Posts Tagged ‘Bannon’
As sure as orange is the color of prison jumpsuits, these days monumental events fall prey to the 140-charactered immaculate misconceptions of POTUS (Putrefaction of the Umber Scrotum). As the King of Siam said, “So let it be written. So let it be done.” The Umber Scrotum took this to heart and added his dribbling drivel of, “I only regret that I have but 140 characters to tweet for my country.”
In the list of shortest reigns, at 84-days the “Persimmon Putintate” is fast approaching the record of Emperor Pertinax of Rome. Pertinax lasted 86-days before being beaten to death by the Praetorian Guards. His passing was fortuitous since shortly thereafter the Praetorians separated his head from his body, placed it upon a pike, and led a parade with it.
These tangerine-hued 84-days have not been without palace intrigue. Much to the chagrin of all ground beef-faced Americans, it appears Steve Bannon’s sell-by date has come and gone. Even his dead-eyed mini-me, Steve Miller, has broken pucker and in true remora fish symbiosis firmly attached himself to the Kingdom of Kushner.
Many progressives believe the devolution of Bannon into yogurt is positive. Color me unconvinced. Dolt 45, while not yet starting a war, is liable to leave devastation just as formidable in his wake.
Let’s review. If Jefferson Beauregard Sessions is beating the nativist tribal drums, while Scott Pruitt is figuring out how to incorporate asbestos and pesticides into our diets, with Budget Director Dick Mick Mulvaney proclaiming a goal of high inequality, and Gary Cohn running the economy as an asterisk to the Goldman Sachs balance sheet, the Dolt 45 administration is a conservative Cialis-palooza.
For instance, Granny Sessions, a man who was too racist to be confirmed as federal judge 30-years ago, has in the last few weeks:
Indicated a desire to roll back civil rights oversight of abusive police departments, stampeded over states’ objections to immigration enforcement raids at courthouses, dropped efforts to improve forensic science, directed federal prosecutors to dedicate a larger share of their resources to deporting immigrants, launched a new crackdown on high-tech guest worker visas, and indicated a desire to bring back old-school “war on drugs” policies, including a stepped-up federal crackdown on marijuana use.
Or let’s look at the influence of Goldman Sachs. Here’s the picture of the Mar-a-Lago ersatz Situation Room last weekend surrounding the Syrian deserted airfield cafeteria bombing.
In this picture, not counting the soldier at the door, there are fourteen people. Of those fourteen, eight have either worked for or borrowed money from Goldman Sachs.
These things alone will not add Dolt 45 to the Emperor Pertinax list. It will be the cold hard reality of numbers. Since I have trouble counting to 21 with my shoes on, here’s a picture.
Now for some perspective – in the United States there might be 12,200 lobbyists nationwide. We have a better idea of foreign agents since by law they must register. By a recent count, there were about 1,700 registered foreign agents.
So in a country of 320 Million souls, the odds of running into a free-range lobbyist are really slim, like 0.00004. The odds of running into a registered foreign agent on the hoof are even slimmer, 0.000005.
By their own admission, the OrangeCursed campaign had only about 40 key staffers and barely 100 advisers. The question becomes: How did the campaign have, not one, but two retroactively registered foreign agents? And how, out of 320 Million people, did eleven putrid peons with ties to Putin’s Russia find their way to Trump Tower just in time for this hootenanny?
In their conclusory paragraph on Russian collusion in the 2016 election, The Guardian says:
One source suggested the official investigation was making progress. “They now have specific concrete and corroborative evidence of collusion,” the source said. “This is between people in the Trump campaign and agents of [Russian] influence relating to the use of hacked material.”
So let it be written. So let it be done.
What’s on your mind today?
From Anne Rice’s book, The Witching Hour:
Give me a man or woman who has read a thousand books and you give me an interesting companion. Give me a man or woman who has read perhaps three and you give me a very dangerous enemy indeed.
Our White House is chocked full of dangerous enemies. I doubt Dolt 45 has ever read a book. Of the two power brokers, Steve Bannon and Steve Miller, or Steve Squared, Bannon has undoubtedly cracked more books than the dead-eyed, zombified Miller, but their coming of age is almost identical.
According to acquaintances, Bannon changed after 2001. He came to embrace eras of historical significance divvied-up into 20-year increments of “highs, awakenings, unraveling, and crises.” To quote one of Bannon’s 2008 films, “History is seasonal, and winter is coming.”
