of fair election.
But this bunch have already repeatedly signaled that they intend to steal the midterms and the next general election:
ICE agents are straight up telling people that ICE is on the streets to arrest people in Democratic-leaning states (“The more people that you lose in Minnesota, you then lose a voting right to stay blue”):
The only path to fair elections – and saving America – lies through mobilizing and energizing hundreds of millions of Americans. They are ready. They are begging for leadership. They want an electoral choice, something better than a return to the pre-Trump status quo. If you want giant crowds at every polling place, rising up against ICE and DHS voter-suppression, then you have to promise people that their vote will mean something.
Dems have to pick a side. That means being against anyone who is for fascism – including other Dems. The Nuremberg Caucus should denounce the disgusting child abuse perpetrated by the Trump regime:
But they should also denounce Democrats who vote to fund that abuse:
The people of Minneapolis (and elsewhere) have repeatedly proven that we outnumber fascists by a huge margin. Dems need to stop demoralizing their base by doing nothing and start demonstrating that they understand the urgency of this crisis.
[Source]
Vomiting It All Up
The Only Thing More Powerful than Hate Is Love
Sometimes you can forget the point of it all.
It’s easy when the horrors have become commonplace to become so beaten down and disheartened by the fight that you can lose sight of why you’re doing it.
The repeated brutality and the relentless sorrows and the never-ending crises can squeeze out and suffocate your imagination, gradually rendering you unable to see a future worth walking into anymore.
And then suddenly, when you least expect it, there it is.
Suddenly, you find those long-dried-up reservoirs of hope bursting open once more.
Caught up in the throes of a stirring rhythm that you cannot resist, you find your way back.
For thirteen minutes on a football field in San Francisco, from thousands of miles away, we could see it again.
This America: diverse, creative, joyful, colorful, unified.
This America, where fear is banished, where fierce embraces find each of us, where no one is left outside.
This is it.
This is what we’re fighting like hell for.
This is why giving up isn’t an option.
And this is why centering something other than Love is the only way we lose.
Bad Bunny reminded us that in this war for the nation we’re still renovating, it is not might, or force, or eye-for-an-eye violence that will cause us to prevail; it will be our refusal to become as miserable and hateful as those we oppose.
He, a man faced for months with the undeserved scorn of tens of millions of strangers, the target of the worst poison human beings are capable of, chose not to stand upon the largest platform and fly some bitter, middle finger contempt.
He simply showed his humanity and reminded us of our own.
He refused to allow his enemies to defeat him by becoming them.
Love wins.
Words can easily feel like hollow platitudes, like empty cliches, until they aren’t.
Until they are the truest truth there is in this life.
Until we can feel them in the marrow of our bones.
Until those words towering above a beleagured multitude that has been starved of Love.
That love is what those grim-faced, joyless exclusionists are afraid of, what they are working so tirelessly to eliminate.
That’s why this was more than just entertainment, more than songs and set pieces, more than pop music and sentiment.
We cannot lose sight of who we are.
Our compassion is what makes us different.
We do wield those open, bleeding hearts they ridicule us for.
We are a people who believe that the open hand is greater than the clenched fist.
Now, I’m not so naive to believe that a 13-minute show is magic: that violent mobs of masked men are going to suddenly disappear from our streets, that the cruel and calloused hearts all around us are going to soften, that the people so addled by racism that they needed an alternative to this celebration of our commonalities are going to be moved to alter their allegiance to a monster.
In fact, witnessing such a bold and beautiful declaration of diverse coexistence will likely make those threatened by such things double down in their attacks, but that doesn’t matter.
But what I do know is that for thirteen minutes, it all became clear again.
For thirteen minutes, we could see the future.
We have had our attentions redirected, our spirits lifted, and our strength returned.
We have been reminded of the place that we might still be if we refuse to stop doing the hard work; if we continue to make sure that everyone has a place here, that everyone finds welcome, that everyone gets a chance to dance.
Over the span of thirteen minutes, Bad Bunny gave his detractors lessons in empathy, diversity, unity, and geography.
He gave the rest of us the eyes to see what we may have forgotten.
He, Love, and America won.
Monday Tiedrich
last night, so many colicky cultists completely lost their shit over Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl halftime show that America came this close to depleting the National Strategic Reserve of Binkies.
but before we get into that, let me ask you a question: why does Bobby Brainworms Jr. speak as if he were a malfunctioning beef jerky cyborg who learned the English language five minutes ago?
Fox News: “it’s Super Bowl Sunday today. it’s a snacking holiday in the US. you are— as the CEO of MAHA, uh, what would you have as a Super Bowl snack?”
