The Widdershins

Posts Tagged ‘Trump

Good weekend to you Widdershins!

I hope that you are having a good weekend.  Let’s pause for a few moments and send some kind thoughts to those people on the Texas Gulf Coast.  According to some of the latest model runs at the time I’m writing this, they could be dealing with this for several days.

I thought today I would share some political cartoons I came across.  The sad part is that while we probably indeed need to laugh at some of these, it is indeed…well sad because some of these are actual things.  And I still find it hard to believe that while the nation is concerned with Harvey in the Gulf, the orange turd decided it’s a good day to pull his stunts.

(Sigh) We used to be able to look forward to Fridays as the start of the weekend.  Now we’re going to start dreading each and every end of the week – not knowing what the hell the talking yam is going to do to ruin it for us.

I hope you enjoy the cartoons and they are in no particular order.

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

Take the comments and conversation in any direction you wish.

 

 

Advertisements

Good morning Widdershins. Happy Friday.

Times are tough for the MAGA gear crowd. Did you know now you can get MAGA overalls? Who knew? I figure they might also start test marketing MAGA Opioids to take the edge off all this bad news. Of course the only way the Trumpkinites would hear about it is if Fox has to shut down in order to focus on their primary business – pimping sex for old men.

Over the past few days, I’ve been noticing how consistent the Trumquats are when it comes to things they care about passionately. Percentage feeling “proud” that Trump is Presidenting – 26%. Percentage wanting The Mooch to stay after his profane rant – 26%. Percentage who think the Sun orbits the Earth – 26%. Such consistency even puts a twinkle in the dead eyes of Baby Goebbels as he dreams of being a roadie on an American Apartheid tour.  (That guy is only 31-years old and unless he’s Benjamin Button he was taken to the cleaners in his deal with the Devil.)

Last night Dolt went to “wild, wooly, wonderful West Virginia”. That used to be the official tourism slogan. I know that because I did a 5th grade report on the state with an obligatory refrigerator box diorama complete with a papier mache map.

This week has been difficult for the Trumpkin menagerie. Just imagine their consternation last Friday when they got up and discovered they still had health care. Big Daddy Orange, McTurtle, and Paul “Fountainhead” Ryan weren’t able to keep their promise to the faithful MAGA-heads that “they have the right to die penniless due to health care bankruptcy.”

Just imagine the righteous Trumpkinesque anger over not keeping two womenzie-Senatorettes and a guy with brain cancer in line to vote for a simple thing like depriving 32-million people health care. Honestly, the shelf-life of bought politicians ain’t what it used to be.

To heap another insult on the orange loyalists, that cute little pocket-sized Pomade Pez dispenser, The Mooch, got the boot this week. How unfair! He is really the first person who spoke Oranganese in a manner the tried and true Trumpkins could understand – no words over four letters and always screeching like a howler monkey ordering peanuts from the cheap seats at a ballpark.

The Mooch was retired by that new Dolt “Chief-of-Staph”. General Kelly seems like a good choice to the Trumpkin hordes because he tried to outlaw the Mooselimbs. He was in charge of keeping us safe for a whole 27 minutes on that January Friday night way back when before those librul judicial buttinskies got their thobes in a wad.

When it comes to a pedigree, there’s not much wrong with General Kelly. Everyone talks about him like he is a half-priced golden doodle, but that kind of talk makes Trumpkins suspicious. If someone was that good, why in the hell would they work for a two-legged cantaloupe with liver spots?

The Trumquats all have a turd sideways about Gen. Kelly trying to take away Don Il Dumb’s tweeter machine. All the Trumquats agree it is the only way to reliably hear from their dear leader outside of the voices in their heads. If you asked the Trumquats how many people are on Don Il Dumb’s twitter list, they’d say it is between 20-30 Billion give or take a few Mooselimb Kenyans named Obama.

Speaking for myself, I want Gen. Kelly to leave the Mango Macaque alone when it comes to the tweeter machine. Let him tweet. First, it’s additional evidence for the competency hearing; and two, I sleep a little better thinking he might have opposable thumbs.