The Miller part of Steve Squared was an enfant terrible calling into conservative talk radio while still in high school in the early aughts. He bragged to conservative audiences of cracking the whip on laggardly high school janitorial staff. A graduate of U.S. Senator and ambulatory garden gnome Jefferson Beauregard Sessions’ tutelage, there is no better description of Miller than this:
In any other Republican administration, Miller would have been lucky to land a second-tier job at a third-tier agency. But in the Trump White House, Miller stands out: He’s one of the few people in the president’s inner orbit who has actually worked in government.
And that my friends is the high water mark of what constitutes a policy shop for a petulant 70-year old who might or might not have successfully graduated from the Trump University of Potty Training given the reports of vodka-swilling, borscht-loving prostitutes.
Bannon and Miller are zealots. They are true believers – not of Trumpism for whatever that may turn out to be. They have spawned an apocalyptic philosophy of white national populism – the schizophrenic belief of a Judeo-Christian right to a 21st Century modernity of gadgets and gizmos nestled safely in a 1950’s culture where we are all employed by jobs last worked by our grandparents.
Empty vessels are the easiest filled. Barely 40-days in and this truism is proved by Flynn resigning due to canoodling with the Russians, a Secretary of the Navy, a Secretary of the Army, a Secretary of Labor, a Deputy Secretary of Commerce, and at least six White House staffers biting the curb because of non-existent vetting. Hundreds of offices are unfilled without any hint of nominees.
We have a rolling disclosure of Russians leaping like Baryshnikov to meet with campaign Trumpets. As of this writing, Flynn, Kushner, fruitcake Carter Page, J.D. Gordon, Walid Phares, and His Gnomeness Sessions, all met with the Russian ambassador Kislyak.
Then there is Michael Cohen, Trump’s lawyer, who is so squirrely his bushy tail twitches when he someone says, “nuts.” Add to that Paul Manafort and you just need one more to field a baseball team, maybe the Chernobyl Reds who can play in the majorly radioactive league. The nagging question is this: Why the concerted effort to conceal these meetings?
Given these people’s intellectual challenges, they would be safer if they ate their meals with sporks since they are absolutely unfettered by their cluelessness of what they don’t know. The two people who are dancing on Occam’s razor, hoping against hope that Dolt 45’s signing pen doesn’t run out of ink are McTurtle and the doe-eyed Granny starver Ryan.
These two who worship power above all else are hoping that when the dust settles, their treasonous tryst will go unnoticed. And even if they are suspected of nefarious collusion, they will have accomplished their goal – tax cuts for the wealthiest among us. The 400 highest income earners in the country will get an average tax cut of about $7.0 Million a year for the low, low price tag of depriving health care to 21 Million.
Of course this pas de deux of the vacuous and the treasonous will culminate in a virtuoso of viperous Republican retribution. All in an effort to make good on the promise to the reliably hateful Republican/Tea Party voters to hurt those with less.
Overwhelming the already anemic media is part of the Steve Squared’s plan – not that overwhelming the media requires much effort. At least it appears that the Democrats are heeding the message to fight. It seems as if they finally understand there were no rewards for working with Dubya or no punishment for eight years of Republican obstruction.
It seems as if the Intelligence Community is our last bastion of protection. I follow a few former intelligence officers on Twitter and I perked right up when one said quite unequivocally that Dolt 45 will spend his last years in prison. They use sporks there too.
What’s on your mind today?
Sometimes the greatest ideas crawl out from under the most bizarre rocks. Here’s how I got to yesterday’s greatest idea of all time. While surfing the intertubz, I happened upon a list for what makes a dog breed dumb.
Listed among the characteristics for an intellectually challenged dog are: Difficulty in training, bad memory, inability to distinguish what’s real, and a general confusion about who’s in charge. As I read the list I realized it pretty accurately described Dolt 45 and the pack of feral animals he’s brought in to sniff his rather ample butt.
His pack of dogs is a varied lot. There’s the huge BannonMastiff. Typically it has a completely disheveled, dirty appearance like it has been sleeping under an overpass. The BannonMastiff drools a lot! Strange things trigger the drooling like obscure references to European ethno-nationalistic philosophers. This breed has a strong dislike and mistrust for others. It will attack other dogs especially mongrels.
Then there’s the Siberian Flynnsky – a very lively breed. It acts out and is often bored since it lives in a general confusion as to who’s in charge. At times it is almost as if it hears distant Russian voices. It is a working breed, but you can never be quite sure for whom it is working.
When it comes to territorial breeds, there is the Chinese Shar-Pence. The Shar-Pence is very aggressive toward LBGT, hungry people, or pregnant women. The Shar-Pence will not share. This breed suffers from health problems, but when it comes to veterinary care, it is a dog eat dog world where only the fittest and most righteous will survive.
