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One Big Dot

Over the course of the last year, your husband has been spotted all over town with a certain attractive young lady. Dining in restaurants, walking through the park, dancing at clubs, walking into and out of hotels, etc.

“She’s just a friend!” he says defensively when you confront him once again with news of the latest sighting.

“Well then why didn’t you just tell me you were going out with a friend?”

“I forgot. But look how honest I am to be telling you now!”

This happens over and over again. And again.

And again and again.

But you just know he’s not screwing her. You’re sure of it. He would never lie about that. He would never betray you that way. So why does he have to keep making you look like a jerk by frolicking about with a woman whose Snapchat profile simply reads “#DTF #HomeWrecker #MarriedMenFuckTheBest?”

The thing is, there’s just no “smoking gun,” no actual evidence, so what exactly are you supposed to do? You haven’t seen him put his penis in her vagina. Until you do, it’s all just lies and smears and hysteria from the jealous losers who are sharing these ridiculous stories (and videos and audio recordings and photos and tweets from your husband himself saying awkwardly complimentary things about the young lady). Sad!

Your friends begin to lose respect for you, rightly believing that you’re quite stupid for continuing to rationalize his denials and excuses. They also sense something that just hasn’t occurred to you: that it no longer even matters if he has ever actually fucked her—because even if you are never able to prove that he has, he’ll never be able to prove that he hasn’t.

This is the situation that our President finds himself in.

Our President is hopelessly, irredeemably, utterly compromised. I do not mean that in the sense in which it is typically used—i.e. I do not mean that Vladimir Putin necessarily has the pee-pee tape or some other form of kompromat that he is holding over Donald Trump’s head in exchange for certain actions, although that may certainly be the case.

No, our President is even more compromised than that. Our President is so completely compromised that it no longer even matters what the underlying truth of the matter is. His words and actions (along with those of his family members) have created a web of lies, omissions, contradictions, suspicions, and conflicts that can never be sufficiently untangled.

Take, for example, the June 19th meeting at Trump Tower between Don Jr. and, at last count, roughly 847 shady characters, about half of which have/had some kind of connection to the Russian government, all of whom had to be revealed one-by-one after being told after the previous revelation that there was no one else to reveal. We have absolutely no idea what happened at that meeting and, as it happens, there wasn’t a single reputable, trustworthy person in the room whose account we have any reason to believe.

Now Robert Mueller will investigate this and get as close as he can to the truth, but the fact is that there’s not a single ending to even just this one story that, given the context, could possibly result in anyone being able to say “Oh, well that was all clearly a misunderstanding,” unless of course there were cameras in the room and it turns out they really just had a totally innocuous chit chat about adoption after jokingly arranging the meeting under the pretense of exchanging dirt about Hillary Clinton that was hacked by a foreign government.

Try to invent an explanation that works. It can’t be done.

Yesterday we learned that Trump, amid all of this, somehow could not resist getting up from his seat at a G20 dinner party, walking over to an open seat next to Vladmir Putin, and commencing to have a private, one-hour chat with ol’ Vlad and ol’ Vlad’s translator (without any other U.S. official or U.S. translator)—and that the White House inexplicably (and yet unsurprisingly) didn’t deign to inform the American people of this meeting until they were asked about it. We will never know what they discussed for that hour and neither party’s account, should they ever provide one, would be even minimally reliable.

The White House will continue to insist that these dots just don’t connect, but I’m here to say that it no longer matters whether the dots connect. There are so many dots now that they’ve basically merged into just one big, stupid fucking dot. If there was anywhere to draw the lines, maybe they’d connect, maybe they wouldn’t. It just doesn’t matter.

As things stand, we have no good reason to think that our President might not be under the thumb of Russia’s malevolent and autocratic leader in one way or another. We have no good reason to doubt that Putin is either giving direct orders to our President and/or merely toying with the bumbling idiot in order to diminish our status, thereby improving his own. We have no good reason to believe that our President ever has or ever will put the nation’s interests ahead of his own.