If that wasn’t enough, the Trumpkins then got all torqued up by the efforts to besmirch the hallowed name of Fox News reporters. It seems as though there was a little problem with a story about a murder in Washington, D.C. and Fox reported about it. It now appears they got some aspects of the story wrong. Like all of it.

That nice man Sean Spicer tried to help Fox with the story by editing it or spell checking it or something like that. He had them come over to the White House and sit with him because he’s always been so very helpful to reporters. Just like his suit coats, Spicey just wasn’t a good fit for his job. You know what they say, “If it don’t fit, that’s another SNL skit.”

Then yesterday the Trumquats had a “come to Mueller” moment when it was revealed he is throwing a grand jury party in D.C. and lots of Trumpies are going to be invited. The Trumquats shouldn’t get their catheters clogged over this because a grand jury is a natural progression in this Coen brothers movie, No Country for Old Sin.

What should worry the Trumquats is that Mueller, like a big cat, is playing with his food. Great prosecutors and let there be no doubt, Mueller is a great prosecutor, like to mess with the minds of potential defendants and their attorneys. No one is talking about this on the teevee, but why would this grand jury information be conveniently leaked the day before Dolt goes on vacay? As they say, “Nothing so wonderfully focuses one’s mind as a hanging.”

Finally, the Trumpbots are most heartened by a Commander-in-Chief, who despite his disability of Vietnam disqualifying bone spurs (the bestest bone spurs the world has ever known), roughing it in a real dump like the White House. The Trumpbots naturally feel sorry for Don Il Dumb or anyone who has to live in a house without the mobility wheels provide.

Now that I’ve insulted everyone with this feeble attempt at satire, I want to leave you with a personal note. I’m taking a step back from contributing here. When I first started writing it was never meant to be in perpetuity. After well over 400 posts it is time to step back and give it a rest.

Thanks to everyone for their patience with my pedantic ways, thanks to MB with affording me this opportunity, and Fredster for all his support and technical expertise.

Good things are on the horizon.

Take care and what’s on your mind today?

 

Just six seconds, please play.

 

That was McTurtle about 2:00 a.m. Friday morning. He was not amused at the reappearance of the mavericky ways of Sen. McMaverick.

Amazingly, it was just a mere eight hours or so after Sen. McMaverick, the Lady Lindsey, and RoJo (Dodo – Cheeseland) called a press conference to say, “We hate this hateful bill that we are hating on because we hate it so much we can’t hate it near enough, therefore, we hate it that we can’t hate it more because we only have so much hate to go around, but, we are going to vote for it if Paul Ryan sends us a note saying he hates it too.”

McTurtle’s “shellacking” came only a couple of hours after releasing the text of cobbled together legislation affecting one-fifth of the economy. Mind you these legislative scions wrote the bill after lunch so they could give it the full attention it deserved.

Meanwhile, The Mooch was exhibiting textbook June bug craziness in keeping with his amalgam of hummingbird/mako shark/honey badger genetics. His characteristic enthusiasm was directed toward the orange man baby he’s tending these days instead of his own baby born last Monday while Dolt 45 was corrupting the Boy Scout Jamboree.

The days of Rancid Penis being 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue’s most expensive fly wrangler mercifully ended Friday. In bidding adieu, Rancid said he was going “To spend more time with his family.” When contacted, his family said, “Don’t bother.”

With this crazy Dolt Administration just hanging on by a thread, it is a wonder Newt Gingrich isn’t trying to divorce it.

Rest assured, no matter how crazy this week seemed — it will get crazier. There is no bottom for these lunatics.

In a moment of fleeting optimism, Machiavelli said, “Always assume incompetence before looking for conspiracy.” Having faced all manner of immorality, Machiavelli never envisioned Dolt & Sons, Grifters Extraordinaire — conspiratorial incompetents serving Mother Russia since 2000.

Here are some “CRAZY” songs, but don’t be constrained by just music or “craziness” as a theme. Feel free to post anything you want — tweets, jokes, songs, or stories about adorable new puppies.

 

 

 

 

This is a gaping maw of an open weekend thread for self-care and maintenance of our mental health. Giddy up!