There’s also the Speagle – a breed with a little Spicey mixed in with the Beagle. The Speagle is a piss poor listener and loves to bark. They are very difficult to train and can be dangerous because they can be confused easily. Unfamiliar scents cause them to get angry and chase their tails. They often chase shadows. Dog clothes never seem to fit the Speagle.
Last, but certainly not least, there is the perceived pack leader, the Toy Teacup Trumpoodle. This breed can be very amusing, but can be very high-strung. They can be extremely temperamental. They snap if they are teased or surprised. Often they develop the “small dog syndrome” where they believe they are the pack leader. This syndrome leads to snapping, growling, demanding behavior, and incessant barking. The Teacup Trumpoodle often has mental stability problems if not trained early.
What got me thinking was how often this ragtag pack wanders off the reservation. For instance, just yesterday Secretaries Tillerson and Kelly were in Mexico trying to clean up some of the messes of the Teacup Trumpoodle. While on their way to clean things up, the Trumpoodle laid a whole new pile of dog turds at their feet.
This pack is trying a fear-based approach to issues like immigration and overall personal rights. For instance, children will be treated differently in different states. In short, where you live will determine your happiness and socialization. If your parents happen to live in an enlightened state (both mentally and physically), your constitutional protections will be greater than your poor cousin living in a red state where they are clawing their way back to 1950.
It truly seems if our future is being mapped out by a pack of dogs. When it comes to budgeting, these grifters aren’t starting with real economic assumptions; they are making claims and then back-filling with magical hyperbole – a similar exercise to baying at the moon on an overcast night.
Then there are all these dogs hanging at the edges of the pack. These dogs were originally hanging around the Siberian Flynnsky, but now it seems like more butts than his were sniffed during the campaign. In fact, many more butts. There are many questions.
So what’s my idea? The best dog shock collar is supposed to be Dogtra’s 1900 NCP Field Star. So my idea is to outfit Dolt 45 and the cabinet with modified shock collars. But shock collar would show and look unseemly. That’s when I thought about shock broziers – you know that little extra bit of support for man boobs.
When Dolt 45 and his pack of feral cabinet dogs are acting crazier than outhouse rats, we could shock them with 1600 DC-1 Trainer Broziers. We’ve already cut a promo ad.
Here’s the way I look at it. It makes no difference if this pack of wild dogs running the country is dumb or viciously evil. The end result is the same. Lots of fear, lots of peeing on things we once thought were sacred, and hoping against hope the political pack of wolves will turn on the Teacup Trumpoodle.
What’s on your mind today?
That’s what we’re relegated to – brown M&Ms – a steady diet of nothing but brown M&Ms. Expect nothing more for the foreseeable future.
When I saw the official poster of Dolt 45, that’s what I thought about – brown M&Ms.
A bit of explanation is in order. In the heyday of Van Halen, they had a rider in their contract forbidding brown M&Ms. For you whippersnappers, Van Halen was a very popular pop/rock band in the 1970s.
While the rider looked like an eccentric indulgence of entitled first-worlders, it was really a stalking horse provision. Since Van Halen used massive, ear-piercing amps, there was always the fear older venues could not accommodate the weight of the massive equipment. If there was a failure, it would endanger everyone – band, crew, fans alike.
The rider was placed in the contract as a signal. If the crew found brown M&Ms backstage, they knew someone didn’t read the contract and more importantly, didn’t read the technical requirements of the riders. Brown M&Ms meant: Danger Will Robinson – check out the equipment, electricity, performance rigging. In short, watch for haphazard, half-assed preparation leading to dangerous sub par performance.
So far, these first three weeks of Dolt 45’s administration has been nothing but brown M&Ms. (Forgive me for linking to an Andrew Sullivan essay, but it does have a couple of brilliant observations.)
Just spit ballin’ here, but if you were going to say, “throw a huuuuuuge inauguration,” wouldn’t you take the time to proofread the official poster? To do otherwise, would be “unpresidented”!
It’s just like the list of fabricated “terrorist attacks” where attack was spelled “attak,” attacker was spelled “attaker,” San Bernardino lost an “r” during an “attak” of the letterists, and there’s a new country called “Denmakr” that our map-lover-in-chief will never be able to find.
If you can’t do the little things like let spell check win, you can bet the big things like Yemeni raids aren’t getting the attention they demand. What can you expect though since it seems the White House is just a weigh station between golf outings at Mar-a-lago? This latest weekend jaunt was just product placement for selling memberships to well-to-do Japanese.
By this time in my life I should realize that intellectual consistency is too great a burden to expect from politicians. Who can expect them to remember the issues to which they swear fealty as they bark and bray?
