Monday Tiedrich

Donny Convict is bugfuck nuts.

you know it, and I know it — but do you know who else knows it? all the president’s flunkies. they have to continually come up with new ways to deal with his crazypants shit on a daily basis.

here’s a perfectly normal thing that happened with our perfectly normal president.

recently, Donny was acting so erratically while military leaders were planning a rescue operation in Iran, that big strong aides with tears in their eyes had to go up to him and say, ‘sir! sir! why don’t you go play in traffic?’

I shit you not. according to a report in the Wall Street Journal, Donny actually got banned from the command room.

Aides kept the president out of the room as they got minute-by-minute updates because they believed his impatience wouldn’t be helpful, instead updating him at meaningful moments, a senior administration official said.

that’s right: Donny’s handlers had to keep him far away from what was going on, because he was so out of control that they were afraid he would fuck everything up.

can you imagine any other president in recent memory getting eighty-sixed from the center of operations? no, you can’t. it’s practically unthinkable.

here’s how that shit went down. remember that Good Friday incident, when Iran shot down an American jet, and nobody knew what had happened to the pilots? it turns that when he was given the news, Donny shat a massive brick

It was Good Friday afternoon in a nearly empty West Wing soon after the president learned that an American jet had been shot down in Iran, with two airmen missing. Trump screamed at aides for hours.

because everyone knows that the best way to motivate your staff is to get right up into their faces and just fucking unload on them for hours on end. Donny really is the boss from hell.

am I the only one getting ‘Hitler in the bunker’ vibes from Donny’s meltdown?

oh my god, can you imagine having this colicky piss-baby screaming at you for literal hours? no amount of money in the world could be worth having the rancid fecal-breath of that malignant toad being blown in your face as you endured the latest in an infinite series of dressing-downs — not to mention all the hurled ketchup bottles one would eternally be ducking.

seriously, you couldn’t pay me enough. if it were me on the receiving end of one of Donny’s tirades, I’d be all ‘how about you go fuck yourself, Shouty Boy?’

do know why Donny completely lost his shit? because he was worried that news of a downed jet would make him look bad.

“If you look at what happened with Jimmy Carter…with the helicopters and the hostages, it cost them the election,” Trump had said in March. “What a mess.”

picture it: generals with actual combat experience are trying to figure out the best way to bring pilots back from behind enemy lines, and this fucking lunatic is screaming about Jimmy Carter and the price of gas, as if an entire rescue operation was all just some big plot to inconvenience him — because Donny always has to make everything about himself.

oh, and get a load of this.

At one point he even mused he should award himself the nation’s highest military honor, the Medal of Honor.

FOR WHAT? my god, everyone who had to sit there and eat Donny’s shit while he screamed at them without end, they’re the ones who deserve the Medal of Honor.

sorry, Donny — you don’t get a Medal of Honor. what you get is the Four Seasons Total Prancing About Like A Complete Unhinged Fuckface Prize.

just to remind everyone, here’s how a president is supposed to act during a critical military operation.

that was Obama, in the Situation Room while Osama bin Laden was being taken out. notice how he’s not screaming in anyone’s faces about GET THIS FUCKING THING DONE ALREADY. nor is he ranting and raving about how bad he’ll look if shit goes sideways. he’s just a calm, rational dude.

but now we’ve normalized crazy. Donny pulls this childish crap on a daily basis, making a mockery of sane governance, and everyone is all just ‘well, okay. that happened.’

here’s a fun thing for All The President’s Toadies to consider: if you can ban a president from a command room for being too much of a raging lunatic, you can 25th Amendment him from the presidency for the exact same reason.

this deranged fucking maniac is back to calling for the complete destruction of Iran’s infrastructure.

“We’re offering a very fair and reasonable DEAL, and I hope they take it because, if they don’t, the United States is going to knock out every single Power Plant, and every single Bridge, in Iran. NO MORE MR. NICE GUY!”

no more mister nice guy? when was Preznit Fuckwit ever a nice guy?

and oh look, now Donny’s doing his usual Sunday afternoon market manipulation, claiming out of the clear blue that he’s on the verge of another deal with Iran — and, once again, the press dutifully reports it without first bothering to ask Iran if it’s true.

spoiler alert: it’s not true.

all of this is bugfuck nuts. in the span of hours, Donny pinballs from threatening to blow everything sky high, to calmly announcing another imaginary deal.

none of this is normal — and all of it is insane.

here’s a serious question for Donny’s handlers: what’s the plan here? for everyone to just cross their fingers and hope Donny doesn’t eventually call for nukes? are they just hoping Donny somehow magically gets better?

free clue: Donny isn’t going to get better. dementia doesn’t magically cure itself overnight. neither does malignant narcissism, or delusions of grandeur, or compulsive lying, or the need to be worshiped, or any of the thousand pathologies and personality defects that Dear Leader suffers from.

he’s just going to get worse. today, it’s banning Donny from the command room. what’s Dear Leader going to need to be prevented from doing tomorrow?

so let’s go. 25th Amendment now. it’s the only rational solution to the problem of an insane chief executive.

we’ll take our chances with the furniture fucker.


happy Kash Patel is Suing The Atlantic Day to all who observe.

here’s Two-Drinks-Minimum Kash yesterday, shitfaced as usual on Maria Bartiromo’s show.

Maria Bartiromo: “the Atlantic Magazine is alleging that you have a drinking problem. what is your response this morning to this article?”

Krazee-Eyes Kash: “the results, I say, speak for themselves. if the fake news mafia isn’t hitting you personally with baseless information in Washington DC, then you’re not going you job. and it’s louder than ever, because this FBI, under President Leadership …”

Kash goes on to filibuster Bartiromo’s question for a solid two minutes without ever actually denying that any of his ahem alleged blackout-drunk escapades happened.

nice job of deflection, bro.

Kash says he’ll be filing his defamation suit against The Atlantic today. here we have some file footage of a definitely sober Kash, strategizing with his ace team of lawyers.

whoops! wrong footage.


and now, here’s your hero of the day: this fucking duck.

I have no idea what the duck did to deserve this, but remember: if you can 25th Amendment a duck from a store, you can 25th Amendment a lunatic from the presidency.


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.

Thursday Tiedrich

Screenshot

once again, everything in the news is so unbelievably stupid that I don’t even know where to start. so today, I’m just going to spin the Big Wheel of Moron™ and see where it lands. ready? here we go.