Bobby Brainworms Jr.: “you know, I am on a carnivore diet so I just eat meat and ferments. and I’m very happy with that so I’m probably going to have a yogurt.”
that’s right, Bobby used ‘ferments’ as a noun — as one does when one is a fucking crackpot.
go ahead, make fun of Brainworms’ speech habits all you want — but yogurt is, in fact, an important part of Bobby’s five food groups: ferments, whale head, dead bear cub, raw sewage, and heroin.
but just imagine that Obama had been asked, back when he was president, what he was going to chow down on during the Sports Bowl — and that had answered ‘yogurt.’
the entire wingnut outrage-industrial complex would have lost their fucking minds, and screamed their heads off about ‘out-of-touch elites.’ Republicans bearing pitchforks and torches would have swarmed the White House and burned it to the fucking ground.
while we’re on the subject of chaos, we should probably check in on Turning Point USA to see how the prep work for their alternative halftime show is going.
“UPDATE: Due to licensing restrictions, we are unable to stream The All-American Halftime Show on X. Head on over to our YouTube channel tonight around 8PM ET to watch the full show.”
holy shit, what? because of ‘licensing restrictions,’ TPUSA’s dumb-ass event couldn’t be shown on Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium?
you fucking eejits. you had literal months to get your act together, and you forgot to get permission to stream it? way to respect the hallowed memory of misshapen garden gnome Charlie Kirk, you incompetent shitwits.
even if no one on not-twitter could stream it, at least the excitement within the venue was palpable.
I’m sorry, was Turning Point broadcasting from inside a strip club?
so why all the MAGA hatred for Bad Bunny? what crimes against humanity had he committed that were so egregious, Turning Point had no choice but to offer their own counter-programming?
this: he’s Latino, and he sings in Spanish!
oh my god, the horror — the horror.
also, anyone who tuned into the Super Bowl halftime show had to endure this unspeakably subversive commie-pinko message.
‘the only thing more powerful than hate is love’? what the hell?
look, Bad Bunny — if that even is your real name — MAGA hasn’t spent the last ten years hard at work transforming American into a failed fascist pesthole, only to have you fuck it all up by telling everybody there’s something better than hate.
by the way, this year’s Nobel Prize in Taking One For The Team definitely should go to Juliet Jeske, the host of Decoding Fox News podcast. she selflessly watched the entire Turning Point show, so we wouldn’t have to. she then edited it down into a two-minute highlight reel and added a commentary track. you can see it here.
The Turning Point USA Half Time show broken down into two minutes – the highs, the lows, the poor audio production and overuse of pyrotechnics. A 55-year-old man dancing around in shorts. It was everything and nothing all at once.
— Decoding Fox News (@decodingfoxnews.bsky.social) February 8, 2026 at 11:45 PM
headlining the TPUSA show was super-tasteful style icon Formerly A Kid Rock.
tell me, has Not Anywhere Close To Being A Kid Rock ever been to Epstein Island? it’s a legit question to ask, because he sure writes lyrics as if he has.
The track, “Cool, Daddy Cool” was released in 2001 and was featured in the children’s movie “Osmosis Jones” that same year. It includes the line, “Young ladies, young ladies, I like ’em underage/ See, some say that’s statutory/ But I say it’s mandatory.”
wait, a song that rhymes ‘statutory’ with ‘mandatory’ was featured on the soundtrack of a children’s movie? what numbskull greenlit that idea?
here’s a fun thing that Definitely Not A Kid said about the Olsen Twins when they were 14 years old.
“Why is every guy in America waiting on these chicks to turn 18?” he said during the appearance. “If there’s grass on the field, play ball.”
‘grass on the field’ — get it? get it?
fun true fact: Don’t Mistake Him For A Kid is also the author of a song called ‘Balls in Your Mouth.’ you’ll never guess what it’s about.
Republican family values!
is there anything more pathetically hilarious in this world than MAGA trying to cope?because nothing says ‘we’re not easily-triggered snowflakes’ more than having to create your own safe space so you don’t have to watch someone singing in Spanish.
look at these total fucking losers, playing the world’s saddest round of Things That Never Happened The Most™.
it’s estimated that 127 million people watched the Bad Bunny halftime show, and 5 million watched Turning Point’s shit-show. I’m not sure on what planet that constitutes a ‘massive victory for TPUSA’ — but you do you, MAGA.
also, I’m pretty sure that everyone who tuned in to Kid Rock caterwauling about his love for pedophilia already supports ICE.
hey, you know who wasn’t watching the Turning Point show? Dear Leader, that’s who. check out what was on the big screen at the Motel-a-Lago Super Bowl party: Bad Fucking Bunny. what the hell, Donny? you’re the MAGA King. you’re supposed to be leading by example.
look who was with Donny at his Florida golf motel last night: the Kompromat Kid himself, Lindsey Graham.
I wonder what Old Linz’s favorite Kid Rock song is.
BREAKING NEWS: 79-Year-Old Narcoleptic Fart Factory Wishes Those Damned Kids Would Turn Down That Infernal Racket.
shut the fuck up, Piggy.
doesn’t Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants sound like the angriest out-of-touch old white guy in the world? how dare the NFL force him to watch something that doesn’t conform to his extremely cramped and hateful worldview.