For instance, remember all those times McTurtle and any number of other no-chinned, pillowish, chalk drones warbled, “Consistency! We must have consistency! Business growth demands consistency! Obamacare and job programs and immigration reform do not lead to consistency! We must have consistency!”
Heard any of those voices recently? Not a one dares cross Lord Commander Marmalade. They live in fear of his tweets. Like an electronic Typhoid Mary, they quiver and quake at Twittering Donald.
And remember Obama’s apologizing to the world causing the U.S. to be seen as weak? Now we just apologize as we turn the lights out on U.S. leadership worldwide. The most alarming thing I have read is that Darth Bannon sees inevitable existential conflicts in both the Middle East and Asia. Dolt 45’s ineptitude is driving stalwart allies like Australia toward China.
While the disappointment of the stolen election is still painful to us as we settle in to the Putin/Bannon/Drumpf administration, we can take solace in the fact a woman is leading the free world. If only it was Hillary. It looks as if Chancellor Angela Merkel is the hope of global progressive democracy.
Until we grow tired of our lying national security incompetents, our war hungry puppeteers, and our Russian overlord, we will just have to stomach those brown M&Ms.
Take the conversation in any direction you might like. I sincerely hope everyone is feeling better and Contrask, your surgery will be topmost in our thoughts and prayers. We look forward to when you can again — Jump!
I love words – especially words that convey a feeling. Recently the German Embassy introduced me to my new favorite word:
Muffensausen! It isn’t a thing. It’s a condition. You can find yourself in a state of muffensausen. The term consists of the word muffe, meaning a sleeve or piping. The sausen means to “rapidly flow out” or “to swoosh by”. So if you are having muffensausen it means you are so scared you’ve lost control of your bowels.
Paradoxically, never before had I thought about the true meaning of being “scared sh!tless,” but our German friends have given us the perfect word for the reign of Lord Commander Marmalade. These days I’m in a constant state of muffensausen.
Everything Lord Dampnut (anagram of Donald Trump) has touched with his freakishly small paws has turned exquisitely FUBAR. First, we have the Mango Meerkat drunk-dialing, or better said crazy-dialing, long-term allies and yelling at them. Europe is actually asking if the U.S. has morphed into an existential threat. From a NYT article:
A European official, Donald Tusk, created a stir this week when he wrote a letter to 27 leaders of the bloc’s 28 member states suggesting that the Trump administration presented a threat on a par with a newly assertive China, an aggressive Russia and “wars, terror and anarchy in the Middle East and Africa.”
Coincidentally, the White House is leaking like an incontinent colander at a watermelon eating contest. There are quite detailed accounts of phone calls and even transcripts being thrown over the transom for an abused press to feast upon and feast they are.
His crazy doctor, who looks like Bannon with greasier hair, but better skin, is even leaking about the Trumpanzee’s prostate medication. In case you’re wondering, the way to get that fresh kangaroo scrotum look for your hair is right through your prostate or so says his doctor whose business cards have, “very famous doctor” under his name.
The guy who looks like the product of an inflamed hemorrhoid having had make-up sex with a more disgusting inflamed hemorrhoid is at the epicenter of all this mishegas (another great word). Around here we’ve known Bannon was trouble from the get-go. People are catching on and the cross-hairs are trained on him. Foreign Policy magazine even called him out.
He’s got a bootlicking henchman, Stephen Miller, who has a resume resplendent with the paragons of conservative thought – Michele Bachmann, Beauregard Jefferson Sessions, and Tea Party ding-a-ling David Brat. At 31 or 32, no one is quite sure from which rat mischief he creeps (a group of rats is called a “mischief” and is there any more appropriate word for this White House infestation).
Effectively, it seems Bannon and Miller masterminded the travel ban, kept it secret, and made sure it was legally and administratively worthless through their bumbling. Of course, there are those who are wholehearted believers — the people we decent folks call “deplorables”. These deplorables even had a “DeploraBall” around the inauguration. Representative of this mélange of madness is Cassandra Fairbanks, first a BernBrain, who then settled on Trump:
“[M]yself I thought, his message makes sense.” She appreciated Trump’s opposition to political correctness… “I started saying a few pro-Trump things on Twitter, and people absolutely lost their sh!t,” she said. “I got called a literal Nazi so many times, I eventually went, Fu*k it, I’ll just go all in.” She now writes for Sputnik, a news site funded by the Russian government.
Fairbanks joined up the night of the DeploraBall with a group of like-minded “Proud Boys,” a pro-Western fraternal organization for men who “refuse to apologize for creating the modern world.” Aside from drinking Budweiser on a rooftop, their other challenge for the evening was figuring out how to put on their Pepe pins.