“as we all know, the natural habitat for the Earth is actually water.”

that was Donny Convict’s Secretary of Moneygrubbing, Soybean Scott Bessent, pooh-poohing the idea that climate change is bad. as Bessent tells it, no one should worry about the rapid melting of the polar ice caps, because ‘the natural habitat for the Earth is actually water.’

dear lord, this shitwit is seriously advocating for Waterworld, one of the dumbest fucking movies ever.

Scott Bessent is so smug and pompous — and supremely self-assured — as he farts out one of the most imbecilic things you’ll ever hear in your life.

do you know why Soybean Scott is so confidently idiotic? it’s because he suffers from the heartbreak of fuckbrainoligarchosis, a malady where just because a person manages to accumulate a pile of money, they imagine they’re super-geniuses about everything.

in that clip above, Soybean Scott was speaking at the Institute of International Finance, which is sort of a support group where those afflicted by fuckbrainoligarchosis can get together and share their delusions of intelligence.

basically, the Institute of International Finance is what would happen if Monty Python’s Upper Class Twit of the Year sketch became a real boy.

oh, and fact check:

apparently, water isn’t the only liquid on Soybean Scott’s mind these days.

“as President Trump said this morning that he thinks we’re nearing the end. the US kept their side on the cease fire. we’ve stopped firing. the Straits of Vermouth have not been completely reopened.”

the Straits of Vermouth! I fucking love that. that is a Freudian slip for the ages. I’ll bet that’s what Piss-Drunk Pete Kegstand calls it, too.

that’s not, however, what Preznit Fuckwit calls it.

“Italy gets a lot of oil from— the— Strait. you can call it the Strait of Hormuz or the— Hormuz Strait. I said ‘which is better?’ they said ‘either is okay, but you can call it either one. the only thing you can’t call it is the ‘Trump Strait.’ they don’t like that idea.”

wait a minute — who are ‘they’, who Donny’s been in deep conversation with about ‘what to you call that watery thing next to Iran’? has he been talking to the random shrieking noises in his head? or maybe the family of raccoons that live up there?

and believe you me, Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants is dead serious about wanting to call it the ‘Trump Strait.’ he doesn’t crack any smile whatsoever when he says it, and then he goes on to brag about —

“by the way, speaking of that, I did a thing that people like very much, except for Mexico. I took the Gulf of Mexico and we now call it the Gulf of America. it’s not bad.”

the deteriorating old shit can’t even focus for five second on the subject at hand — his disastrous don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran — without his demented mind wandering to his Glorious Victory in the Great Renaming War of 2025.

oh, and pro tip: it’s not the Gulf of America. it’s the Gulf of Release the Full Unedited Epstein Files, You Fucking Liar.

well, that was fun — so let’s take another spin on the Big Wheel of Moron™. here we go!

because Dear Leader is mad at the Pope, now the entire Presidential Ass-Kiss Industrial Complex has be mad at the Pope, too.

Holy Mike Johnson, the limpest dick in Congress, knows what I’m talking about.

“a pontiff or any religious leader can say anything they want, but obviously if you wade into political waters, you should expect some political response and I think the Pope has received some of that. you know, I was taken a little bit aback, just honestly, frankly, by something that was said, I think he said it several days back, something about ‘those who engage in war, Jesus doesn’t hear their prayers’ or something. you know, it is a very well-settled matter of Christian theology, there’s something called the ‘just war’ doctrine.”

oh look — just like Couchfuck McGee, Holy Mike Johnson knows more about popery than all the popes.

I have a question: what sick pleasure does it bring Holy Mike to neuter himself on a daily basis, in service of Dear Leader? it’s like the guy never allows himself a single independent thought. whatever Donny decides on any given day, that’s totes aces with Mike. doesn’t matter if it’s a complete one-eighty from whatever Commander Crazypants said yesterday.

hey, Holy Mike — is this you?

it’s so galling, watching all these hypocrites telling the Pope to zip his fool mouth about religion, if he knows what’s good for him. these are the people who have never once shut the fuck up about how there needs to be more religion in government. these are the same loudmouth zealots who are so horny to force their vision of prayer in the schools — and the Ten Commandments in every classroom — on We the People.

but the second the Pope is all ‘maybe sometimes war is bad and stuff,’they’re all WAIT A MINUTE, WE DIDN’T MEAN RELIGION LIKE THAT.

and so now — just because Pope Chicago Bob was mean to Dear Leader — suddenly it’s open season on Catholics in America.

The Trump Admin has abruptly canceled an $11M contract with Catholic Charities to shelter and care for migrant children who enter the U.S. alone, ending a relationship between the Catholic Church and the U.S. government dating back to the first arrivals of Cuban exiles in South Florida.”

lovely. Donny — the swindler who set up a bogus charity so he could steal money raised in the name of cancer-stricken children — is now punishing a legitimate charity that does actual good work, all because he’s a thin-skinned, vindictive piss-baby prick.

welcome to the United State of Eternal Fucking Embarrassment.

okay, let’s give that Big Wheel of Moron™ one final spin.


“we got these third-world people coming here, these Muslims. you know, they call it a religion. what religion do you know that says ‘if you’re not in our religion, we’re gonna kill ya. and we want you dead’? that’s not a religion. that’s a cult. they took over Europe. it’s gone.”

hey, Tom-Toms, you want to about a cult? because oh boy, do I have a cult for you.

‘the Muslims took over Europe, and its gone? what the fuck is Terminally-Concussed Tommy talking about?

now, because I’m a responsible journalist and everything, I googled ‘the Muslims took over Europe’ and this is what I learned.

In 711, a Berber-led army under Tariq ibn Ziyad invaded and conquered most of modern-day Spain and Portugal in a seven-year campaign. Muslim rule flourished there for nearly 800 years until the fall of Granada in 1492.

bro, relax. that was thirteen hundred years ago — I’m pretty sure Spain and Portugal came out of it just fine.


fuck all that noise, because it’s time for our hero of the day: New York’s Islamo-communo-marxo-anarcho-fascist Mayor, Zohran Mamdani.

yesterday was April 15th — and in honor of Tax Day, Mayor Mamdani posted this vid to social media.

“when I ran for mayor, I said I was going to tax the rich. well, today we’re taxing the rich. I’m thrilled to announce we’ve secured a pied-a-tierre tax — the first in New York’s history. this is an annual fee on luxury properties worth more then $5 million whose owners do not live full-time in the city. like this penthouse, which hedge fund CEO Ken Griffin bought for $238 million. this pied-a-tierre tax is specifically designed for the richest of the rich. those who store their wealth in New York City real estate, but who don’t actually live here. and most of the time, these units are sitting empty, since, again, they don’t actually live here.”