‘nobody understands a word this guy is saying’ — nobody except for the world’s 635 million Spanish speakers. ‘the dancing is disgusting’ — hey Donny, is this you, jacking off two invisible giraffes?
and why won’t Bad Bunny sing about how great the stock market is doing? why won’t Bad Bunny do anything about the NFL’s kickoff rule? THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER, BAD BUNNY.
and so today’s hero of the day is, quite obviously, Bad Bunny himself — because anyone who can get this many dumbfucks to shit themselves raw over a sportsball entertainment show is okay in my book.
this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:
practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.
to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.
we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.
For Those Of You Who Haven’t Seen It
This is what’s causing Magat heads to explode.
Good.
The More You Know
For those who don’t contain a vast knowledge of Green Day lore like myself, I don’t think it is hitting just how much of a “fuck you” the NFL is giving DJT/The White House.
This is a band that is:
Made entirely of openly bisexual/queer men.
Made entirely of men who are vocal about being raised by single mothers on welfare.
One of their members was adopted and raised by a Black woman and has said he “understands how his mother could hate ‘the white man’ and love him with her whole soul.”
Were the first band to say, “No Trump, No KKK, No Fascist/MAGA U.S.A.” on live television without ANY warning.
Literally released a song last year called, “The American Dream Is Killing Me”
Only hires ALL FEMALE bands to open for them to address inequality in the music industry.
OPENLY tells trump supporters they are not welcome at their concerts.
Anyway, Enjoy Feb. 8th Magats! You’re gonna hate it.
[Source]
It’s Not A Time Shift
Psychologists say time itself began to feel different after 2000. Then it shifted again after 2020. Not because the world suddenly moved faster, but because the human brain stopped recording life in the same way.
Before 2000, life had a natural rhythm.
Seasons felt unique. Years felt separate. Childhood felt long for a reason.
Your brain was truly present.
After 2000, something quietly changed. Not the clock. The brain.
Internet. Email. Smartphones. Endless scrolling.
Constant stimulation flatted our sense of memory.
Researchers from Stanford and UCLA discovered that when the brain is overloaded, it struggles to form deep memories, and fewer memories make time feel shorter.
Your brain silently concludes that nothing important happened.
So entire years begin to blur together.
Ping. Scroll. Switch. Refresh.
Every interruption breaks mental continuity. Your brain can no longer build long timelines. Days feel chaotic. Years feel missing.
The pandemic didn’t just disrupt routines. It reshaped how we experience time. Stress. Fear. Uncertainty. Isolation. Monotony. All at once.
Under constant stress, the prefrontal cortex stops planning. The hippocampus stops storing memories. The nervous system shifts into survival mode. The result? Days blue, weeks disappear, and years merge into one.
People everywhere report the same feeling: 2020 feels like yesterday. Everything since then feels like a single long year. I feel years older than I should. You are not imagining it.
Time slows down when life is full of novelty: new places, new faces, new challenges. After 2020? Less travel, less change, less variation. No novelty means fewer memories. Fewer memories mean less sense of time.
Stress doesn’t just blue the past. It also compresses the future. Studies show stress makes people feel older, lose long-term vision, believe time itself is running out. The brain becomes trapped in the present moment.
Time feels faster when the rain is overwhelmed, stressed, under-stimulated, fragmented, and disconnected. Time itself never changed. Our ability to experience it did.
We now live in a world of information overload, low novelty, high stress, and constant distraction. The perfect formula for life to feel unreal.
That’s why the 2000s flew by. The 2010s faced away. And the 2020s feel like a blur.
Here is the hopeful truth: you can expand time again. The brain slows time when it experiences novelty, presence, deep focus, emotion, adventure, and meaning.
-
- Psychologists suggest simple changes:
- Do fewer things with deeper focus.
- Turn off constant notifications.
- Seek real and new experiences.
- Change your surroundings.
- Create clear memory moments.
- Reduce ongoing stress.
An intentional life feels longer.
Time never actually sped up. The world didn’t suddenly distort. Our brains simply stopped fulling living. And to feel time gain, we must relearn how to truly live again.
[From an Instagram post I failed to properly document.]
Sunday Tiedrich
everything fucking sucks right now, so let’s just take a moment to savor JD Vance getting the shit booed out of him at the Winter Olympics opening ceremony in Italy.
announcer: “there’s the vice president, JD Vance and his wife Usha— oops, those are not— uh, those are a lot of boos for him.”
we all saw this coming. imagine being so universally loathed that the International Olympic Committee has to beg everyone not to heckle you.
The International Olympic Committee was forced to ask fans not to boo the U.S. delegation led by Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio during Friday’s opening ceremony for the Milano Cortina Winter Games.
is it any wonder that Mr. Heartbeat Away gets booed everywhere he goes? he pretty much goes out of his way to be as unpleasant as possible. look at the embarrassing spectacle Couchfuck creates as he leaves the Milan Prefecture after meeting with Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni.
forty — forty! — armored vehicles completely clog the narrow streets of Milan, bringing everyday life to a standstill.
it takes an entire four and a half minutes for every one of JD’s vehicles to clear the building and clownfuck their way into local traffic.