 

Yes, we tan!

Remember the picture on the right? Remember what a sensational scandal that was? “Yes we tan.” It ran on a loop on the Fox Ailes-o-vision for weeks. Good times!

By now you’ve seen the rant by “The Mooch”.  He was a reject from MTV’s Jersey Shore because of his lack of sophistication. The producers decided to go more upscale with the genteel steroidal “The Situation” and a puking drunken Snooki.

Like all instances of world-class stupidity, The Mooch seemed to get a jump-start. While this is just an opinion, it wouldn’t be a surprise if The Mooch had convenient nose attachments for hoovering up unsightly mounds of Colombian cha-cha powder. Just think: The consummate twofer – cleanliness plus manic jags to contemplate Steve Bannon pleasuring himself in Cirque du Soleil style.

The dysfunction he represents isn’t a fish rotting from the head. This White House is one of those fermenting, beached whales rotting itself into an IEC – interspecies exploding carcass. It’s now too tiresome to even engage in the threadbare apothegm of, “What if it was a Democrat?”

Jim Collins is unsurpassed as an author on leadership and management. He writes based upon scientific research animated with anecdotal examples. One of his more famous observations is:

The old adage that people are your most important asset is wrong. People are not your most important asset. The right people are. We found that the great leaders got the right people on the bus, the wrong people off the bus, and the right people in the right seats on the bus. Then they decided where to drive the bus.

The personnel of this White House are made in the image of their coppery-hued leader – they are dolts, ignoramuses who are enjoying the pinnacle of their incompetence. To pick up on Jim Collins’ metaphor, this White House bus has two stops – the first at the home for the criminally insane and the second at the penitentiary for the insanely criminal.

Who could be surprised? This orange phlegm from a thrice used Kleenex is an abomination. He has assembled a coterie of weak-minded slugs better suited for long aimless strolls while muttering “made another grunt again” – MAGA for short.

Bannon conducting West Wing Staph training…

There is open warfare among administration personnel. Personally, pissing on that racist garden gnome Sessions makes no difference to me. Sessions hanging on by his percale sheet is just delaying the inevitable constitutional crisis on the horizon.

What is worrisome is this: Do you think the likes of Rick Perry or Betsy Devos are ever going to take a principled stand on any issue given the treatment of Sessions? Pruitt is out looking for ways to pollute, Zinke is threatening Alaska, and Rexxon is listening to the echoes of an empty State Department. We passed lawlessness about ten miles back – these people might as well have Cyrillic labels, “Putin’s automatons for crippling America.”

And on the other end of the alimentary canal known as Pennsylvania Avenue, old crusty hangers for colostomy bags called Senators proclaimed, “We hate this law so much we are voting yes.” Fortunately, three Republicans put a shiv into McTurtle while pouring kerosene over his shell and torching him.

For all that is right and holy, if these people weren’t so ghoulish and jacked-up looking, this would be like living in an Inception world.

There is no need to belabor this confederacy of doltish dunces, but I want to leave you on a positive note.

Since August of last year, I’ve been sharing my thoughts about the Umber Ulceration’s behavioral characteristics. You have listened patiently and courteously.

As I have said, Dolt 45 gets every ounce of his self-esteem from the way others see him. His reason for being is to perpetuate his illusory stature. Every waking moment is but another scene in the epic stage play that is his life.

During the G20 I noticed two things – both of them were instances of Dolt bottoming for Putin. Once was the handshake where Dolt bottomed and the other was Dolt walking around the massive table to go sit at the feet of Putin during the dinner. Dolt was the subservient submissive partner in both acts.

So what? In Dolt’s ghost written books he made mention of both practices calling them weak and for losers. So whatever Putin has on Dolt, it is of sufficient quality to cause Dolt to suffer ignominious public debasement by his own volition. It must be of sufficient weight to cause this tub of Orange Offal to deviate from his 70-year charade. As has been amply demonstrated this week, neither Dolt nor anyone working for him is deft enough to conceal it much longer.

What’s on your mind today?