I fucking love Mamdani. he’s so charming and charismatic — and he’s so freaking good at messaging.

no wonder the oligarchy hates Zohran’s guts. boo fucking hoo, oligarchs.

the morbidly wealthy call this luxury tax a nightmare. I call it a good start — because taxing billionaires out of existence is one sure cure for the heartbreak of fuckbrainoligarchosis.


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.

Midweek Tiedrich


United States Vice President Couchfuck McGee has been on quite the roll lately.

he spent an entire week in Hungary, campaigning for Dear Leader’s despot bestie Viktor Orbán — only for Vik to end up getting crushed in a historic landslide.

his attempt to wangle some kind of peace deal with Iran was a clownfucktacular disaster. after just one day of getting his smug, insufferable ass handed to him, he bailed and went home.

the latest stop on the JD Vance Worldwide Self-Humiliation Tour was the Akins Ford Arena in Athens, Georgia, and — well, you can see for yourself just how swimmingly that debacle went.

ooof. that is pathetic. look at the sections upon sections upon sections of empty seats. it’s a ghost town.we definitely need to gif that shit for posterity’s sake.

whoever had the bright idea to book an 8,500-seat hockey arena for an evening with the most-repellent person in American politics really deserves the Four Seasons Total Landscaping Completely Shat The Bed Prize.

for fuck’s sake, they could have held the event in any one of Athens’ numerous doughnut shops, and it would have been a more appropriately-sized venue.

‘so, how long have you been coming to see me speak? HA HA, THAT’S GREAT.’

but it’s a shame that more people didn’t show for the event, because they really missed out on a crowning moment of supreme arrogance. hey, did you know that Couchfuck McGee knows more about popery than all the popes?

it’s true!

“I think it’s very important [for the Pope] to be careful when he talks about matters of theology.”

‘the Pope needs to stop mouthing off about religion’ is a bold strategy for Vance. let’s see if it pays off for him.

even The New York Times was forced to commit a journalism.

that’s a hell of a headline, isn’t it?

you know, it’s kind of inaccurate to frame the piss-baby bellyaching that Donny and Couchfuck are engaging in as some kind of ‘feud’ they’re having with the Pope. it’s not. these dumbfucks are mental pipsqueaks. they’re not operating on the same level as Pope Chicago Bob.

it’s only a feud in the same way that you or I might ‘feud’ with two annoying gnats buzzing around our face.

the unearned arrogance of Donny and his sewer clowns is stunning.

with every single member of Preznit Fuckwit’s administration, it’s as if Dunning and Kruger had a baby — and then dropped it on its head. not one of these shitwits has any idea just how totally fucking brainless they are.

Piss-Drunk Pete Kegstand, a Fox News weekend chat-show dunk-tank clown, imagines he knows more about warfighting than all the generals who have studied military strategy their entire lives — and look where Pete’s unwavering faith in his own nonexistent genius has gotten us: bogged down in an unwinnable don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war in Iran.

chainsawed-whale-head enthusiast Bobby Brainworms Jr. believes he knows more about germ theory than all the actual scientists. in reality, he’s the Marvelous Mister Measles.

Donny, of course, lives in a magical, enchanted fever-swamp fairyland where he knows more about everything than everybody. anyone who falls for this patently ludicrous nonsense has been licking toads.

and now, the repulsive furniture fucker JD Vance has the temerity to lecture the Pope — the person who Catholics believe is God’s infallible representative on Earth — on theology.

the unearned and serene confidence of mediocre white men like Couchfuck McGee is stunning. if only there were some way to tap it, it could be an infinite source of cheap, renewable energy.

hang on — Captain Obvious has something else he needs to get off his chest.

“people don’t have any idea how bad the corruption is in Washington DC.”

of course, Couchfuck want you to believe that corruption in DC is a Democratic issue. fuck off, JD — We the People know exactly where the corruption in DC is. we see it every day. we see it when the Republican-controlled Congress abdicates their Constitutionally-mandated responsibility to act as a check on a power-mad president.

we see it when the Republican-controlled Supreme Court declares that Dear Leader is a Very Special Boy Who Gets To Crime All He Wants.

we see it when Donny’s own Department of What Used To Be Justice uses its power to suppress the Dead Pedo Bestie Files.

we see it when this wine-guzzling cow-cosplaying weirdo imagines her job is to prosecute all of Dear Leader’s political enemies.

we see it when Tom Homan gets caught on video accepting bags of cash from undercover agents, and then the whole thing mysteriously goes fuckity-bye.

and we see it when Dear Leader uses the power of his office to enrich himself, selling everything from access to pardons to fucked-up trading cards of himself as a super-hero.

so fuck all the way off, JD Vance — if that even is your real name — when you get all high and mighty about ‘corruption in DC.’ go clean up your own house first.


you know what? I think the time has come for someone to 25th Amendment the shit out of Donny, and replace him with Couchfuck McGee.

think about it: a Vance presidency would be an immediate failure. he’s repulsive. nobody likes him. he’s boring. he’s impotent. he holds no sway over the media. nobody in Congress fears him.

he has no violent army of deranged cultists willing to break the law for him.

and we’d never have to worry about JD Vance ordering a nuclear strike on someone because he woke up in a bad mood.

he’d simply be a placeholder until the next Democratic president.

seriously, 25th Amendment Donny and bring this guy on.


and speaking of the 25th Amendment

Rep. Jamie Raskin of Maryland, the top Democrat on the House Judiciary Committee, introduced a bill on Tuesday that seeks to kick-start the removal of President Donald Trump through the 25th Amendment — a long-shot effort that, while unlikely to succeed, aims to put renewed focus on the president’s mental fitness and recent rhetoric.

The legislation, which was offered with 50 Democratic co-sponsors, would establish a Commission on Presidential Capacity to Discharge the Powers and Duties of Office. That body would be composed of 17 members tasked with determining whether the president is incapacitated — “either mentally or physically” — and unable to discharge the powers and duties of office, as called for in Section 4 of the 25th Amendment.