Our President is compromised—not specifically, not narrowly, not by a particular entity, but wholly and irreparably.

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Donald Trump And The Plausible Unforeseeability Event Horizon

I think it’s fair to say that one of the things about the Trump campaign and presidency that has caused the most consternation, even among the most deeply cynical of observers, has been the non-response of congressional Republicans to a series of statements, events, behaviors, and tweets that are just objectively horrifying to everyone else, everywhere. It didn’t seem possible that I could hold the GOP in lower esteem than I did in 2015—and yet never in a million years could you have convinced me back then that they’d have stood idly by while Donald Trump insulted his way to the White House and proceeded to dismantle our reputation in the world with his staggering incompetence and immaturity.

Now I don’t know about anyone else, but if I am to maintain any shred of hope for the future of the Republic, I need an explanation for the systemic moral meltdown of the political class on the Republican side of the aisle. It can’t really be that they’re just this craven, right? If they are…well, then politics as we know it is dead and we might as well stop trying. In a last ditch effort to salvage the presumption underlying decency, I’d like to postulate the existence of a psychological phenomenon I call the Plausible Unforeseeability Event Horizon.

Before I describe this phenomenon, let me provide a little background. One of the most affecting books I’ve ever read is called The Fifty Minute Hour, written by the preeminent psychoanalyst Robert Lindner shortly before his death. Published in 1954, it’s a collection of four case studies of particularly compelling and complex patients Lindner worked with. The story that sticks in my head is of a young man, Charles, who stabbed a young woman sixty-nine times with an ice pick and then raped her.

As in each of Lindner’s stories, the layers of this man’s life are peeled back until, by the end, you can scarcely imagine a different ending. Even if you care to dismiss the Freudian analysis, the circumstances of Charles’s childhood were brutal and led, as I see it, inexorably toward a horrible conclusion. Maybe it was the “upbringing since the age of three in a sequence of religious orphanages, where he experienced sadistic beatings that pushed him to identify with his ‘tormentors’ and to become what Lindner calls ‘an afflictor, delighting in giving pain.'” Maybe it was being “plied with alcohol and beaten up by a gang” at the age of eleven. Or maybe it was being sent, at thirteen, “to live with foster parents on a farm, where he does odd jobs and is treated as little more than a farm animal.” Most likely, it was all of those things.

Whatever it was, this obviously raises questions about the kinds of collective and individual failures that produced such a troubled soul. What could society have done differently to protect Charles as a child? Who actively contributed to his psychopathology? Who saw the signs and did nothing? At what moment in Charles’s life did his future become inevitable or, at the very least, foreseeable? When did a bad outcome stop being plausibly unforeseeable?

The question I’ve been asking myself lately is a slight twist on this way of looking at human behavior—an attempt to do it in the present, rather than from the future. That question is this: Is there anything Donald Trump could do today that, when looked back upon in five, ten, twenty years, would seem even remotely surprising?

If Donald Trump raped a waitress at Mar-a-Lago this weekend, would anyone be able to plausibly say “Oh god, I didn’t see that coming?” If Donald Trump strangled a reporter to death with his bare hands in response to a question he didn’t like, would anyone be able to plausibly say “Geez, there were no warning signs?” If Donald Trump stripped naked at the Lincoln Memorial and gave a wild-eyed speech demonstrating a very poor understanding of history and/or policy, would anyone be able to say “What the heck? He seemed so smart and normal before!”

The answer to all of those questions—indeed, the answer to any similarly structured question you can imagine about Donald Trump’s behavior—is an emphatic “No.” I defy anyone to suggest an act—short of displaying emotional maturity, intellectual aptitude, or human kindness—that would produce a different answer.

The fact that you won’t be able to do it suggests to me that at some specific moment in the last two years we crossed the Plausible Unforeseeability Event Horizon (PUEH).