Vance treats the streets of Milan the same way he treats a couch. he’s just going to ram it in there — and if anyone doesn’t like it, that’s just too damned bad.
it’s all so unnecessary — because watch what happens once all that bullshit runs its course: out comes Lauren Ware, the wife of US Ambassador Tillman Fertitta — on foot. no pomp, no circumstance, and no dumbfuck motorcade.
one person with a small security team — as happens when you’re not such a ginormous piece of shit that everyone can’t wait to heckle you.
because Lauren Ware doesn’t make a point of being an asshole, she can wander wherever she wants — while JD Vance can’t even walk through Union Station in Washington DC without people screaming ‘GO FUCK A COUCH’ at him. remember this, from last August?
“oh look, it’s Couchfucker. you gonna fuck a couch, buddy? GO FUCK A COUCH, JD VANCE, GO FUCK A COUCH!”
JD’s motorcade was so disruptive that he almost fucked up the American figure skating team’s chances of competing.
MILAN — The start of the women’s short program at the Olympic figure skating team event was drawing close Friday afternoon, but American star Alysa Liu couldn’t get to the Milano Skating Arena. She and her coach and choreographer were stuck on an official Olympic bus, blocked from the arena parking lot by the motorcade of Vice President JD Vance, who attended the team event. “We almost didn’t make it,” Liu’s coach, Phillip DiGuglielmo, later said.
ace job, you dumb-ass.
imagine training for years to compete in the Olympics — and almost missing your one shot at glory because some furniture-fucking asshole is on an ego trip.
could someone please remind JD that his job is to stand over there and wave a flag and clap for our Olympians, and not be the constant chaotic center of attention?
for fuck’s sake, he even brought his own food with him. who does that?
A cargo plane transported food from the United States for the delegation, while two other planes brought armored vehicles to be used during official movements.
come on — Couchfuck is in Milan — one of Europe’s greatest cultural centers. shouldn’t he be taking advance of the experience? I sure as shit would. what’s the issue, JD — are there no doughnut shops in Milan?
let’s find out. because I’m a responsible journalist and everything, I googled ‘doughnut shops in Milan’ — and guess what:
so what was JD’s problem? how hard would it have been for him to learn enough of the native language to say ‘how long have you been selling doughnuts? HA HA! that’s great’?
look, JD — I’ve done all the hard work for you, via Google Translate.
‘da quanto tempo vendi ciambelle? AH AH, fantastico.’
you’re welcome, bro. it’s called being a responsible journalist.
thanks to Donny and his henchmen, the whole world hates us now. we’re the playground bullies of the planet, kidnapping a leader here, threatening to invade there, and just plain tariffing everywhere.
or, like Couchfuck McGee in Milan, we’re just creating ego-driven chaos for chaos’ sake — because fuck you, that’s why. none of these shitwits are big on consent.
it’s all so fucking embarrassing.
President Donald Trump’s team offered to unfreeze federal funding for the paused Gateway tunnel project if Democrats in Congress agree to rename Penn Station and Washington Dulles International Airport after him, according to someone with direct knowledge of the negotiations.
only weak and fragile fuckwits need this kind of constant affirmation.
if Donny is that horny to have his name on something, might I suggest the Donald J. Trump Federal Correctional Institution?
let’s guess who could be its very first inmate.
and now for your heroes of the day: the voters of Louisiana’s 60th district, where Democrats flipped a State House seat in a deeply red state.
Louisiana Democrat Chasity Verret Martinez defeated her Republican opponent by double digits in the special election Saturday night for a state House seat in a district President Trump won by 13 points in 2024.
Martinez won 62% of the vote compared to 38% for her Republican opponent, Brad Daigle, according to unofficial results from the Louisiana Secretary of State.
in 2024, Donny won this district by 13 points. just fifteen months later, Democrat Chasity Martinez’s crushed her Republican opponent by double digits — a 37-point swing from red to blue.
in special election after special election, Democrats keep prevailing by significant margins. that’s how fucking radioactive Donny and his fascist policies have become.
there’s a blue wave a-comin’.
this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:
practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.
to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.
we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.
Especially Since 2016…
That’s Why He Loves The Poorly Educated
Vomiting It All Up
Tiedrich Thursday
imagine you’re a war correspondent for a major American newspaper. you’ve been assigned to cover the war in Ukraine. conditions totally fucking suck. there’s no heat, electricity or running water.
but you’re not bothered by any of that shit. you love your job — because it’s enthralling. there’s nothing else like it in the world.
now imagine you’re in the middle of doing all that, when out of the clear blue, you get an email telling you that your job’s gone fuckity-bye.
if you’re Washington Post reporter Lizzie Johnson, you don’t have to imagine — because that’s exactly what just happened.