For your entertainment, a little known Jersey Shore audition video — don’t know if it is The Mooch.

 

 

This clip explains where we are. The media – print, television, e-media, Twitter, you name it – are galloping off at breakneck warp speed on a contrived snipe hunt. Dolt 45 is setting the media agenda and the networks, led by accountants sporting green eyeshades, are more than happy to oblige.

But for today’s installment of prolixous prognostication, I’d like to keep the “external initial dampner” engaged and take a slower, more nuanced view of the deconstruction of democracy.

Trump on his way to latest dumpster fire…

The media chases squirrels because there are squirrels to chase. They are genetically predisposed to chase squirrels. What is vastly more important are the issues affecting real people’s lives. These issues will rid us of the toxic orange fungus faster than media posses chasing shape-shifting political squirrels.

Just look at where we are – somewhere between 22 million and 32 million people losing health care. Deductibles exploding to $13,000 for someone making $26,000 a year. No longer requiring banks to adequately capitalize. Allowing credit card companies to reinstitute modern forms of indentured servitude. Companies polluting without consequence. Record corporate profits without ze-effing-ro paid in taxes. Give the poor $40 in tax cuts and the ultra rich $940,000. Halting lawsuits of those who have been cheated, maimed, or killed by those more powerful. In short, restructuring policy to resemble the golden gilded age of robber barons.

Who would profit? The Mercers of Breitbart, Kellyanne Conjob, and Steve “Pickled” Bannon fame are fighting a tax bill of $6.0 Billion. Where I come from that’s plenty of money to incentivize Cambridge Analytica and its data mining operation to target angry white guys in the Midwest to vote for someone with the intellect of orange toe jam. Or how about the half-trillion dollar oil deal between Russia and Exxon? Something more redistributive perhaps? How about a trillion dollars being wrenched from the poorest Americans so the wealthiest can wallow in obscene tax cuts? If that doesn’t conjure enough grotesque fuckery, try thinking about two-thirds of the nursing home elderly being turned out on the streets because of draconian cuts to Medicaid.

I tend to see the similarities in people and not the differences, but for the life of me, I can’t see much difference between McTurtle and Mr. Burns — both cartoonish greedmeisters.

You will hear OMB Dick(head) Mulvaney or HHS Tom “insider trader” Price talk about “sustainability through reordering priorities”. There is no reordering of priorities. There has been and will continue to be only one priority of the Republican Party. It is greed. Greed first, last, and always. There is nothing else to understand about the GOP platform – it’s the “Greed Only Party”!

Let’s depart from the usual analysis. Calling the modern Republican Party greedy and ending there is like saying water continues to be wet. Why would someone place a price tag on their soul?

Why are people greedy? Psychologically and unsurprisingly, greed goes hand-in-hand with narcissism.

Both narcissism and greed have their roots in profound self-doubt. Narcissism is self-aggrandizement of the emotional kind, while greed is self-aggrandizement of the materialistic kind.

Narcissism and greed have other aspects in common. They both arise as disorders in people who, in their unconscious mind, are aligned with the conviction that they’re lacking in importance, significance, or value. Such people have difficulty feeling or accessing their own essential value. Instead, a deep negative sense of “self” contaminates their emotional life, and they resonate or identify with this inner default position.

Here’s the kicker. You don’t have to be wealthy to be greedy. Greed is an aspirational characteristic of the Horatio Alger set. You can be thread-bare, broke, and still be greedy. According to one study, the feeling of grandiose entitlement has grown since the 1980s. Who would have thought that Raygun would usher in a “me first” generation?

What does this mean for the country? This “I’ve got mine, sorry about your luck” philosophy means there is no interdependence among the classes unless it is to fight the wars of economic convenience. Put another way, if you can helicopter to work, you don’t need roads traveled by the little people.

A common refrain by Republicans is that our country is weakened by the moochers and the hangers-on, you know, the lazy people. Here’s something to stick up the arse of the next person who says that to you.

By large measure, the wealthy behave less ethically than those of modest means. In reality, the lazy takers are the tax avoiders who are getting away with $2.2 Trillion without having to work for it. They are simply avoiding taxes and sticking it into their pockets. The entire social safety net for children, the elderly, the disabled, and the poor costs us $370 Billion or six times less than the tax avoiding takers.