I’m not being sarcastic when I say that more of this is exactly what we need right now.

of course, we need be clear-eyed about it. you can’t even call Raskin’s proposed legislation a hail-Mary shot. it hasn’t a snowball’s chance of passing in a Republican-controlled Congress.

but it’s important for Democrats to keep raising the issue of Donny’s steep mental decline, and keep it in the public’s consciousness — especially right now, when Dear Leader is acting so erratically — and fucking up so shittacularly — that even the the hardest-core MAGA cultists are beginning to be all ‘dude, what the fuck?’

it’s all about optics.

it’s necessary for the good of our nation — and the world — that people keep talking about how completely bugfuck nuts Donny is.

and — oh my — look who agrees with me for once: the NY Times.

Trump’s Erratic Behavior and Extreme Comments Revive Mental Health Debate

As President Trump threatens to wipe out Iran and attacks the pope, even some former allies and advisers are questioning whether he has grown increasingly unbalanced, describing him as “lunatic” and “clearly insane.”

welcome to the dark side, Grey Lady. it only took you shit-kazoos ten years to figure out what rest of us saw on Day One.


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.


 

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.

everyone is entitled to my own opinion is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts


as another stupid week comes to a close here in America, let’s look back at the dumbest fucking shit that happened.


monday: respect? they have an odd way of showing it

lord help us, noises are once again issuing from Fox News found object Jesse Watters’ lips.

“Trump talks like a Persian strongman. that’s the kind of language that they understand. strength, respect, honor.”

look, we know that Jesse Watters has eternally fantasized that his big, strong ‘daddy’ Donny would at long last take off his belt and tan his misbehaving hide. fine, whatever the fuck turns you on, Jesse. who are we to get all judgemental and shit?

but I’d love to know on what planet Donny is regarded as a ‘strongman’ who is ‘respected’ — because I’m sorry to burst Jesse’s bubble here, but Dear Leader is an international laughingstock.

Italian PM Georgia Meloni, can you think of a single world leader who ‘respects’ Donny?

yeah, me neither.

there’s no fucking way that Iran has any respect whatsoever for the diaper-crapping piss-baby in the Oval Bordello. has Jesse Watters not seen the videos they’ve been putting up on Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium? yo Jess, check this out.

yup, that’s some industrial-strength respect for Preznit Teletubby, all right.

here’s another.

nd here’s a third.

and that only scratches the surface. Iran is laughing its ass off at Dear Leader, along with the rest of us.

oh, and because I’m a responsible journalist and everything, I wanted to know exactly what a ‘Persian strongman’ is, so I googled it. here’s what I got.

yeah, I think any single one of these homeys could take Donny apart.

you might need a new metaphor there, Jesse.


tuesday: buh-bye

pour one out for the proprietor of the now-shuttered Trump Truth Store in Crystal Lake, Illinois.

apparently,

sales plummeted when conflict with Iran began, with the owner saying business went “dead as a door nail”

okay, my friends, you know the drill — because now comes the part where we throw our heads back in laughter.

look at the crap that was being foisted on shoppers.

On March 26, Fleischmann revealed on Facebook that her MAGA-themed establishment, which retailed $25 T-shirts displaying, “GOD GUNS AND TRUMP 2024,” “ICE ICE BABY,” and “DEPARTMENT OF DOGE,” will be “closed until further notice.”

oh, so the customers of the ‘Trump Truth Store’ were totally fine with all the fascist ass-clownery being perpetrated by Dear Leader’s goons, and it was only when gas became expensive that wearing Donny-branded shit became toxic?

well then fuck all those fucking fucks.

maybe the Trump Truth Store needs to rebrand. I’d wear the shit out of a Flippy McCrushnuts shirt. you would, too.


wednesday: to see if wut?

christofascist Stew Peters seems nice

“I told you on Day One that young American men would be sent into the meat grinder on the ground to die for Israel. it’s imminent. it’s guaranteed. right now, the White House and the Pentagon are reportedly working on plans to send in American troops along with heavy equipment to steal Iran’s uranium — if they even have any. and while all of that is in the works, Lindsey Graham is on television calling for the expansion of the ongoing air campaign, for the United States to continue committing as many war crimes as possible. we should drop Lindsey Graham right off in the middle of Tehran — to see if these people really do throw queers off of rooftops.”

oh sweet baby Jesus in the manger. Stew was almost making sense there for a while and then it went so hard off the rails right there at the very end.

does Lindsey Graham have any idea that this is what people on his own side think of him? Lindsey? Lindsey?

holy shit.


thursday: let’s shed some light on the subject

Wednesday was a bit intense, so let’s lighten this shit up.

what the fuck happened to Naomi Wolf? she used be a garden-variety ‘wellness’ crank who dabbled in vaccine denial — but then she become a full-bore a full-bore conspiracy loon.

remember this?

“I endorsed Pres Donald Trump yesterday. Today all day my phone froze, the cursor on my computer started wandering around the desktop, and my wifi continually disconnected. All coincidentally.”

well, Dr. Wolf’s back, with a burning question about photos of the moon taken from the Artemis II spacecraft.

all that light is coming from space lasers, Naomi.

we Jews have a fuck-ton of them, Naomi, and we’re happy to have done our part to ensure that the Artemis II mission was a roaring success. you need the moon lit up? we’ve got that shit covered!

and while we’re on the subject, can we just revisit the all-time greatest dogwalking of Dr. Wolf? it happened just last week.

that is perfect. chef’s kiss. ten out of ten. no notes.


 

friday: the further adventures of Some Fucking Idiot™

some fucking idiot’s Friday started, as so many of them do, with him raving incoherently at six o’clock in the morning into his crappy app.

excuse me, but what is the ‘WORLD’S MOST POWERFUL RESET’? is that what the fucking idiot calls having his morning diaper changed?

for the third consecutive day, the fucking idiot’s handlers tried their best to keep him away from the press — but they couldn’t keep the fucking idiot from shitting his delusional batshittery all over social media.

Iran holds no cards? I’m pretty sure that any country who can shut down a major shipping route at will — and trick the fucking idiot into agreeing to it — holds a shitload of cards.

oh look, the fucking idiot is promising to use the ‘full economic might of the United States’ to prop up the failing economy of his depot bestie Orbán’s Hungary.

I have an idea: how about the fucking idiot use the ‘full economic might of the United States’ to help Americans? isn’t the fucking idiot always going on and on about ‘America first’?

and there’s no way the fucking idiot wrote that tweet himself. there’s no chance in hell his rotting fingers know how to type the accent in ‘Orbán.’

now here’s a fun thing we learned on Friday about the fucking idiot. apparently he’s promised to pardon anyone who’s come with ‘200 feet’ of the Oval Bordello.

as one does, when one’s entire administration is made up of corrupt criminal fucksticks. am I right, Tom Homan?