“I was just laid off by The Washington Post in the middle of a warzone. I have no words. I’m devastated.”
oh, lovely. how the fuck is Lizzie Johnson supposed to find her way home? what the hell?
and it wasn’t just Johnson who got told her job had been sent to a big farm upstate, where it will have lots of room to run around. over three hundred of her Post colleagues got shitcanned yesterday morning.
here’s just some of the carnage: metro DC news, cut way back. the sports section, gone. book and theater reviews, gone. podcasts, gone.
but perhaps most egregiously, they’re cutting their foreign bureaus. if you want to know what’s happening in places like Kyiv or the Middle East, don’t look at the Post. it’s no longer their responsibility.
how the fuck can you even call yourself a major newspaper if you’re not covering what’s going on in the world? this is the Washington Fucking Post we’re talking about, not the Podunk Pennysaver.
here’s how devastating the cuts were: Peter Finn, WaPo’s International Editor, demanded he be fired on the spot, rather than take any part in this fuckery.
Peter Finn, the section’s editor, requested that he be laid off rather than be involved in planning the cuts once he learned about their scope, according to two people with knowledge of his decision.
the Washington Post’s corporate overlords claim they had no choice but to make these cuts, because the paper lost over one hundred million dollars last year. but these same overlords want to make one thing perfectly clear: these mass firings are actually good news.
do you want to know the real reason the Post is doing this? it’s because they love you — the reader — so much!
I shit you not. check out this dollop of industrial-strength bullshit-speak.
“The Washington Post is taking a number of difficult but decisive actions today for our future, in what amounts to a significant restructuring across the company,” the Post said in a statement. “These steps are designed to strengthen our footing and sharpen our focus on delivering the distinctive journalism that sets The Post apart and, most importantly, engages our customers.”
oh, I see. the Post is gutting its staff and reducing its coverage in order to make it all better. sure, now that you’ve explained it, that makes perfect sense to me.
there are really only two words that come to mind when faced with this level of piss-on-your-head-and-tell-you-it’s-raining corporate-ese. the first one rhymes with fuck, and the second with you.
let’s lay the blame for this atrocity exactly where it belongs: at the feet of Jeff Bezos, the Donny-snuggling gazillionaire who laughs like some fucked-up cartoon villain.
it was Bezos’ own disastrous decisions that led to the Post bleeding money.
first, a week before the 2024 election, Bezos phoned up the editor of the Post and told him not to run their planned endorsement of Kamala Harris. Bezos didn’t want to make Donny mad, just in case he happened to win. hundreds of thousands of angry Post subscribers canceled their subscriptions in response.
then, in February 2025, Bezos announced the Post was no longer going to tolerate ‘left of center views’ on their editorial page. instead, they were going to focus on ‘personal liberties and free markets.’ once again, hundreds of thousands of subscribers canceled their subscriptions.
why would Bezos deliberately antagonize his readership? because doesn’t give a shit. he’d rather curry favor with his new despot snugglebunny, Donny Convict.
Jeffrey Beez is not a newspaper guy. he doesn’t bleed black ink, as the saying used to go. he’s a business honcho. the Post is a just line item on a spreadsheet.
listen to your Uncle Bernie Sanders.
“If Jeff Bezos could afford to spend $75 million on the Melania movie & $500 million for a yacht to sail off to his $55 million wedding to give his wife a $5 million ring, please don’t tell me he needed to fire one-third of the Washington Post staff. Democracy dies in oligarchy.”
democracy dies up Jeff Bezos’ ass.
let’s be clear here. Bezos spends his money like a drunken sailor. he flushed $75 million down the shitter on that bogus ‘documentary’ about Dear Leader’s Slovenian rent-a-wife — and didn’t think twice about how much it cost. sixty million got pissed away on a wedding for his personal flotation device.
Jeff Bezos’ current net worth is TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-ONE BILLION DOLLARS. think about this: Bezos could give every person on the planet a billion dollars each, and have $253 billion left over. that’s still more money than he could possibly spend in his lifetime.
the hundred mil that the Post lost is a rounding error to someone with that much moolah.
if he wanted to, he could personally fund the Post and give it away for free — and not even notice the money missing from his bank account.
fuck it, Bezos could sell the Post to someone who would care about putting out a quality product — but he won’t. he’d rather destroy it. owning some hallowed institution and clownfucking into irrelevance is the hip new thing. all the cool oligarchs are doing it.
I swear, these morbidly wealthy shit-kazoos are so easy to hate. and they wonder why people walk around wearing Eat The Rich t-shirts.
heroes, that’s what we’re in desperate need of right now.
no one ever went to bed with fascism and came up smelling like roses. no one ever said ‘gee, I’m so glad the Washington Post partnered with Nazis.’
fascist regimes come, and fascist regimes go. when this current nightmare finally runs its course, no one is going to say ‘wasn’t it awesome how Jeff Bezos slobbered all over Dear Leader’s ass?’
the people we’re going to look back on with admiration are the ones who stood up said ‘take your Nazi bullshit and stick it where the sun don’t shine.’
which bring us to today’s hero of the day: Jordan Perry, the manager of the Lake Theater & Cafe in Lake Oswego, Oregon.