One last thought about narcissism and greed:

Narcissists deny or cover up inner truth by believing, as they shower themselves in self-admiration, that they truly want admiration from others. Greedy individuals, meanwhile, believe they really want to feel value and worthiness, yet they go chasing after an illusion of value—materialistic self-aggrandizement—that can only deepen self-alienation.

The greedy are unhappy, angry people. Their souls are empty chasms where self-worth should be. Here’s the not so hidden truth – Dolt 45 isn’t an aberration. That orange blob of disgust and perpetual ego masturbation is the perfect Republican totem. His need for self-esteem and validation are symbolic of the Republican Party.

Big hat, no cattle…

The Republicans have been designing the perfect ticket for almost forty years. Unfortunately for the country with help from the Russians, this banausic, predacious, crowd of angry greedy wannabes got their perfect ticket and punched it.

Sorry this isn’t the good stuff Fredster usually posts on the weekend. Please don’t let my self-indulgence deter you. Post anything you might desire – videos, strange weird news, self-preservation meditations, whatever you want – it is free range at the Widdershin’s.

Have a great weekend.

 

GOOD SUNDAY WIDDERSHINS!

Obviously this was a week where we could barely catch our breath before the next revelation regarding the T.C.O. (tRump Crime Organization) slapped us in the face.  There were no twenty-four hour news cycles this week.  It was one, unending, continuing news cycle.  Vladimir Putin and his cohorts played a big part in it.  When a former counterintelligence officer shows up for a meeting at Trump Tower we’re talking serious spy shit stuff.  Also, it seems our “friends” on the other side of the aisle are not overly concerned about Russia’s helping hands in our elections.

And that continues to amaze me because who were the ones that constantly railed against the former Soviet Union and its leaders?  (Mr. Gorbachev tear down this wall).  Our Republican friends don’t seem to understand there is very little or no difference between the new “Russia” and the old U.S.S.R.

So with that thought or theme I found us a nice selection of “spy songs”.  These would be obvious “spy” songs but also some with just inferences of spying or watching. I will leave out some of the most obvious ones from my selections so y’all can add some of those on your own.  My selections are below.

(1) Every Breath You Take~The Police

(2) Somebody’s Watching Me~Rockwell

(3) Secret Agent Man~Johnny Rivers

(4) Spy of Love~inxs

(5) On Her Majesty’s Secret Service~John Barry

(6) Spy In The House Of Love~Steve Winwood

(7) The Spy~The Doors

So there you are Widdershins, a half dozen plus one of songs about spies or watching or being sneaky.  Add some of your choices in the comments below.  Of course, open thread.

 

 

 

 

What a week! Everyone is struggling to explain what is happening. I’ve heard the pundits say it is where “greed meets incompetence” or “malevolence meets the sewer” or any number of unsatisfying descriptors.

It might be an intersection or a confluence, but I prefer the Swindon “magic roundabout”. It is seven traffic circles in one. Here’s an explanation:

So in the Dolt 45 turd-o-matic roundabout, we have greed meeting incompetence meeting malevolence meeting dirty tricks meeting incoherence meeting indifference meeting amorality. It is the non-compunction junction since there are no qualms about any loathsome behavior.

Then last night it became apparent these idiots have sat on these emails for three weeks – emails saying “Clinton-Russia” in the subject line – and yet, they had no plan for dealing with them I was reminded of Burn After Reading, the Coen brothers movie. Burn After Reading celebrated a bunch of incompetents who thought they were genius; when in reality, none of them should have been in public without a Mommy’s Helper leash.

Like a hummingbird during mating season, the excuses have been everywhere all at once. Of course the paragon of square-headedness, Sean Hannity, the dumbest man ever paid to talk on teevee, quickly got to the essence of it all with a demand to investigate Hillary’s emails.