Tom Homan knows I’m right.

oh, and the one time on Friday that the press got managed to get close enough to the fucking idiot to ask him questions — as he was headed to his Florida golf motel — he proved to be as befuddled, out-of-touch and ill-informed as ever.

and, despite that one, brief window of opportunity, not reporter stood up to ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

how fucking idiotic is that?


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.


Photo by Quan Nguyen on Unsplash

The words Walter Reed showed up on my timeline over the weekend.

I confess that my heart fluttered, my spirit quickened, and I pulled out our corkscrew and put it on the counter, just in case.

A few hours later… false alarm.

Party postponed.

Humanity, still hostage.

Unfettered lunatic, still at the wheel.

Annihilation, still in play.

Hellscape, still fully ablaze.

While I would never wish anyone harm, I will rejoice the day he leaves the planet.

I feel no shame in saying this.

It would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise.

And I will be far from alone in my elation.

When he departs this mortal sphere, it will be an occasion of global jubilation, not unlike the passing of any of history’s previous monsters.

On that day, there will be a collective exhale that we haven’t experienced since the end of the Second World War.

Outside of all but a small, brainwashed faction of the population’s most cultic, human beings around the world, will break out in spontaneous celebration at the subtraction of a presence that has done incalculable damage to the course of humanity.

On that day, the messiah of the miserable will no longer be able to generate new nightmares for the rest of us. We will finally be freed from his nonsensical ramblings. He will be unable to pervert the truth, or bastardize the office, or stoke division, or murder the English language.

But I’m not foolish enough to believe that this will be the end of the nightmare.

His enablers will remain; those opportunistic, bottom-feeding hate-mongers, soul-auctioning political traitors, and armageddon-welcoming religious zealots will still all be here, rushing to fill the power chasm he will leave behind. They will devour one another trying to occupy the throne once it is empty.

And not only them, but the legion of his civilian foot soldiers, who carried him upon their shoulders.

These past 10 years have done irreparable harm to the sovereignty of our nation, to our systems of governance, to the relational connections between us, to the collective health of the planet.

But he hasn’t done this.

The people we share this country with have done it using him as their weapon of choice. Our family members. Our friends. Our co-workers. Our neighbors.

His departure will do nothing to undo all the evil that his now bruised hands have wrought, to erase every vile thing his presence has exposed as he ascended politically.

It will not rewind the years of those who lived in squalor and poverty in New York City, on whose backs he built his fraudulent, hollow empire.

His death will not bring financial restitution to the thousands of workers and contractors left abandoned by the many bankruptcies that emancipated him from responsibility.

It won’t give back wholeness and healing to the girls and women he violated in secret or maligned in public.

It will not reverse the irreparable damage he has done to a political party whose members individually and collectively abandoned every legal and moral expectation to fall prostrate before him.

It will not illicit repentance in a white Evangelical Church that parted ways with the compassionate, loving namesake of its faith tradition and fashioned a vicious, sneering, profane, God-mocking idol out of his antithesis and bowed down before it.

His passing now could not allow us to unsee the repugnant grievance cult he unleashed here; the historically hateful movement of miserable people who’ve spent the last decade reveling in an unrepentant ugliness because he gave them consent.

It will not remove the legion of incompetent, predatory, corrupt sycophants he poisoned our government with; people who have and will continue to dismantle and pervert our systems of care and legal oversight.

And his death, as much as it would feel like an initial reprieve from the chaos he has engineered and the suffering he has spearheaded, would do nothing to conceal the heart maladies he exposed within the people around us: the long-simmering racism, the scalding contempt for foreigners, the phobic hatred of human beings for their gender identity or sexual orientation.

Long after he has made his exit, we will be left with what we now know about our family members and friends and neighbors; about the people in our churches, about the parents of our children’s friends; about the pillars of our communities, about those we trust to govern us, to protect and serve us.

These people and the atrocities they co-authored, sadly, will all long outlive him.

He has merely been the symptom.

The hatred in the heart of his supporters is the sickness.

Even when he’s gone, they’ll still be here.

So, any celebration will be short-lived.

 

Tuesday Tiedrich


Preznit Fuckwit continues to wage Schrödinger’s Don’t-You-Dare-Call-It-A-War on Iran.

we’re winning! we’ve almost won! we’re wrapping this thing up! we’ve already won, and that’s why we’re sending five thousand more troops to the region! we’re talking to the new regime! we think we’re talking to the new regime! we don’t know who we’re talking to! the Strait of Hormuz is already open! we demand Iran open the Strait immediately! who gives a shit about the Strait, we don’t need it! our allies are helping us! why won’t our allies help us? fuck you, we don’t need any allies to win this thing! besides, we’ve already won, again!

it’s exhausting to try to track it all — but the one consistent aspect throughout all this incoherence remains Donny’s love of doing war crimes.

I mean, how else can you explain this?

The United States of America is in serious discussions with A NEW, AND MORE REASONABLE, REGIME to end our Military Operations in Iran. Great progress has been made but, if for any reason a deal is not shortly reached, which it probably will be, and if the Hormuz Strait is not immediately “Open for Business,” we will conclude our lovely “stay” in Iran by blowing up and completely obliterating all of their Electric Generating Plants, Oil Wells and Kharg Island (and possibly all desalinization plants!), which we have purposefully not yet “touched.” This will be in retribution for our many soldiers, and others, that Iran has butchered and killed over the old Regime’s 47 year “Reign of Terror.” Thank you for your attention to this matter. President DONALD J. TRUMP

that was our fucked-in-the-head president, awake and colicky at 7:26 yesterday morning, shitting out yet another not-tweet full of contradictory nonsense.

first he brags about how super-awesome the negotiations are going with his new Iranian besties, and then he cranks the belligerence dial all the way to eleven, threatening to bomb the shit out of Iran if they don’t give him everything he wants, pronto.

look at what Donny threatens to ‘obliterate’ — the ‘Electric Generating Plants, Oil Wells and Kharg Island (and possibly all desalinization plants).’

fun true fact: there’s a term for the deliberate targeting of civilian infrastructure. it’s called committing war crimes — because all that shit violates international law.

