I Didn't Say it ...

Mike Johnson, Christian Nationalist Speaker of the House, saying God chose him as Speaker:

“I’ll tell you a secret, since media is not here. Thank you for not allowing the media in. Look, I’m a Southern Baptist, I don’t wanna get too spooky on you, But, you know, the Lord speaks to your heart. The Lord began to wake me up, through this three-week process, in the middle of night to speak to me. The Lord impressed upon my heart a few weeks before this happened that something was going to occur. And the Lord very specifically told me in my prayers to prepare, but to wait. At the time, I assumed the Lord was going to choose a new Moses and thank you, Lord, you’re going to allow me to be Aaron to Moses. I had this sense that we were going to come to a Red Sea moment in our Republican conference and in the county at large. God had been speaking to me about this, and the Lord told me very clearly to prepare and be ready. Ultimately 13 people ran for the post. And the Lord kept telling me to, ‘Wait, wait, wait.’ So I waited, I waited. And then at the end the Lord said, ‘Now step forward.’ Me? I’m supposed to be Aaron. ‘No,’ the Lord said, ‘Step forward.’”

Funny how Mike only like to speak his truth when media isn’t around, so I will say this one thing …

What a fucking loon.

… and leave it there.

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Jim Carrey, on treating the unhoused with a little respect:

“Imagine struggling with being homeless and someone comes with a camera in your face to give you a meal and you have to take it. Imagine that feeling. Please stop doing that. If you go to help someone, do it with kindness and not your ego.”

If you want to do a good deed, feeding the hungry, helping the unhouse, whatever it might be, do it because it’s the right thing to do and don’t use it as a boost to your own fragile ego on social media.

Good people don’t take photos of themselves doing good deeds, they just do the deed.

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Jamie Raskin, Maryland Democrat Representative, railing at the GOP for their hypocrisy on Hunter Biden:

“Let me get this straight. After  wailing and moaning for ten months about Hunter Biden and alluding to some vast  unproven family conspiracy, after sending Hunter Biden a subpoena to appear and testify, Chairman Comer and the Oversight Republicans now reject his offer to appear before the full committee and the eyes of the world to answer any questions that they pose? What an epic humiliation.”

They have nothing because, again, if they did, they’d be shouting it from the rooftops and showing the proof everywhere.

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Nate White, an articulate and witty writer wrote the following response for the London Daily to the question ‘Why do some British people not like [Thing 45]?’:

“A few things spring to mind. [Thing 45] lacks certain qualities which the British traditionally esteem. For instance, he has no class, no charm, no coolness, no credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honour and no grace – all qualities, funnily enough, with which his predecessor Mr. Obama was generously blessed. So for us, the stark contrast does rather throw [Thing 45] ’s limitations into embarrassingly sharp relief.

Plus, we like a laugh. And while [Thing 45]  may be laughable, he has never once said anything wry, witty or even faintly amusing – not once, ever. I don’t say that rhetorically, I mean it quite literally: not once, not ever. And that fact is particularly disturbing to the British sensibility – for us, to lack humour is almost inhuman. But with [Thing 45] , it’s a fact. He doesn’t even seem to understand what a joke is – his idea of a joke is a crass comment, an illiterate insult, a casual act of cruelty.

[Thing 45]  is a troll. And like all trolls, he is never funny and he never laughs; he only crows or jeers. And scarily, he doesn’t just talk in crude, witless insults – he actually thinks in them. His mind is a simple bot-like algorithm of petty prejudices and knee-jerk nastiness.

There is never any under-layer of irony, complexity, nuance or depth. It’s all surface. Some Americans might see this as refreshingly upfront. Well, we don’t. We see it as having no inner world, no soul. And in Britain we traditionally side with David, not Goliath. All our heroes are plucky underdogs: Robin Hood, Dick Whittington, Oliver Twist. Trump is neither plucky, nor an underdog. He is the exact opposite of that. He’s not even a spoiled rich-boy, or a greedy fat-cat. He’s more a fat white slug. A Jabba the Hutt of privilege.

And worse, he is that most unforgivable of all things to the British: a bully. That is, except when he is among bullies; then he suddenly transforms into a sniveling sidekick instead. There are unspoken rules to this stuff – the Queensberry rules of basic decency – and he breaks them all. He punches downwards – which a gentleman should, would, could never do – and every blow he aims is below the belt. He particularly likes to kick the vulnerable or voiceless – and he kicks them when they are down.

So the fact that a significant minority – perhaps a third – of Americans look at what he does, listen to what he says, and then think ‘Yeah, he seems like my kind of guy’ is a matter of some confusion and no little distress to British people, given that:

• Americans are supposed to be nicer than us, and mostly are.

• You don’t need a particularly keen eye for detail to spot a few flaws in the man.

This last point is what especially confuses and dismays British people, and many other people too; his faults seem pretty bloody hard to miss. After all, it’s impossible to read a single tweet, or hear him speak a sentence or two, without staring deep into the abyss. He turns being artless into an art form; he is a Picasso of pettiness; a Shakespeare of shit. His faults are fractal: even his flaws have flaws, and so on ad infinitum. God knows there have always been stupid people in the world, and plenty of nasty people too. But rarely has stupidity been so nasty, or nastiness so stupid. He makes Nixon look trustworthy and George W look smart. In fact, if Frankenstein decided to make a monster assembled entirely from human flaws – he would make a [Thing 45] .

And a remorseful Doctor Frankenstein would clutch out big clumpfuls of hair and scream in anguish: ‘My God… what… have… I… created?' If being a twat was a TV show, [Thing 45]  would be the boxed set.”

There is talk that this was written while the Inmate was running the country, but it matters not because it’s as relevant today as it was yesterday and as much as it will be for the rest of this traitorous asshat’s miserable lying hate-filled life.

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