And the psychology and politics changed for congressional Republicans the moment we crossed it. As we approached the PUEH, the incentive to denounce and distance themselves from the black hole that is Donald Trump increased at an exponential rate. On the other side of the PUEH, the incentives are essentially reversed. To say now that firing Comey was wrong, that leaking highly sensitive intelligence information to the Russians was bad, that whatever he does today is somehow worse or more dangerous than any of a thousand other things that have come before, would be character suicide. They couldn’t do it without admitting that they’d been wrong to give him passes on a thousand earlier transgressions and that they are thus manifestly unfit to take an unsupervised shit, let alone hold public office.

My gut sense is that the PUEH for Trump was probably the Access Hollywood tape. Intuitively, it felt at the time like openly admitting to being a serial sexual assaulter—someone who felt free to “grab ’em by the pussy”—should have been the last straw, despite it being not even the worst or most dangerous thing he’d done, said, or shown himself to be up to that point. And sure enough, Republicans came as close as they had to jumping ship, but couldn’t quite bring themselves to stop fucking that chicken. After all, the election was approaching, the tape had been recorded years earlier, it was locker room talk, Hillary did email, #Benghazi.

So they let themselves slip past the PUEH—and here we are. I’m not absolving them of their crimes against humanity. I’m merely suggesting that Republicans’ behavior now is perhaps more understandable from a psychological, self-preservation perspective than it was before they reached the PUEH, which is useless information unless they choose to learn from it, which they won’t.

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Jim’s Briefs: 2/20/17

Let this serve as my roughly bi-annual notice that I intend to write with greater frequency and in shorter form. The Trump administration has got me all mentally constipated except for a handful of ponderous, overlong tracts I’ve been working on for months that I’ll probably never finish. The goal now is to tackle one or two thoughts or news items per day (ish) with limited attention to detail or coherence in a desperate attempt to clear the fire hazard of a backlog in my head.

Until I get cleverer, they’ll be called Jim’s Briefs. I hope you’ll get into Jim’s Briefs.

1. Trump’s Travel Toll

I know it’s an easy target and something that conservatives should be up-in-arms about, given their fetish for criticizing everything Obama did that was even remotely related to leisure, but I happen to think we should lay off the issue of the costs associated with Trump’s travel to and from wherever the hell he wants to go on the weekends. We can and should criticize his lack of seriousness in the position, his predilection for peddling access to high-paying members of his private clubs, his lax attitude about national security when mixing work with pleasure, and so on—but these are ultimately unrelated to the costs of his travel and security.

In other words, it is not impossible to imagine a serious and competent POTUS who travels frequently and I, for one, would wholeheartedly approve of whatever taxpayer monies were spent conveying and protecting such a person and/or his/her family. The presidency rightly comes with perks, but it also comes with costs that we must bear in connection with the presidency and I just don’t think it’s wise to spend any time or energy nitpicking over how much it costs to allow the President of the United States to travel freely.

2. A One-Dimensional Man

A much stronger line of attack against Trump is the one concerning his efforts to profit from the office, particularly in light of this new bit of leaked audio from POLITICO, in which Trump casually offers to let wealthy, dues-paying members of his Bedminster National Golf Club (“the special people,” as Trump calls them here) sit in on interviews for high-level administration positions:

But this is a front on which I think we need to be clearer about the nature of the allegation, lest it sound too much like a desperate conspiracy theory. Specifically, it strikes me as relatively reasonable for a low- to -medium information citizen to blithely dismiss the notion that Trump set out with a conscious, deliberate strategy to enrich himself by becoming President of the United States and that he is now taking clear actions to capitalize on that plan.

It’s easy, in fact, to dismiss the notion that he has ever done anything consciously or deliberately in his life; the man appears to be pure id. So in reality, what we’re really talking about is a profoundly one-dimensional person—a machine that was programmed to perform only one task.

We all know these people; they filter everything they hear or say through a very narrow lens that renders them almost completely unrelatable unless you happen to also be into the thing they’re into. The type I run across most often is the new-agey evangelical Christian who just can’t get through an interaction with another human being without referencing his or her church and/or dropping in some explicitly religious language in extremely loose reference to whatever the subject at hand is. (I think it’s worth briefly going off on this tangent for a second, so bear with me.)