I hate that we’ve normalized this shit, so let me once again point out how completely crazypants it is for a world leader to threaten a sovereign nation and promise to commit war crimes via a post on social media. no other country on the planet does this. America is now a rogue state, and an international embarrassment.

awesome job, Donny. take a victory lap.

apparently Wall Street only read the first sentence of Donny’s not-tweet, because following its posting, the stock market reacted in the most Wall Street way possible.

“Dow rises 400 points after Trump says U.S. in ‘serious’ talks to end operation in Iran:”

seriously, Wall Street? how many times are you going to fall for this shit? once again, Donny farts out some deliberate lie about how well his Iranian debacle is going, and once again, Wall Street is all ‘this time I’m going to kick that football a fucking mile!’

of course there’s a simple explanation for Donny’s ever-shifting narrative about how well his don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war is going: he’s stark barking bugfuck, and he hasn’t the slightest idea what he’s doing.

Plastered Pete Kegstand convinced Donny that his warfighting warfigherswould warfight the shit out of Iran, and that the whole thing would be over in fifteen minutes. when that didn’t happen, there was no plan B to turn to — because these high-on-their-own-supply shitwits always act first and think never.

and now, all Dear Leader can do is panic, flail, issue threats, and try to lie his way out of it by farting out one barely-credible fairy tale after another.

it’s Schrödinger’s War. it’s going however Donny wants you to believe it’s going.


isn’t this bloodthirsty bobble-head supposed to be some sort of uber-Christian? what kind of example is she setting for her children?

Karoline thinks it’s super fucking hilarious that the Ayatollah done got blowed up real good right in the middle of negotiations, because Donny got impatient — which, if that’s not an outright war crime, is at least war-crime-adjacent.


let’s watch NBC’s Garrett Haake commit one of the finest journalisms we’ve seen in a long time, as he asks Karoliar to explain why Donny is threatening to blow civilian shit up real good.

Garrett Haake: “under international law, striking civilian infrastructure like that is generally prohibited. why is the president threatening what would amount to potentially a war crime with the US military? how you do square that with the administration repeatedly saying that the US does not target civilians?”

excellent question — one that gets an evasive non-answer answer.

Karoline Leavitt: “look, the president has made it quite clear to the Iranian regime at this moment in time, as evidenced by the statement that you just read, that their best move is to make a deal, or else the United States armed forces has capabilities beyond their wildest imagination, and the president is not afraid to use them.”

Haake: “war crimes?”

Leavitt: “that’s not what I said, Garrett. and you’re saying the word ‘potential’ for a reason, ’cause I’m sure some experts are telling you that in your ear, to try to ask me that question. of course this administration and the armed forces will always act within the confines of the law, but with respect to achieving the full objectives of the operation.”

but Haake won’t take bullshit for an answer and delivers the coup de grace.

Haake: “which of those objectives would destroying a desalination plant most help?”

check and fucking mate. Brave Sir Karoline has no answer to that, so she just runs away and calls on a different reporter.

Leavitt: “Haley, go ahead.”


meanwhile, there is one war that Donny’s definitely winning: the war on competence. look at the chyron on this screen grab from CNN — it’s a big bowl of what in the actual fuck.

US questions whether it’s dealing with the right Iranian officials.”

how do you not know that? how do you fuck that up?

are these clownsticks just dialing random Tehran phone numbers and hoping for the best?

who does Donny imagine he’s been talking to, when he tweets out “The United States of America is in serious discussions with A NEW, AND MORE REASONABLE, REGIME”? is anyone from this ‘reasonable’ regime in the room with us right now?

apparently not.

U.S. President Donald Trump said the U.S. is negotiating with Iran’s parliamentary speaker, Mohammad Bagher Qalibaf, in an interview with the New York Post published Monday.

The former Revolutionary Guard commander was previously floated as Washington’s negotiating partner, but has denied Iran is talking to the U.S. and said Pakistan-facilitated discussions were merely a cover for American troop deployments.

you don’t even know who to believe anymore, because everyone involved in this catastrophe totally fucking sucks.

and then there’s this.

“President Trump told aides he’s willing to end the U.S. military campaign against Iran even if the Strait of Hormuz remains largely closed, administration officials said, likely extending Tehran’s firm grip on the waterway and leaving a complex operation to reopen it for a later date.”

oh great. now that Donny’s clownfucked the world into simultaneous energy and economic crises, he’s going to knock the board over and walk away.

anyone with a half a brain could have seen this coming a mile away.

the failing failure who failed at running a real estate empire and failed at running casinos and failed at running an airline and failed at running a magazine and failed at running a football team and failed at selling steaks and failed at selling water and failed at fighting a pandemic and failed at not getting convicted on 34 counts of business fraud has now failed at waging his don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran.

and, as always, Donny is going to leave a huge fucking mess for someone else to clean up after.

not my problem!

hey, but at least Piss-Drunk Pete is having the time of his life.

 

I witnessed lethality. I met a junior airman as the sun was going down and a chill was setting on the tarmac, who, when asked what they needed, she simply looked up at me with a sly smile on her face and said, more bombs, sir, and bigger bombs. we will happily oblige her.”

‘I witnessed lethality’ — who talks like this, other than some insecure adolescent boy who never matured into an adult?

fuck all the way off, you blood-spattered maniac. eat skateboard.


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.


What’s Going On

As Trump continues to flail in the aftermath of his disastrous handling of the economy, the Epstein files, and now a new war in the Middle East, he took to Truth Social with a pretty unhinged threat:

If Democrats don’t agree to his demands, he’s going to send ICE agents into airports to handle security and start making arrests.

So if airport security already feels chaotic right now, it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

Here’s What They’re Doing

Democrats have put forward multiple standalone bills to fund TSA (and FEMA and the Coast Guard), which Republicans have blocked six times as of March 20.

They want DHS fully funded: no concessions, no conditions, no accountability. Now, Democrats are absolutely open to funding the department, but with some basic guardrails: no masks, ICE agents must identify themselves, requiring judicial warrants to enter private property, and stay away from polling places.

You know, baseline following the law. All of which is completely reasonable. Republicans keep rejecting this anyway. So, instead of funding TSA and ending this immediately, they’re making the conscious decision to hold up funding and use the chaos as leverage.

Why it Matters Right Now

This workaround isn’t going to fix the problem. Sending untrained ICE agents in to triage long security lines packed with travelers on edge is not setting them up for success. Now we have ICE playing the role of TSA at US airports. Moving on from their previous role as “law enforcement” in American cities. We all saw how that went. What could possibly go wrong this time?

Spin vs. Reality

They’re saying: Democrats are causing the chaos at airports.
What’s actually happening: Republicans are blocking standalone TSA funding and tying it to unrelated DHS demands.

They’re saying: This is about making airports “safe again.”
What’s actually happening: They’re proposing to replace TSA agents with ICE agents, who aren’t trained to perform security screenings (let alone anything else).

They’re saying: Democrats won’t negotiate.
What’s actually happening: Democrats agreed to fund DHS with basic guardrails. Democrats put forth multiple clean bills to fund TSA. Republicans rejected all of it.

Who Loses

It’s the travelers stuck in endless security lines at the peak of Spring Break travel. It’s exhausted TSA agents forced to work without pay, doing double duty as more and more employees, understandably, call out of work. It’s the airlines forced to hold flights, leading to a domino effect that will cause delays across the country. And it’s travelers coming into the country whose first interaction will now be with the same trigger-happy losers whose actions have scared off tourists and now threaten the upcoming World Cup. (Which the already decimated tourism industry is counting on for a much needed boost.)

In the DHS funding standoff, TSA is the main pain point. It’s the one arm of the department that most regular people interact with most often. As the wait times at security get longer, and lines snake out onto the sidewalk, it’s regular Americans who are feeling the pain here.

The Pattern Here

We have the complete breakdown of an apolitical agency that performs a basic function for everyone. And we have one party using America’s headache for leverage.

The Republicans are once again holding American’s basic needs hostage in order to extract some completely unrealistic concessions from Democrats. Before it was healthcare, this time it’s the TSA (and FEMA, and the Coast Guard, so you’d better hope there’s no natural disasters or maritime… “excursions” before this is over.) How will they inconvenience us next for political gain?

Bottom Line

This could all be over tomorrow. Congress could fund TSA, agents would get their paychecks and return to work. Delays would disappear. Democrats want to do it. It’s Republicans who refuse to offer a single compromise.

Tuesday Tiedrich


tell me, is it a bad thing when the president of the United States clownfucks his way into an unprovoked, unnecessary and illegal don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran, kills over a hundred schoolgirls, destabilizes the entire Middle East, gets the Strait of Hormuz shut down, creates a global energy and financial crisis, and then, realizing he’s shit the bed royally, tries to lie his way out of it?

lucky us, we’re right in the middle of finding out.

yesterday morning, President Piss-Baby declared that a five-day ceasefire was now in effect, because he’d been having some great peace talks with Iran, very strong, very powerful peace talks, peace talks like few thought possible — maybe the greatest peace talks of all time.

the most important thing you need to know about Donny’s all caps crazypants blithering is that it’s pure, unadulterated horse shit. it’s a fever-swamp hallucination — and very little of it is true.

first of all, Iran mocked the shit out of the very idea that peace talks are happening, throwing Donny’s favorite phrase back in his face.

“No negotiations have been held with the US, and fake news is used to manipulate the financial and oil markets and escape the quagmire in which the US and Israel are trapped,” wrote MB Ghalibaf, Iran’s parliament speaker.

here’s another clue that Donny doesn’t even have the framework of a concept of a sketch of an outline for a proposal of an almost-a-plan for peace talks: when reporters pressed him for details, he just started pulling numbers out of his flatulent ass.

Kaitlan Collins: “you said there’s many points of agreement with Iran right now.”

Donny: “many.”

Collins: “can you give us a few?”

Donny: “like, many. like, fifteen points. fifteen points.”

Collins: “that Iran said yes to?”

Donny: “well, they’re not gonna have a nuclear weapon. that’s number one. number one, two and three. they will never have a nuclear weapon.”

Collins: “they’ve said yes to that?”

Donny: “they agreed to that.”

oh, so Donny is claiming that Iran has agreed to the same deal they’d previously signed with Obama — the one that Donny ripped up eight years ago, because he was jealous of a black man’s accomplishments. awesome.

I love how Donny goes from ‘many’ to ‘fifteen’ as he struggles to come up with a plausible story. and ‘no nuclear weapons’ isn’t just the first point — it’s also the second. no, wait, it’s the third point as well. yeah, that’s the ticket.

watching Dear Leader try improvise numbers on the spot is like watching a chimpanzee play with a live hand grenade. you know it’s going to end badly, but you can’t look away.

I guess Donny used ‘fifteen’ because ‘fifty-seven’ was already taken.

hen, when pressed to name names, Preznit Fuckwit started bullshitting in real-time.

reporter: “who is Steve Witkoff speaking with in Iran?”

Donny: “a top— a top person. don’t forget, we wiped out the leadership, phase one, phase two and largely phase three. but we’re dealing with the man who I believe is— the— most respected and the leader, uh, it’s a little tough. they’ve wiped out— we’ve wiped out everybody.”

reporter: “the Supreme Leader?”

Donny: “no, not the Supreme Leader. we don’t— well nobody’s ever— nobody heard of the second Supreme Leader, the son. nobody— we have not heard from the son. every once in a while you’ll see a statement made but we haven’t had— we don’t know if he’s living. but the people that seem to be running it, and they seem that based on— really fact, because things they’ve said have taken place. I don’t want him to be killed. okay? I don’t want him to be killed.”

I’m sorry, what the fuck? Donny doesn’t want to identify the ‘top person’ he’s been talking to, because they’ll end up being killed? by who? his own government? how does that even make sense?

but Donny will swear up and down that this ‘top person’ really does exist. you don’t know him, though. he lives up in Canada.

and did you catch who Donny’s point-man is in these talks? oh great, Stevie Shitkoff is involved — and not just Shitkoff, but Donny’s over-leveraged and under-qualified son-in-law Jared Kushner as well.

with the Moron Twins on the case, what could possibly go wrong?

as always, to get the real deal on what these dumbfucks have been up to, we have to turn to the indispensable Heather Cox Richardson.

Barak Ravid of Axios later reported that Witkoff and Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner—both freelancers who have financial ties to the Middle East—rather than the U.S. secretary of state, Marco Rubio, have sent messages to the speaker of the Iranian parliament, Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, through Egypt, Pakistan, and Turkey, where intermediaries are trying to set up a call between U.S. and Iranian negotiators. Ghalibaf is a close associate of Iran’s new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei.

so wait — these two numbskulls have been messaging complete randos, hoping and waiting to hear back from someone, anyone? and Donny’s conflated that into ‘good and productive conversations’ with a ‘top person’?

holy fucking shit.

it cannot be overstated just how fucking stupid this all is.

no one could have predicted that a don’t-yo-dare-call-it-a-war that was cooked up by fuckwits and executed from the dining of one of Donny’s vermin-infested golf motels would go so badly.

and now that shit has gone spectacularly sideways, as the markets crater and the price of a barrel of crude goes fuckity-zoom, Donny has no choice but to find a way to TACO out of it, declare victory, and brag that he meant to do that.

dear sweet lord, it’s all so fucking bone-crushingly moronic — and none of it was necessary.


“No negotiations have been held with the US, and fakenews is used to manipulate the financial and oil markets and escape the quagmire in which the US and Israel are trapped.”

no fucking shit that Donny was manipulating the markets by announcing his imaginary peace talks when he did — because just look at what happened right before and right after the announcement.

person or persons unknown made a fucking killing in the market — and the only way they could have pulled this off was by having insider knowledge of what was Donny was about to announce.

the market-rigging was so blatant that even financial reporters had no choice but to sit up and take notice.

At around 6:50 a.m. in New York, S&P 500 e-Mini futures trading on the CME recorded a sharp and isolated jump in volume, breaking from an otherwise subdued premarket backdrop. With thin liquidity typical of early trading hours, the sudden burst stood out as one of the largest volume moments of the session up to that point.

it’s really too bad that Congress isn’t alive to see this, because this is exactly the kind of shit they should be investigating.

it’s just one more instance of naked corruption to be thrown atop the giant shitpile of corruption that goes on every day in Dear Leader’s White House. everything these goniffs do is engineered to shovel more money into the pockets of Donny, his family, and his cronies.

how much moolah did Preznit Fuckwit make off his own conveniently-timed announcement of his fictitious peace talks?

will we ever find out?


here’s the other batshit thing Donny did yesterday: he visited Graceland, Elvis Presley’s Memphis mansion — and while he was there, he asked the one burning question that I’m sure has been on all of our minds.

“could I have taken Elvis in a fight?”

what a fucking lunatic. who even thinks like this?

I know exactly what’s going on with Donny’s desire to whale the tar out of the King of Rock and Roll. it’s pure jealousy on his part — because there was one president who really did get to meet Elvis: Richard Nixon.

I shit you not.

On December 21, 1970, Elvis Presley paid a visit to President Richard M. Nixon at the White House in Washington, D.C. The meeting was initiated by Presley, who wrote Nixon a six-page letter requesting a visit with the President and suggesting that he be made a “Federal Agent-at-Large” in the Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs.

oh, and while he was there in the Oval Office, Elvis gave Tricky Dick a gun — as will happen when everyone in the story is a certified weirdo.

how fucking hilarious is it that Elvis wanted to be a ‘Federal Agent-at-Large’ in charge of ‘dangerous drugs’? that’s like making Donny a Federal Agent In Charge of Not Bankrupting Casinos.

hanging on the wall in the White House gallery is a photo of Nixon and Elvis shaking hands. Donny probably walks past that photo every day — and I’m sure it kills him that Nixon got to meet Elvis, and he never will.

hey, you know who else got to walk past that photo?

yes, we get it, Jeff. you got invited to the Biden White House. stop showing off.


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.


Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash

A Message to the Would-Be King…

We see that you’ve declared yet another war this week.

This time, you haven’t viciously attacked some distant nation whose people you’ve bombed without cause, as a reckless and deadly act of distraction.

This time, you haven’t launched a violent campaign against brown-skinned human beings, whose dehumanization you’ve trafficked in for over a decade.

This time, you haven’t brought relentless trauma to survivors of the predators and rapists, among whose numbers you find yourself.

This time, you haven’t marshaled a savage offensive on the electoral process, or trans kids, or women’s rights, or environmental protections alone.

No, this time, you’ve declared war on all of us: the Radical Left.

You see, we know it isn’t merely a political party that you’re threatened by, trying to silence, consumed with hatred for, and seeking to eradicate—it’s the American people.

It’s those of us who stand in your way; those whose knees refuse to bow and whose mouths will not regurgitate the curated praise of sycophants and cult members that you bathe your eggshell ego in.

It’s students of history who know a failing, flailing wannabe dictator in a death spiral when they see one, and who have no interest in kissing the ring, shutting our mouths, or quietly complying.

It’s people of conscience who’ve courageously served, fought, bled, and died for this nation to defeat fascism on foreign shores, and who damn well aren’t going to allow it to thrive here.

It’s generations of activists and allies who decades ago braved water cannons, beatings, and arrests so that every human being could be afforded the dignity they deserve, and that you would deny them.

It’s people of true and abiding faith who refuse to allow you to make a mockery of a God you have never sought, a Jesus you have contempt for, and a religion you drape yourself in to cover your wickedness.

It’s human beings of every pigmentation, orientation, nation of origin, religious tradition, and political affiliation who will not allow a Temu authoritarian to write the epitaph for our 250-year republic.

We are all the Radical Left.

And you, you teetering, jittery lame duck, dollar store despot, have declared war on all decent, law-abiding people here, and we’re to tell you that you cannot win.

You are the enemy of the people, of We The People,” the fierce, unwieldy multitude whose presence here is your greatest remaining obstacle.

And so we declare war on you.

You’ll see us gather by the millions this weekend, filling city streets, highway overpasses, city parks, parking lots, and neighborhood sidewalks, declaring our collective opposition. We will stand together as a defiant army of sustained resistance, unlike anything this nation has ever witnessed.

But rest assured, we’ll be there well after the sun sets on that day.

We will be in our neighborhoods, outnumbering the masked monsters you deploy to terrorize and brutalize.

We will be in our communities, feeding, clothing, and caring for one another, protecting the most vulnerable whom you so gladly prey upon.

We’ll be organizing in our communities to support candidates, monitor the polls, and protect people whose voices you are working so hard to silence.

We’ll be relentlessly hounding the compromised lawmakers and public servants who would discard their oaths and abdicate their responsibilities just to please you.

We’ll be everywhere your cultic disciples show up to let them know that they are part of a miserable minority that will not prevail.

And believe us when we tell you that we will defeat you and we will outlast you.

When you leave the office or this planet, whichever comes first, we will be here to rebuild what you have broken, to heal all that you have injured, to tear your name from every place you have defiled with it, and to course-correct from the greatest collective error in our nation’s history.

And so today, we, the Radical Left, raise a defiant middle finger, we spit on the ground in front of you, we defy your will, and we piss on your crown.

The King is already dead.