The Horse’s Ass Whisperer Explodes.


If you overfill a plastic biohazard bag with dog poop, cigar stubs, soggy hash browns, a hundred and forty kilograms of rancid yellow blubber stolen from an unlicensed liposuction clinic, and you leave it to bake in the high sun by the edge of the freeway, you should not be surprised when your bulging bag of sick horror and corruption explodes with force enough to move the needle on an earthquake gauge.

Steve Bannon, the horse’s-ass-whisperer who transformed Donald Trump from a racist oompah-loompah into a racist oompah-loompah with 5113 nuclear warheads hooked up to a big red button on his desk, has left the building.

Well, actually he left the building when General John Kelly ran him out of the White House at bayonet point last year, but the real break with Trump came this week when hubris and honesty got the better of him. He finally blew up.

Don Junior’s meeting with Russian agents was treasonous, and Mueller was gonna crack him like an egg on national TV, Steve told Michael Wolff, a dubious shitweasel posing as a journalist who slid sideways into the Trump White House because who the fuck could tell the difference in that place? For good measure Bannon also told Wolff that Ivanka was dumb.

He scrambled to get the turd out of the punchbowl when it became obvious he’d gone too far with the whole telling the truth thing, but it was too late. By the end of the week he was out of Breitbart too.

It might not seem like such a big deal, getting the bum’s rush from a racist blog, but damn it that blog was all Steve had. And to give him his due, that blog is part of the reason the Republicans have been mutating from a traditionally conservative political party that could boast of having defeated the old Soviet Union, under the leadership of Ronald Reagan, into an out of control keg party hosted by Vladimir Putin. Breitbart was the hammer Bannon used to smash the old Republican elite into meat jelly.

Now he’s joined them as fly blown roadkill.

Or maybe not. Bannon is gone. When next we meet him it will probably be as executive producer of the live-stream of Mark Latham’s accelerating mental collapse on The Outsiders. Or maybe as co-host of whatever that YouTube douchebag from the Japanese suicide forest does next.

But the people who definitely aren’t going away are the billionaire sugar daddies who funded Breitbart and the election of Donald Trump. They abide, awaiting their tax cuts. Their triumph is his legacy.

That was always the contradiction at the heart of Bannon’s assault on the Republican Party. His rhetoric, stripped of the Alt-Right hate-boner for white nationalism, was a call back to the anticapitalist fantasies of the 1960s. He hated the One Percent and happily called them out as the parasites who were killing the American body politic.

Yet, they funded him and his racist blog, because he was a useful idiot.

And when they had no more use for him, they kicked his ass to the kerb just like they have millions of American workers since the 1980s.

If you like this disgraceful shit you can get two columns a week for one lousy buck at

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