A typical conversation with one of these folks goes something like this:

ME: Hey, do you know where I can get some good falafel?

THEM: Absolutely, man. There’s a great falafel place my pastor recommended right down the street from my church that I like to go to after bible study every Thursday evening at 6pm.

ME: Um, okay…thanks.

THEM: Totally, man. Have a blessed day—and give me a call or text if you want to hang out on Thursday evening.

Now maybe some of you are thinking “well, that doesn’t seem all that egregious to me,” and you’d be more-or-less right if we were talking about one exchange, but I’m talking about people for whom these are the contours of most encounters. (And I’ll just add that as a non-religious person, the multiple allusions to church and religion in just this single, barely-exaggerated back-and-forth come across as gratuitous and presumptuously overshare-y—the rough equivalent of me responding to the same question with “Oh yeah, there’s a place my girlfriend and I always go to get the tzatziki we like to bathe in before lovemaking. You should join us sometime.”)

Trump is the business version of this archetype. He relates to other people on a purely transactional level, where every  single interaction has the potential to lead—directly or indirectly—to the inception and/or success and/or failure of “the deal.” He’s not thinking any more or less about making money than he has at any previous point in his life, which is to say that it’s the only thing he has ever been capable of thinking about. (Prestige and approval ratings are one measure of his of his brand’s value.) In his mind, if he “does a good job,” (his phrase, not mine) he will make money incidentally. More dangerously, he may well think that if he makes money, it will be an indication that he’s doing a good job.

The neatest trick is that he didn’t even have to harbor real hate in order to become an agent of hate in the world. He just did what one-dimensional businesspeople do every day: indulge whatever racist, sexist, ignorant bullshit falls out of the mouths of people they’re doing business with; to object would be to kill the deal. If anti-racists had been as exploitable as the GOP’s base, he would just as easily played that part in an effort to close the deal.

It’s really very simple: Donald Trump is incapable of seeing or understanding the moral hazard inherent in failing to construct a fortress between his personal/business interests and the Oval Office because constructing such a fortress would entail changing the way he operates and he is incapable of changing the way he operates because he only exists on a single, razor-thin plane—and there can be no higher calling on a flat surface.

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It Is Your Patriotic Duty To Humiliate Trump With Your Vote

610602226Surely you’ve taken a moment or two at some point to consider the Baby Hitler Time Travel Paradox which asks, obviously, “If you had a time machine, would you go back and murder baby Hitler?” It’s an interesting little thought experiment but also maybe a little dangerous and probably your answer ought to be “no,” because baby Hitler wasn’t guilty of anything and, also, importantly, was a baby.

If you’re going to murder baby Hitler, you should probably also take out millions of acquiescent citizens of Germany and the world who stood by and let that shit get horrifyingly out of hand. And that, I think, is really what the question is asking us to think about. Are there maybe things short of time traveling to kill babies that we can do to stamp out hatred and prevent terrible things from happening like, say, genocide?

For example, if you could go back to 1930 and, knowing then what you know now, deal a decisive and humiliating blow to the National Socialist German Worker’s Party (the Nazis) simply by lining up behind the Social Democratic Party, which stood the best chance of holding the line against Hitler, rather than wasting your vote on one of the other four niche parties—would you? That seems like a pretty easy call to me.

Or maybe, if you could only go back as far as 1932, you’d tell Thälmann and Duesterberg to fuck off in order to give von Hindenburg, whatever quibbles you might have with the man, a more decisive victory over Adolf Fucking Hitler in order to prevent him from gaining the clout he needed to be appointed chancellor?

I’d like to think I’d do that much to prevent the extermination of six million Jews.

Now look, I’m not saying Donald Trump is baby Hitler, but at the very least he’s an intellectually and emotionally stunted baby-man who, even if he’s not really the dangerous bigot he plays on TV, could very easily get a lot of people unnecessarily killed accidentally. 

Personally, I think he’s a empty vessel filling himself up with and then spouting whatever hateful nonsense will make a bunch of cranky old white men erect for the first time in decades. But he’s spouting it nonetheless and thus represents the very worst of America and humanity and is giving fresh energy to ideas that should have been taken out behind the barn and clubbed to death a long, long time ago.

If you are a person who agrees with the assessment that Donald Trump represents something simultaneously old and new, something frightening and potentially calamitous, then I’m here to tell you this:

You have a patriotic duty to humiliate this motherfucker into the dark ages with your vote. 

I would much rather be telling you why I think Hillary Clinton will make a terrific President of the United States—and I do—but that is way beside the point now. She will win and she will make a terrific President of the United States—but winning is not enough.

I don’t give care one bit what you think Clinton’s flaws are. They pale in comparison and, more importantly, they don’t represent a corresponding cesspool of aggressive hate in the electorate. We must stamp out this racist, sexist, low class, low information flame. We must crush it with the force of a hundred billion drunken make-up fucks. An America that defeats Donald Trump decisively is objectively a far better America—morally, intellectually, politically—than an America in which he comes within a hundred miles of the White House.

And no, I’m sorry, but a vote for Dumb Gary or Kooky Jill doesn’t cut it. Perception is everything: Clinton 45/Trump 43/Johnson 11/Stein 1 looks like a close shave; Clinton 60/Trump 40 looks like we resolutely rejected this big orange pile of festering hot shit and everything he claims to stand for. I would like to think we could do even better than that, but I won’t get too hopeful.

We must deal the death blow to his ego that the Republican Party couldn’t muster. We must show the fringe lunatics supporting him that they truly are the fringe. We must make it clear that this is not welcome here. We must put this rabid dog down or it will come back to bite us in the ass.

So please accept this phenomenally reasonable bargain. No time machines, no baby killing—just a vote against dangerous demagoguery before people start getting hurt.

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Cleveland Steamer

Cleveland Steamer \ˈklēv-lənd\ \ˈstē-mər\ — colloquial term for a form of coprophilia, wherein someone defecates on someone else’s chest.

We hope you enjoyed Hyperationalist’s first commissioned piece of art. We’re very happy with the the work of the artist, a gentleman who prefers not to be named because…well, because we asked him to draw a picture of an elephant shitting on Uncle Sam’s corpse.

We think the image speaks for itself.

Now please follow us on Twitter and/or like us on Facebook for more of this shit.

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Statement On The Failure Of Our Petition To Allow Open Carry At The GOP Convention

Remember that one time when Hyperationalist launched a satirical petition to allow guns at the Quicken Loans Arena during the Republican National Committee’s convention and it kind of turned into a whole thing? Here’s a little refresher:


Anyway, the convention is upon us and while there are guns all over Cleveland, there are none in the hands of the civilians in the main convention hall. We failed. Sad!

If you’ve arrived here by any means other than the email we sent out via, here’s the official update we sent regarding the “failure” of that petition:

In spite of tremendous support from over 55,000 concerned patriots across the nation, our petition to spread freedom to Cleveland and beyond has failed.

Apparently in Crooked Hitlary Clinton’s “politically correct” libtard America, some people would rather not be surrounded by high-powered semi-automatic assault weapons with high-capacity cartridges—and so the oppressive policies of Barack HUSSEIN Obama’s regime remain in place.

We at Hyperationalist will continue to fight the good fight until all Americans are free to exercise their God-given Constitutional right to carry any kind of firearm, anywhere they want, at anytime of day or night.

All snark aside, there was no change in the policy because any idiot knows that would it would be monumentally fucking stupid to let people to carry guns into the Quicken Loans Arena under normal circumstances, like during a basketball game or a Maroon 5 concert, let alone during the 2016 Republican National Committee convention at which Donald Trump will be noinated.