Perry booked the Melania ‘documentary’ into his theater (as a bit of a joke, he explained in a blog post) — and he advertised it with a marquee that read ‘to defeat your enemy, you must know them. Melania starts Friday.’
apparently this caused heads to explode all over the Amazon corporate offices, and they angrily pulled the film from Perry’s theater.
undaunted, Perry changed his marquee to ‘Amazon called. our marquee made them mad. all Melania shows canceled. show your support at Whole Foods instead :(’
in a world of Jeff Bezoses, be someone who antagonizes the shit out of Jeff Bezos.
meanwhile, if any of you know of any war-correspondent jobs that are available right now, you’d really be doing Lizzie Johnson a solid.
this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:
practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.
to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.
we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.
Right?!
Vomiting It All Up
I Won’t Crap Out
From Blobby, because he expressed this so much better than I could:
I don’t know if this is true or not – nor do I care.
MAGA and the GOP are fine with making up stories and lies to further whatever agenda they might have – or just for the fun of it.
But it is said that BLOTUS became VonShitzinPantz a few days back – in the oval office filled with people.
There is allegedly auditory and olfactory “evidence” of this event.
I hope to g-d it’s true.
Say what you will about Pappy Joe and his age, I never heard that he fell asleep in meetings or behind the desk, let alone crapped his trousers.
It got me thinking how many identical suits, shirts and ties VSP has in closets all over the White House. Plus the power washer to clean out that crevASSe. Oh, and the incinerator to put all those Depends and bio-hazard bags into the fire.
I mean you know he probably shits himself several times per day. So, there has to be this huge wardrobe and on-site dry cleaner working 24/7 – though they probably LOVE it when he goes golfing. Open the windows and air the place out.
I understand they do (or can) change out the carpet in the oval office – and I hear it matters which way the eagles head is facing and which talon holds the arrows et al. But now, they probably just have to swap that out now and again to Bissell the fecal stains out of the fibers.
Truth be told, I did search out the video, but I couldn’t hear “the accident”. Though people in the room were ushered out quickly.
g-d, I’d love to see the résumé of these aides whose sole job it is to scoot people out of harm’s way.
And let us remember that years ago Bob Woodward already let the world know this.
Happy Birthday, Miss M!
Tick, Tock, You Fucking Nazi!
Sometimes you don’t have to work to figure out where the racists are. Sometimes they out themselves.
Back in the Fall, within nanoseconds of the NFL announcing that Latin rapper Bad Bunny would be performing the Super Bowl Halftime Show, the Trump cult tore itself away from Charlie Kirk martyrdom, MAGA church shooter retcons, restaurant logo crusades, and pro-ICE posturing to launch into a full-on frenzy of performative histrionics in protest.
Since then, they’ve continued their tortured pearl-clutching unabated, with the white supremacist stalwarts at Turning Point USA recently announcing an “alternative” halftime show (called, of course, The All-American Halftime Show), featuring Olympic-level cultural appropriator-turned MAGA bootlicker Kid Rock and an undercard of similarly pigmented, patriotism-peddling, Bible-brandishing, shameless deep South virtue signalers.
You see the “alternative” they’re offering here, right?
If you’re over 25 and, like many older white folks, have remained permanently trapped in the amber of Classic Rock radio, you may have never even heard of Bad Bunny, whose birth name is Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio. (I’d be willing to bet my house that 90 percent of the Conservatives who are currently rending their garments online hadn’t, either.)
Born and raised in Puerto Rico (which a terrifying number of MAGAs don’t seem to know is an American territory), his father was a truck driver and his mother a school teacher. He spent his formative years singing in the choir in a Roman Catholic Church his family attended, and began writing his own music at the age of 14. Bunny was signed to a record label at the age of 20 after being discovered online.
Today, Bad Bunny is an international superstar, the second most-streamed artist of all time, with 100 billion streamed songs. He is a multiple Grammy winner, has crossed over into professional wrestling and acting, is a coveted brand ambassador, and does millions of dollars in philanthropic work through his Good Bunny Foundation (Fundación el Buen Conejo), which he started in 2018.
Ocasio is the literal embodiment of the American Dream that the GOP has spent decades waving in our faces and flying up the flagpole.
So, what’s the problem?
Let’s just say it’s primarily a melanin issue, with a side order of MAGA cultism, a heaping portion of Christian nationalism, and a healthy dash of homophobia thrown in.
As a self-described gender-fluid Latin musician who sings predominantly in Spanish, has previously criticized Donald Trump, and repeatedly lamented the inhumanity of ICE as recently as during his Grammy acceptance speech last week, Ocasio must be condemned, vilified, and eradicated because membership in the mindless death cult of white American intolerance they now call home requires it. This asinine mob mentality vitriol is what Trump’s movement has fostered and fomented, and what it demands.