Each time I read about people like Ms. Fairbanks and the Proud Boys, I wonder: Can it get any worse? And I’m sorry to say, yes it can. Excising the Jews from the Holocaust Remembrance is too thoughtless even for these brain-dead illiberal xenophobes.
Referencing this new avenue of Holocaust denial from the White House is the epitome of disgusting. It is so disgusting I have no words to describe the muffensausen engulfing me. But, if you take the first letters of each of my paragraphs, somehow I have found the chutzpah for a special message to Lord Commander Marmalade.
What’s on your mind today?
Coming up with a theme wasn’t easy this year. I thought about doing a takeoff on Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children and entitling it Miss Melania’s Tower for Beastly Boys, but there weren’t enough arrows in that quiver.
So here are some things for which I’m backhandedly thankful.
Thanks to Mike Pence for proving Hoosier hypocrisy is second to none when it comes to the disclosure of emails.
Also, thanks to Mr. Pence for ensuring Donald Trump will be safe for four years as he works on the destruction of the Republican Party.
Thanks to Jefferson Beauregard Sessions for proving racism isn’t just a job requirement for Alabama Senator, but it can also be an asset for the highest law enforcement officer in the country.
Thanks to Steve Bannon for proving to middle-aged Coke addicts there’s always a second act.
Thanks to Donald Trump for not saying “just kidding” after telling white supremacists to “stop it” on 60 Minutes and then naming Bannon and Jefferson Beauregard Sessions to Administration positions.
Thanks to Rudy Giuliani for proving that the extortion of millions of dollars and poor dental hygiene are not mutually exclusive.
Thanks to bankers for proving an entire industry can be into submissiveness in S & M relationships.
As for white supremacists, thanks to the Alt-right for proving you can’t be too crazy to have a platform. Also, thanks to the Alt-right for single-handedly making great strides in turning the country bilingual by translating their speeches from the original German.
Thanks to the Judge in Texas who saved accountants the trouble of calculating paycheck increases for millions of working class Americans by enjoining the raises proposed by President Obama and the Democrats in Congress. Make America great again by working overtime at the same hourly rate.
Thanks to the pundits for using “angry white working class” when “angry white” was enough.
Thanks to Sherwin-Williams for the new spring color, “Angry White”, it is a retro-color that can only be used in areas where time stopped in the 1950s and lady parts are only discussed at the beauty parlor.
Thanks to Donald Trump for creating a market for old pictures of German World War II soldiers by tweeting them out superimposed over the American flag.
Thanks to the Trump Transition Team for draining the swamp by replacing old lobbyist swamp creatures with new lobbyist swamp creatures.
Thanks to the press for not bothering us with the intricacies of the tax-dodging, law-breaking Trump Foundation since it was so much easier to understand than the contrivance around the non-existent conflicts of the Clinton Foundation in keeping eleven million people alive.
And also, thanks to the press for the temporary amnesia around the ten thousand or so articles during the election about the “forgotten white working class man” since all it would have taken was one more article to prove the anger had nothing to do with racism.
One last thanks to the press for not confusing us with any investigative analysis proving that the manufacturing jobs the “forgotten white working class men” were always complaining about were never in the rural areas where these “forgotten angry voters” were.
Thanks to the Robert Mercer family for proving in America any old multi-billionaire can buy an election if you launder your money hard enough.
Thanks to Kris Kobach for not knowing about cover sheets or folders because we wouldn’t want his plan to round-up 3 million people to be a surprise for everyone.
Thanks to Chris Christie for proving lap-band surgery does nothing to reduce one’s ego.
Thanks to Ben Carson for being a fast learner since H.U.D. is only a half a trillion dollar generator and last week he said he wasn’t qualified to run an agency, but since he grew up in a house in a city he believes he’s got the housing, urban, and development parts covered.
Thanks to Donald Trump for reminding everyone what emoluments are and that people still read the Constitution.
Thanks to James Comey for proving a paranoid, subversive, cross-dressing Director isn’t the worst thing or biggest embarrassment that can happen to the F.B.I.
And a final thanks to Hillary Clinton for being too good for America and proving the Harvard research correct that found there is always a backlash against women in leadership positions, no matter how qualified, no matter how experienced, and no matter how extraordinarily capable they are.
Friends, 2016 has sucked. Hard. But, I am thankful we made this journey together. We are more clear-eyed, resilient, and defiant. For those things we can be truly thankful.
Your thankfulness thoughts or just your thoughts will be gratefully appreciated.