But also, because the Secret Service said so.

A note regarding the Secret Service’s policy regarding guns in the convention hall: We at Hyperationalist obviously agree 100% that guns should not be allowed into the Quicken Loans Arena next week. Or the week after that. Or the week after that. Or at any time or place where people gather to shop, be entertained, eat, work, learn, play, protest, etc.

The fine public servants at the Secret Service are simply enforcing a rule that makes absolute sense in all places, at all times, because it is their job to keep people certain people safe—and banishing guns from the places where those people will be is the very best way to ensure their safety.

We think this rule is perfectly reasonable and would very much like to see such a prohibition extended to include any and all public spaces where half-cocked assholes probably shouldn’t be carrying their penis substitutes/extensions deadly weaponry in and around our friends and families and fellow citizens (the ones who are not presidential candidates and political dignitaries).

But let’s be crystal clear about one thing: for the GOP to have used the Secret Service’s prohibition as a cop out in response to the petition is utterly laughable. How many times have congressional Republicans tried to repeal Obamacare now? Fifty times? Sixty times? Isn’t it logical that if they truly disagreed with this policy, if they genuinely held the Second Amendment so dear, they would have taken at least one shot at repealing the government tyranny represented by U.S.C. Title 18 § 3056, 1752.

If “gun-free zones” really are the unconstitutional kill zones Republicans tell us they are, this would have been a perfect time to walk the walk and show us all just how committed they are to the cause of eradicating them. Instead, on this one issue, they punted. “Aw shucks, we really would like to have guns at the convention but they said we couldn’t! Nothing we can do! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.”

Let the record show that the one time they didn’t have the gumption to fight for the Second Amendment was coincidentally the one time it involved their own safety.

So obviously the petition wasn’t a failure. It sparked a brief national conversation around the hypocrisy of the NRAGOP’s position on guns—a hypocrisy that will be on full display next week as tens of thousands of anti-gunsense Republicans pack themselves into a convention hall without the metal machines of mayhem they insist the rest of us should have around us at all times.

In other words, the same Republicans who have helped the NRA and the gun manufacturers flood our country with guns, thus contributing directly to the resulting tens of thousands of gun deaths every year, will be hiding next week behind a “gun-free zone” policy that they claim to oppose, while the rest of us get to live in fear that our child will get shot in crossfire at the playground, that a drunk and abusive husband or boyfriend will get access to a gun, that a downstairs neighbor will be playing with a gun beneath a child’s bedroom, that we’ll be in the wrong place at the wrong time when an argument escalates at the grocery store, that a suicidal teenager will get his or her hands on a gun, that a heroic police officer will find himself targeted by a lunatic with a long gun, that a three-year old will find a gun and shoot himself in the face, and so on…

To this end, Hyperationalist will be monitoring the number and circumstances of gun deaths that occur all across the country between the opening and closing gavels of the convention. We will post a running tally, updated daily, of the roughly 400 Americans who are likely to die by gun while The Grand Old Party is safely tucked away in the gun-free Quicken Loans Arena

Of course, the rest of Cleveland is not a “gun-free zone,” leaving city officials concerned about the various individuals and activist groups who have promised to be loud and proud, carrying their viagra alternatives stupid fucking murder toys in and around the convention zone, blatantly ignoring the pleas of law enforcement officials even in the wake of Dallas.

Stephen Loomis, president of the Cleveland Police Patrolmen’s Association, said he strongly supported citizens’ rights to bear arms, but he is urging people not to take their guns anywhere near Cleveland’s downtown during the convention.

“The last thing in the world we need is anybody walking around here with AR-15s strapped to their back,” he said. “And the absolute tragedy in Dallas is proof positive that we just cannot allow that to happen. I would really just beg these folks, just leave your guns at home. Come, say whatever it is that you want to say, make whatever point it is that you want to make, but it’s going to be very, very difficult to deal with the R.N.C. as it is.”

