Golly, You Need a Lot of Synonyms For "Cowardice" To Blog About Republicans During Impeachment
How’s everybody enjoying the new normal? It’s...slightly more relaxing, anyway. Slightly. Like, sure, we’re still clinging to a tiny slab of rock in the middle of a live volcano, but there’s tea now. And little triangle-shaped cucumber sandwiches. Quitcher bitchin’.
(Git this madness in living color, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/golly-you-sure-do-need-a-lot-of-synonyms-for-cowardice-to-blog-about-republicans-during-impeachment/)
So, ok. We’re all trying to figure out how to move forward from four years of increasingly totalitarian misrule that ultimately culminated in an extremely stupid, yes, but also violent attempt by loser terrorists to overthrow the government on behalf of that fellow with the strange baby hands. Anyhoo, top of the ol’ to-do list would have to be, hey, what are we gonna do with this millions-strong hate mob that wants to murder the rest of us?
Well, if you’re a recently deposed conman/thug, looking to make up for the sudden disappearance of the Secret Service piss allowance from the family budget, the first thing you do is you BILK THEM RUBES ONE MORE TIME.
Like any self-respecting cult, the Children of the Candy Corn aren’t gonna let the MAGA rapture’s stubborn refusal to materialize dissuade them from their daffy belief system; while obviously January 6th failed to bring about the ascension of the Turd Emperor in all his skidmarked glory, surely that’s only because somebody made a rounding error someplace. Make perfect sense, really, since nobody involved is any good at math. Or anything, really.
So some Q grand wizard vomited up a bowl of Alpha-Bits after a night of binge-drinking aftershave, and claimed that once they mixed with the wad of pubes in the corner of the Applebee’s men’s room he discovered the message that Assclown Easter is actually set for March 4th, no, for real this time, though keep the second week in June open, just in case, anyway, wear something tactical and slutty.
And then, and this is perhaps the DonaldTrumpiest thing ever, the skeezy old creep actually made time, during this period when he’s sinking into a pit of legal sewage right up to his pinched butthole mouth, to jack up the prices at his tacky-ass D.C. hotel around that date, lookin’ to bleed the bumpkins dry before they take another pass at killing people until he’s President again, I guess. And that’s the circle of life, Simba.
But yeah, we’re havin’ ourselves another impeachment trial, (hope you got your card punched, 10th one’s free!) which so many in the smug n’ cynical pundit class have sneeringly dismissed as political theatre. And ok, maybe it is, but you have to at least admire the innovations to the form. I mean, what does “political theatre” even look like when we disagree on the most basic contours of reality? It’s like Act I was by Arthur Miller, but after a piss and a smoke you sit back down and the curtain comes up on six naked people force-feeding pancakes to dachshunds and the program says it was written by a grad student who’s really into post-punk, Ionesco and libertarianism.
The House impeachment managers were just flat-out impressive as hell. And yeah, it helps to have such an open-and-shut, you’d-have-to-be-either-an-active-collaborator-or-completely-cowed-into-submission by-the-pitchfork-wielding-mob-your-party-became-on-your-watch-to-deny-this-shit case. But they did their damn homework. The argument was clear, thorough, incisive, and packaged in a narrative of righteous indignation, of an America nearly betrayed into tyranny, almost as if somebody asked Jimmy Stewart and Frank Capra what they thought of this shit.
They showed Mitt Romney just how close he came that day to making some new friends to talk about car elevators with, and also that he owes his life to a legit American hero, and how any Republican Senator can bear to exist in the same room as Officer Eugene Goodman without falling to the ground and begging his forgiveness escapes me.
Of course, you can lead a Republican to objective reality, but you can’t make him pull his head out of Donald Trump’s ass. From self-satisfied doodling to outright playing hooky, they’re essentially taunting us with their spinelessness, which is not the impressive look they believe it to be.
I’m almost cringing too hard to document all of the week’s Republican groveling. It’s like God shouted, “Siri, show me the most extreme depths of human cowardice” into His iPhone. If you print this out, be sure to use the most pisslike yellow ink you can find.
Of course, it’s not fair of me to expect courage from these people. Refusing to stand up to Donald Trump was a test you had to fail all over again every single day, and after four years, they’re little more than whipped dogs. We unlocked the fence and swung it wide open, but these docile pets are no longer even capable of survival on their own.
But for a few hours, anyway, they weren’t able to hide from the truth.
See, Donald Trump figured he could cling to power if only he could raise an army of shitsack white boy terrorists, and use them to kill you. And when this cornered-rat plan succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, he planted his ass in front of the television and cheered it on. He REFUSED TO SEND HELP BECAUSE HE WAS HOPING HIS MOB WOULD EXECUTE YOU.
That happened. To you. That’s a thing this man did to you. He tried to have you killed, as an acceptable and not remotely regretted side effect of his plan to seize power forever. So, he was trying to simultaneously end American democracy, and, again, MURDER YOU PERSONALLY. Every patriotic American has spent the last month trembling in fury at the obscenity of this putsch, lacking your personal stake in the matter and STILL you do his bidding, and sit obediently back on your haunches, waiting for a treat you know will never come.
And these clowns congratulate themselves on their clever little constitutionality copout, as though this communicates to anyone, left, right, or center, anything except I AM TOO TERRIFIED OF THE FORCES I’VE UNLEASHED TO EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING THE RIGHT THING PLEASE MOM I CAN’T GO TO SCHOOL TODAY THERE’S A TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEST. Marco Rubio think’s he’s actually fooling people with this shit, and it’s freakin’ adorable.
