Exhuming McCarthy

As a blogger, I have been telling you people that the Republican party is a useless, decrepit, stinky, corrupt, dangerous, rotting pile of stinky rotting matter for a long time. A long time. I have been saying it in person for even longer. If you didn’t hear me before, let’s say it again:

“The Republican party is a useless, decrepit, stinky, corrupt, dangerous, rotting pile of stinky rotting matter.”

Ten, maybe 20 years ago, I was marking the Republican Party with my pee. I was warning you. I was preparing you for the exorcism we are witnessing now.

I told you then that the Republican Party is horrible. That they hold evil in their jars. That their jars contain evil. That the Republican party hisses from its throat and shoots acid spit at you. I warned you of the future existence of Loerin Lobert and Maca Tyler Greene. I warned you this would happen. I worked a long time to warn you. I knew this would happen.

AND YET, HERE WE ARE. Both of us lonely. Both of us lonely. Still here we are. Sorry, earworm.

One lovely thing to have happened due to all this nonsense with the House Speaker election (the nominated TFG FFS) is that the Democrats have proven the the smartest MFs in the room. We are united. We give Hakeem Seikou Jeffries vote after vote after vote. He is gonna wear a cap one day that says 212 or better yet he’ll have it tattooed on his ass. 212. I am Hakeem. My new number is 212.

I am not sure when I have been more happy or proud or beaming with nuclear energy to be a Democrat. Our caucus recognized the power of unity and the character of our leader and we buckled down and took the strength. If this was arm wresting, we stabbed their wrists to the mat. If this was baseball, we caught that fly ball. If this was jazz, we were Charlie Parker.

But it was not those things. It was politics. And we were Democrats. And we won and continue to win.

McCarthy has never been a good name in Republican politics.

Have you no sense of decency, sir?

At long last?

Have you no sense of decency?

Prelude To The Afternoon Of A Sexually Aroused Gas Mask



On December 4, 1993, Frank Zappa, the then-present-day composer, stopped refusing to die. Thus began the observation of BUMMERNACHT, the first day of the 17-day-long observance we call Zappadan.

It’s been a challenging year.

Is there a Zappa song I think meet the challenges of the new normal? Yes. This one

And maybe this one

May you live in interesting times.

But enough of my yakkin’. What do ya say? Let’s boogie!

We Gotta Get Tempuratured


Also, over at Plague Journal 2020, my Dad, who is one of the best-read human beings walking around (chances are good he’s reading a book right now), has offered selected suggestions for reading in the context of Black Lives Matter.

I am currently reading The Impostors by Steve Benen, which is most interesting in its thesis, which draws a strong demarcation for recent Republican history. Republicans since the Obama era, it argues, are a completely post-policy party, and thus, they in 2016 elected the first wholly post-policy president. Much in the book is obvious stuff if you’ve been paying attention and in fact there is an economic point he misses when discussing Trump’s weird hard-on for a 6-percent GDP.

What are you reading?