The gobsmacking contradiction the petition sought to highlight is fully captured in Mr. Loomis’s brief statement. “Sure, everyone should be able to carry guns around, but just not here, please.”

Why, Mr. Loomis? Why not there specifically? And if not there, why anywhere else? Could it be that open carry is just a bad idea everywhere? Could it be that the same advice you’re offering to save the lives of cops might, if applied at all times and everywhere, help save the lives of cops, teachers, kids, firewo/men, pizza delivery guys, doctors, janitors, lawyers, churchgoers, etc.?

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Paul Ryan Has Always Been A Pathetic Phony

The moment I knew that Paul Ryan was a sad fucking loser was back in 2012, when he had just been thrust into the national spotlight as Mitt Romney’s pick for Vice-President and we were treated to endless fawning accolades portraying him as the anti-Sarah Palin.

He’s serious! He’s studious! He’s wonky!

We were told that Paul Ryan was something of a philosopher. He used to give out copies of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged to his staff for Christmas. He once said this in a speech to the Atlas Society:

[T]he reason I got involved in public service, by and large, if I had to credit one thinker, one person, it would be Ayn Rand. And the fight we are in here, make no mistake about it, is a fight of individualism versus collectivism.

And then there’s this:

Paul Ryan on Ayn Rand

2009 Paul Ryan campaign video

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what a dilettante looks like. Let me tell you the origin story of this silly little limp penis lookalike: Paul Ryan was your typical Young Republican douchebag when some typical older Republican douchebag told him to read Ayn Rand’s very long and very shitty novel because it would philosophically justify everything Republicans of all ages were fighting for. Paul Ryan read that novel and had an almost religious experience because he was stupid enough to think it actually said something meaningful, which it does not.

He didn’t think critically about this so-called philosophy called Objectivism or about whether Rand’s novels actually made a compelling case for that “philosophy.” He just picked up some key smart-sounding words and phrases that he could apply to just about any political situation and come off looking like the genius in a room full of chowderheads who can barely shit their pants without fucking it up.

But then, of course, he had to distance himself from Rand in 2012 because Ayn Rand was an atheist and that just wouldn’t do as a nominee for the Republican Party. So he threw her under the bus:

I reject her philosophy. It’s an atheist philosophy. It reduces human interactions down to mere contracts and it is antithetical to my worldview. If somebody is going to try to paste a person’s view on epistemology to me, then give me Thomas Aquinas.

But you see, Ayn Rand’s atheism was the only thing that justified her being such a stone-cold fucking cunt from the shit-crusted taint of the seventh circle of hell. It was Ayn Rand’s atheism that allowed her to hold the kind of political views that Ryan so admired. (To be clear, I am an atheist and I do not hold those views—nor do even a tiny fraction of a single percent of the atheists I know. But only a person who believes nothing could prescribe the sorts of policies advocated by Rand and the Republicans who love her.)

Ryan had apparently never been asked to reconcile his professed Christianity with the other big book he held so dear—and when confronted with the contradiction, he just punted. He didn’t soul search or admit error or even let go of any small piece of either belief system. Instead, he just rejected Ayn Rand the person and continued to pursue policies that would make her proud while still professing to be a Christian.

And so it is no surprise that Paul Ryan put his little cock and balls in a jar and handed them to Donald Trump today while expecting us to still think of him as a man. (Don’t worry Paul, we’ll let you use whichever restroom you want.) He was never going to feel compelled to square past statements on Trump with his endorsement because he’s never seen a need to square any of his mind-bogglingly contradictory beliefs with each other. Also, because they can’t be squared.

Paul Ryan is not serious. Paul Ryan is not intelligent. Paul Ryan is not virtuous—he just thinks he’s those things, which is what makes the whole thing extra pitiful.

Paul Ryan is now the political equivalent of Ted Haggard. He’ll continue to pretend (and maybe even believe) that he’s straight smart and drug-free principled, but after getting caught doing crystal meth with a gay prostitute endorsing Donald Trump, no one will ever believe him again.

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