There are bright spots though. People like Russ Douthat ate a big heaping helping of crow:

The benefit of the doubt I extended to Trump was limited, but on a rather important subject: I thought that direct collusion between his inner circle and Russian officialdom during the 2016 campaign was relatively unlikely and the odds of ever finding proof of such a conspiracy vanishingly low.

You can read my argument in full here; it’s a mere six weeks old. It’s also no longer operative, because we know now that Donald Trump’s son, his son-in-law and his campaign manager all took a meeting in which it was explicitly promised that damaging information on Hillary Clinton would be supplied as “part of Russia and its government’s support for Mr. Trump.”

If this was a tease in the review of a sitcom, the next part would be prefaced with, “hilarity ensued.” Having known about these emails for a month, the crack P.R. Team decided to fabricate a story for release last Saturday that morphed into another story on Sunday that again morphed into another story on Monday, and yet again changed for Tuesday. Honest folks don’t have to lie – repeatedly.

The ambulatory carrot stain has dumbed down normal. Of the top ten recounted in the article, here are a few of my favorites:

  1. It’s not normal for the presumptive nominee’s son to take a meeting with a Russian lawyer who claims she has dirt compiled by Russian governmental forces who want to see your guy win.
  2. It’s not normal for the President to sign off on a public cover-up of that meeting when confronted with the facts.
  3. It’s not normal for the President to hold a Cabinet meeting that consists of his staff gushing over him.
  4. It’s not normal for the President to obsess about cable-news coverage of himself, yell at White House televisions, and instantly react to stories before checking the specifics.

But this is normal for this White House and the person illegitimately occupying the Oval Office. What is not normal is the speed at which Special Counsel Mueller is forging ahead. Mueller learned valuable lessons prosecuting Enron, its executives, and related organizations. He will not be daunted by these halfwits and morons.

In thinking about the week, here are my takeaways:

  1. No matter what happened with the hacked emails, the Russian activities, or the various conspiracies, but for the Comey letter on October 28th, Hillary would now be President.
  2. The Mercer family is battling a $6.0 Billion tax bill. They have also bankrolled Milo, pollster Kellyanne Conjob, Breitbart, Steve Bannon, and Cambridge Analytica, their data mining firm. Someone had to identify and target promising precincts in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania and transmit that information to the Russian bot controllers. There is an electronic trail and the NSA probably already has it.
  3. If only Obama had demonstrated the courage to ignore McTurtle’s obstruction last summer and forge ahead with the warning of Russian interference, Obama would have been proved correct and vindicated by the email saving his legacy and the country from the orange plague.
  4. The tightly choreographed kabuki of the G20, starring Pootie, Lavrov, and Dolt was nothing more than a performance for good old Rexxon. If you are Rexxon, how would you feel being played for the fool on a world stage? Watch for a resignation.

Here’s the last scene from Burn After Reading. They ask a good question. If we learn not to let this happen again by making the name Trump synonymous with Benedict Arnold or genital herpes, we will have learned something of value.

 

What’s on your mind today?

 


Keep Up

Atrocities Documented:

What the F*ck Just Happened?!

Victories Won:

Your Victories Against Drumpf!

Wanna Be A Widdershin?

Send us a sample post at:

widdershinssubmissions at gmail dot com

I’m ready. Are you?

Blog Archive

September 2017
M T W T F S S
« Aug    
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
252627282930  

Our 2016 Ticket!

Our girl is gonna shine

Busted: Glass ceiling

HRC bumper sticker

She’s thinking “Less than 2 weeks I have to keep seeing that face”

Yeah I can make it

The team we’re on

Women’s March on Washington!

Right-click the pic for more info

Kellyanne Conway’s new job

So similar

Take the kids to work? NO!

3 turds control fate of healthcare for millions

That moment when *your* pussy gets grabbed

You go gurl! h/t Adam Joseph

***Hurricane Harvey support/donations***

Quick links for donations.

Charity Navigator **does** give their ratings/evaluations of the organizations.

Charity Navigator Harvey Page:

Charity Navigator – Harvey

Donations for our furry, and other critter friends:

Texas SPCA Donate Page

Houston TX SPCA Donation Page

Red Rover Group

What Cassidy/Graham bill would do: