Thirty Two Short Films About Hating Taylor Swift (Ferret/Shower Cap)

[TheFerret]

Hey there, everybody. I know it’s been a bit of a week, and there’s a lot to get through, so if anyone needs to step outside to hate Taylor Swift for five minutes, I totally understand. Go for it.

(Makes more sense with all the nooz links: https://showercapblog.com/thirty-two-short-films-about-hating-taylor-swift/)

Don’tcha just HATE TAYLOR SWIFT? So much? Aren’t you literally overwhelmed by the urge to fill the internet with your intricate calculations connecting her to your George R.R. Martin-esque conspiracy theory about the globalist cabal that feminizes men to keep ‘em docile?

No?

Huh. I’m starting to think maybe you never really wanted to make America great again at all.

Because in MAGA culture, all the good little girls and boys dutifully hate Taylor Swift, like it says in the Bible.

And every now and then, one of them snaps and decapitates their father. Just like in that Bible story, where that one apostle, recognizing his dad as an agent of th’Deep State, murders him, and displays his severed head on the internet, pleasing the Lord.

Yes, it’s a holy culture war they’re a-wagin’, and not at all a fit pitched by aging incels. And in a culture war, who needs pop icons or championship athletes when you’ve got dusty spitebuckets like Ted Nugent and Jon Voight?

Like any out-of-work-actor, Voight seized the tiny spotlight he’d tumbled backwards into to deliver a new audition monologue, about Saint Dotard the Unjustly Maligned, who was “destroyed as Jesus.”

AS JESUS.

People have killed and died for this soft, shabby shit. The Freewheelin’ Jon Voight, voice of a generation. What an embarrassing fucking cult. Dad-decapitating weirdos.

Incidentally, let me congratulate Real America, on that $50 million y’all dropped on that rapist’s legal bills. Seems to me a billionaire rapist could pay his own legal bills, but I know the rube tithe is sacred in your culture. Your super cool culture where everyone gathers on Sunday to yell at the singer and her boyfriend.

Fifty million dollars.

Fifty million dollars to pay Alina Habba to lose 83.3 million more.

How is there no buyer’s remorse? Ever?

Alina may be headed under the bus, and just as she offered herself up to the faithful as a potential Anti-Tay, too. I would miss her. First-rate grifter.

Fifty million bucks to pay shameless idiots to stall, while RNC fundraising craters. Perhaps that death cult wasn’t such a clever investment after all.

We’re starting to piece together the falling Turd Reich’s office culture, fueled, apparently, by the candy store Dr. Ronny Jackson ran out of the Lincoln Sitting Room, where even the Diet Coke Steward was rapey.

Gosh, I just can’t figure out how things turned so toxic, in that cult that worships a rapist. You know the rapist, the one who throws the same sad, flaccid, don’t-you-know-who-my-father-is tantrum at every woman who challenges him. The rapist who’s lifelong friends with that sex-trafficking wrestling promoter.

Honestly, given the culture of rapist-worship, it’s surprising more of them don’t decapitate their parents.   

A rare overseas stop on the Never Ending Donald Trump Legally Faceplants Tour, because I guess he wanted to hear what it sounds like to get laughed out of court with a British accent.

Taylor Swift should do a song about the Steele dossier. As part of a concept album where she comes out as a Pentagon psyop, and confirms every single QAnon delusion, via irresistible ditties about dumping Proud Boys. Two discs. Real proggy.

I suppose we should check in on Congress, aka MyPillow Presents Mike Johnson’s Tales From the Border. They want spikes n’ alligators now, because of course emotionally stunted people propose cartoon solutions.

Especially when the point is not to solve, but rather to highlight, exaggerate, and whenever possible, exacerbate the problem. The Oklahoma GOP censured their own Senator for working to solve the problem.

Can’t solve the problem, y’see, because that’d make it harder to reinstall the rapist in the White House. “Why, we couldn’t possibly help our constituents!” sputtered Chuck Grassley, “They might vote for Joe Biden! Instead of the rapist I work for, the one who tried to overturn the last presidential election!” Looks like a really rewarding life, Charles. Dignified.

Anyway, yeah, it’s the Impeach Mayorkas Show, which offers the core audience a sufficiently foreign-sounding villain. Consumers with edgier tastes may prefer the Pinochet helicopter fantasies of U.S. Congressman Mike Collins, or the unapologetically hateful ramblings of Texas Lt. Governor Dan Patrick, featuring talking points lifted from the El Paso shooter’s manifesto.

Politico tells us Kevin McCarthy is now devoted, body and soul, to revenging himself upon his enemies within the caucus that brought his political career to such a hilariously just end. As something of a connoisseur of circular firing squads, I’m really looking forward to this one.

Like, we get the end of Nancy Mace’s congressional career, or we get to watch one of ascendant American fascism’s shittiest enablers fade into irrelevance before our eyes. Can I see it both ways before I make up my mind? Is there a version that winds up in herky-jerky, suburban dad fisticuffs on Matt Gaetz’s lawn?

Charlie Kirk is a Central Park Five truther now. Or he was for a minute, until he returned his lawyer’s texts. Either way, he’s certainly committed to TPUSA’s Alt Right rebrand, “now with double the racism!” (Wow, and there was a TON of racism in the old version!)

Seems One America “News” Network may have engaged in illegal activities while spreading that Big Lie that caused all the hullabaloo down at the Capitol. A rare stumble for the notoriously ethical right-wing propaganda industry.

Poor Marjorie Taylor Greene can’t seem to get her censure motions to the floor fast enough to keep ahead of the debunking of the disinformation justifying them, but she sure does like hollerin’, doesn’t she?

Indiana state Representative Jim Lucas flashed a gun at some high school kids during the impromptu debate he lost. So, y’know…the MAGA bench is deep.

Meanwhile, even Larry Kudlow has succumbed to the smooth, sensual rhythms of…Brandonomics. And who can blame him? Team Biden keeps grinding out these even-sexxier-than-expected jobs reports, and yeah, it can make you feel a little funny down in your nether regions. Little warm.

We’re told that behind closed doors, Joe refers to his once and future vanquished foe using appropriately profane language. “Sick fuck,” “fucking asshole,” “turd-gargling taintmaggot,” that sort of thing. Nothing the fact-checkers wouldn’t bless.

He likes to slide a zinger in now and then while he’s “reading Beowulf to the Ayatollah.” And then Beowulf said to Grendel, “Boy, what a bag of crusty dicks is Donald Trump, amirite?” We wouldn’t know any of this, by the way, were it not for the brave testimony of Deep State whistleblower/fast food chain mascot/actual fucking Senator John Kennedy.

Before I let you go, it’s time for what a reader charmingly referred to as the “beer grift,” wherein I, a downtrodden cockney lad without access to anything so extravagant as a Dr. Ronny Jackson, beg you, the reader, to throw a couple bucks my way, (now accepting Venmo, PayPal n’ Cash App) that I might wash away the memory of allllll this shit on a wave of sweet, merciful beer.

Or you can follow @john_luzar on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, or join the email list at showercapblog.com. Dedicated Shower Captives can even pre-order my WWII comic book, Marguerite vs. the Occupation! I’m told this is a TREMENDOUSLY IMPORTANT CUTOFF WEEK for pre-orders, so act now or know eternal regret.

Or you can say, “I don’t owe you shit, Shower Cap,” which is true. Whatever you decide, I’m gonna go crack a cold one, and read Beowulf to the Ayatollah. You stay safe out there. Don’t decapitate your parents!