Ocasio opened his recent Grammy speech with these words:
“Before I say thanks to God, I’m going to say: ICE out,” he said. “We’re not savages. We’re not animals. We’re not aliens. We are humans, and we are Americans.”
This is supposed to be what America stands for: decency, diversity, humanity, and yet it is precisely the message MAGA is burdened to shout down and suffocate.
The fact that the Right feels compelled to create an “alternative” to Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl appearance speaks eloquently about their desire to secede from a culturally and racially diverse nation, how committed they are to perpetuating the myth of oppressed white Christians, and how determined they are to manipulate every event into a racist holy war in order to keep their rank-and-file foaming at the mouth.
Turning Point USA spokesman Andrew Kolvet said in a statement that the show “is an opportunity for all Americans to enjoy a halftime show with no agenda other than to celebrate faith, family, and freedom.”
But whose faith are they celebrating?
Not the spiritual beliefs of Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Sikhs, Unitarians, or non-MAGA Evangelical Christians.
Whose family are they talking about?
Not Latino families, or black families, or immigrant families, or LGBTQ families, that’s for damn sure.
And exactly whose freedom will take center stage on Sunday?
Not the people with brown skin being relentlessly terrorized by ICE, not the thousands of sexual assault survivors brutalized by Jeffrey Epstein and his collaborators, not the tens of millions of women who deserve autonomy over their own bodies, and not the migrants and refugees being persecuted by these cosplaying Christians.
The Turning Point halftime show, like every venture in the MAGA/Trump ecosystem, is a grim, sinister, mean-spirited fight against progress, evolution, and diversity disguised as sincere virtue.
This isn’t about Bad Bunny.
This isn’t about a halftime show.
It’s about who we collectively want to be, the kind of nation we dream of living in, and the future we want those who follow us to inherit.
It’s about the cost of standing up to the bullies, of rejecting racism, of being intolerant of intolerance.
This is about what we will demand and what we will not accept when it comes to the rights and voices of people of color.
Trump and his supporters don’t want an alternative halftime show; they want an alternative white, gated community nation where only they benefit.
In these days, we are in a brutal battle for an America where everyone will find opportunity, safety, and welcome.
It’s time we all got in the game.
Vomiting It All Up
And So Begins Another Week…
OH MY GOD, YES! Go ahead and sue, you orange bag of shit. Discovery will force the release of all the Epstein documents!
it’s one o’clock in the morning. the world’s most-fragile diaperload is awake — and he’s melting all the way down on his shithole app.
oh dear, it seems that someone’s hurt the colicky rage-baby’s fragile fee-fees again.
The Grammy Awards are the WORST, virtually unwatchable!
and yet the stupid shit sat there and monitored the whole thing, so he could find out if anyone was talking about him. and, sure enough—
Noah said, INCORRECTLY about me, that Donald Trump and Bill Clinton spent time on Epstein Island. WRONG!!! I can’t speak for Bill, but I have never been to Epstein Island, nor anywhere close.
now, because I’m a responsible journalist and everything, I googled ‘where is Epstein Island,’ and I learned that it’s a tiny island within the Virgin Islands, and its actual name is Little Saint James Island.
according to Donny, he’s never been ‘anywhere close’ to Epstein Island. so he’s never been to Christmas Cove, and he’s never been to the St. Thomas Ritz-Carlton — and he’s never been to Chocolate Hole, which, I’m sorry, but that definitely sounds like a place Donny’s been.
Donny’s handlers should never let him watch awards shows. he always ends up cranky, because he absolutely cannot deal with seeing other people receive awards — awards which, in his impaired mind, should rightfully be going to him. never mind that the Grammy awards are for music, and Donny’s only contribution to that field is the pungent aroma of ass music he creates every time he falls asleep in public. where’s Donny’s Grammy, goddammit!
FIFA could actually be doing the world a huge solid right now, by announcing that Donny has won their FIFA Music Award for Most Melodious Farts, and then invite him on stage to hang another dumb-ass medal around his neckgina.
because that would shut him the fuck up for at least a day or so.
by the way, this is Trevor Noah’s joke that had Donny power-loading all the diapers.
“that is a Grammy that every artist wants… almost as much as Trump wants Greenland. which makes sense, I mean, because Epstein’s island is gone, he needs a new one to hang out with Bill Clinton, so…”
big fucking deal, am I right? it was one throwaway laugh-line in an hours-long broadcast full of throw-away laugh-lines. any normal person would have heard it and then gotten on with their lives — but we’re not talking about a normal person. we’re talking about the most broken-inside burst trash bag of personality defects ever. so, naturally —
Noah, a total loser, better get his facts straight, and get them straight fast. It looks like I’ll be sending my lawyers to sue this poor, pathetic, talentless, dope of an M.C., and suing him for plenty$.
Donny’s gonna sue the shit out of Trevor Noah, for ‘plenty$’ dollars — as one does, when one is the thinnest-skinned bastard ever to walk the face of the earth.
he’s such a fucking embarrassment, throwing childish tantrums in the middle of the night, and siccing his lawyers on a comedian, for telling jokes.
oh, and let me just put this here, for no particular reason.
“nobody gets angrier than a narcissist being accused of something they definitely did.”
now, because I’m still wearing my Responsible Journalist hat, I looked it up. the internet tell me that’s a quote from Omar Hussain’s ‘Thoughts and Feelings, Volume One’ — but the internet also tells me that such a book doesn’t exist.
what the fuck? can I borrow one of Donny’s ace team of parking garage lawyers and sue the shit out of the internet?
Omar Hussain is real. maybe I’ll sue him.
so, for those of you keeping score at home, Donny is suing Trevor Noah. at the same time, he’s suing The New York Times — also for hurting his feelings.
Donald Trump has said he is expanding his defamation suit against the New York Times after an unfavorable opinion poll.
He wrote: “The Times Siena Poll, which is always tremendously negative to me, especially just before the Election of 2024, where I won in a Landslide, will be added to my lawsuit against The Failing New York Times.”
fuck me, Donny’s not only a sore loser — he’s a sore winner. and if this ‘I’m suing you for bad polling’ business sounds familiar, that’s because he’s also suing the Des Moines Register for — you guessed it — hurting his feelings
A Polk County district court judge heard arguments Friday about whether President Donald Trump’s lawsuit against the Des Moines Register can move fo
rward.
Trump sued over a November 2024 poll that found likely voters preferred then-Vice President Kamala Harris over Trump days before he won the election and carried Iowa by 13 points.
His lawsuit says the poll is consumer fraud.
my god. could people please stop hurting Dear Leader’s precious fee-fees? we’re in grave danger of depleting our National Strategic Reserve of Lawyers.
and then there’s Donny’s lawsuit against the IRS. he’s demanding they pay him TEN BILLIONS OF PLENTY$ for that time a former IRS contractor leaked years of Donny’s tax returns to the media — hurting his feeling in the process by revealing that for years, the cheater got away with paying only $750 in taxes.
President Donald Trump is suing the IRS and the Treasury Department for $10 billion, alleging they failed to take necessary steps to prevent a former IRS employee from improperly disclosing his tax returns, and those of his sons and his company, to news outlets.
The Times published exclusive reporting in 2020 that showed Trump had paid only $750 in federal income taxes in 2016 and 2017.
of course, this lawsuit is pure corruption at its finest. Donny is basically suing his own administration. no way they’re going to fight this fucking lawsuit in court. the current head of the IRS is Frank J. Bisignano — one of Donny’s cronies. Soybean Scott Bessent is the Acting IRS commissioner. these loyal flunkies are going to roll over and hand Donny whatever he wants.
Donny’s come up with an all-new way of funneling money from the Treasury, straight into his greedy pockets — by suing the shit out of, basically, himself.
don’t you wish Dear Leader would work this hard to make life easier for average American? you get two dolls and five pencils, while Donny uses the US Government as his own personal ATM.
and don’t forget that Donny’s also suing his own Department of What Used To Be Justice, because that mean old poopy-head Jack Smith hurt his feelings by trying to convict Donny for the very real crimes of insurrecting and stealing state secrets.
I mean, what’s the point of even being president, if you can’t rob the country blind, and enrich yourself at the public’s expense?
isn’t it great how Dear Leader has combined two of his favorite activities — filing nuisance lawsuits, and forever grifting — into one neat and tidy profit center?
who says America isn’t the land of opportunity?
and now, it’s hero time.
yesterday, Texas Congressman Joaquin Castro traveled to the hellhole detention center where five-year-old Liam Ramos and his father Adrian were being confined, and personally escorted them back home to Minnesota.
thank you, Congressman.
in any sane country, it wouldn’t requite the concerted effort of a government official to spring a five-year-old from prison. but like the man says, shitty timelines gonna shitty timeline.
this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:
practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.
to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.
we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.
Every. Damn. One. Of. Them.
Last Summer…
…the Tarot card readers (yeah, yeah I know) that I occasionally stumble across on YouTube warned that when all this Epstein shit came all came out it would be much, much worse than we ever imagined. It seems that—unlike their predictions for a landslide victory for Kamala Harris—they were right about this.
Just when I think I can’t hate him any more than I already do, I constantly find myself re-evaluating that stance.

































































































































































