Utah’s Mike Lee suggested Tangerine Idi Amin deserves a “mulligan,” forgetting that his Kraven Koward Kaucus already burned their Get Out of Treason Free card on the Ukraine affair, and also that he was saying extremely stupid shit on live TV.
Lindsey Graham, unwilling as ever to be out-viled, not only attempted to blame Speaker Pelosi for the gaggle of Republican maniacs who sought her assassination, but even went one abhorrent step further, pointing his scumfuck finger at the very Capitol law enforcement officers that sustained 140 casualties laying their lives on the line to protect his treacherous, gaslighting ass.
...and Tommy Tuberville, well...look. I need a reporter to grill this man, on the record, to demonstrate to the world that he can tell the difference between his own ass and a hole in the ground. Simple pointing will do, but we have a right to know.
The defense has been...oof. In fairness, we’re talking about a team of Better Call Saul rejects that one apparently doesn’t contact until one has already blazed past Giuliani, Dershowitz, Powell and Lin Wood, but still...OOOOOOF. Their meth country clown show quickly became so embarrassing, Senators Graham, Cruz and Lee (you may recognize those three from their televised roles as “jurors in the trial”) sat ‘em down to spoon-feed ‘em the precise disingenuous horseshit they needed to regurgitate to help the GOP spin their imminent betrayal of oaths and whatnot. Drain that swamp, kids!
While acquittal seems certain in this environment, where half the jury shares a bunkhouse in his lower intestine, Gameshow Göring now faces a shiny new criminal investigation in Georgia, over the less-sensational-but-equally-seditious aspects of his coup attempt. Maybe he’ll wind up serving most of his life sentence in New York, but wintering in Reidsville.
Wealth may not trickle down, but y’know what does? BAT GUANO, drip drip dripping from the Velveeta Vulgarian’s carbuncled ass directly into every rank-and-file Republican brain until we’re stuck dealing with some sort of fecal grifter hive mind. Take Michigan Senate Majority Leader Mike Shirkey, proudly spreading widely-debunked conspiracy theories that the Capitol rioters were secret antifa ninjas who cleverly disguised themselves as Trump supporters, to sully the good name of the (checks notes) white supremacist death cult.
Taking a page from the Marjorie Taylor Greene playbook, Shirkey offered just enough of a feeble, half-assed apology to get the reporters off his back, and then promptly turned the bullshit fountain back up to 11. Expect to see that particular maneuver a lot in days to come.
I see the odious Josh Mandel is looking to ride Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s shitty, blood-strained, and yes, electorally humiliated coattails to a political comeback, launching his campaign for Rob Portman’s Senate seat with an invocation of the Dotard so sycophantic, Matt Gaetz was up all night shedding envious tears while ferociously journaling.
Evan McMullin got a bunch of his old friends, the handful of remaining Republicans possessing a teeny bit of residual humanity, together for a Zoom chat, to talk about maybe kinda sorta putting together a third party, where you can cut rich folks’ taxes and starve poor kids without the overtly fashy bits. Good luck, I guess.
On the other end of the right-wing spectrum, Frozen Fish Heir/Mouth of Sauron Tucker Carlson apparently finds it restricting to be confined to just one Big Lie. As he went about his nightly work, taking his eagerly brainwashed followers by the hand and leading them, step by step, ever further from reality, Liar Tuck dropped, with a ghastly casualness, a brand new, wildly insidious fabrication, that George Floyd died, not from Derek Chauvin’s knee on his neck, but of a drug overdose.
...because, why not, really? Everyone knows what Tucker Carlson is for: he’s there to tell frightened, angry white folks it’s okay to hate the people they want to hate. And if the Lügenpresse calls out ze falsehood, well that’s just further proof they’re the Enemy of the People™️ and maybe the next mob should swing by CNN or the Post, right?
...and Mike Lee wants a mulligan.
We can’t unite with you folks right now. You’re sick. I’ve seen enough (commercials for) zombie shows to understand what happens if we let y’all into the compound. We’re already used to social distancing, so y’all work out your disinformation/authoritarianism/white nationalism/terrorist violence problem, and maybe in a couple years we can all get together and rename some post offices.
Incidentally, it feels GREAT, here on the right side of history. You’re welcome to join us on the side without Nazis anytime you like, but unity? Nosirreebob.
I see Nikki Haley’s still playing ideological Twister, jockeying for position ahead of the 2024 GOP presidential primary, and I am missing something here, or could we save a whole lotta column inches by simply admitting that a woman of color seeking to lead a white supremacist death cult is rather obviously wasting her time?
Ok. Nothing to do now but wait for the Senate GOP to blanket the nation with another six or seven feet of shame, I suppose. I really hate having to dig my car out from under that shit, it smells like hypocrisy and brackish Ovaltine. Stay safe out there, my friends.
PS - Late-breaking news reveals Kevin McCarthy ate even more of Donnie One-Term’s shit than previously reported. My God, what a fucking worm.
= new reply since forum marked as read
You helped me keep my sanity. I figured your commentary would subside when Joe took the reigns. Alas, the material does not seem to be disappearing anytime soon. It seems that your missives will continue to be relevant for (unfortunately) quite a long time.
Peace
In the words of the greatest 
power trio from Canada: "Fight the good fight every moment"
