among the silver-tongued devils
Nazi swine
Much has been written about the policies and methods of the present administration – some of it – are you sitting down? – unflattering. Which is permitted. Technically. For the moment. At least till the so-called laws (may God guide your hand, Justice Roberts!) catch up with fast-moving conditions that are awesomeizing the country so good.
So instead of celebrating that Rich Pageant of Victory Without End, we thought we’d offer a little salute to the beauty and bounty of language favored by the Heroes We Had Not Realized We Were Appointing for Life. Below is a snippet of a Cabinet meeting (Ministry has a more, like, magisterial ring, no? Hey, if it was good enough for His Excellency Der Führer, am I right?) this past week where we get a glimpse – a cherished one (lot of glimpses – wasted, basically, this glimpse, though? a damn treasure) – into the ways the administration is so swiftly evolving the language we all get the privilege of using. Scholars will note a thrilling combination of innovation and a harkening back to our shared heritage (shared by people of quality, at any rate,) that some are calling a reappreciation of the contributions of Minister Goebbels. What we find, as we examine this evolution is a portrait in the kind of courage this country has too long been lacking, the abandonment of craven, euphemistic language in favor of bold, proud clarity, a return to the PURITY and PERFECTION OF THE MOTHER TONGUE THAT FOR TOO LONG HAS BEEN POISONED BY THE FOREIGN BORN AND WEAK-MINDED BETRAYERS OF THE FATHERLAND. Should be fun.
In attendance at appointed time: Secretary of War, Secretary of Homeland Security, Secretary of the Treasury, and Secretary of State. The President, fortified by a nap, rolled in around forty minutes later. The Secretaries of Labor, Agriculture, Education, and all the other boring ones were all in a Basement Reeducation Chamber receiving additional training – the screams sometimes audible despite the soundproofing in the Chamber, shoddy goddamn soundproofing installed no doubt by some foreign-born layabout. Vice President What’s-His-Face was off somewhere doing some lame shit, knowing nobody likes him, crying, probably, like a dipshit.
In a kennel in one corner of the room, three White House Interns kneel in the newly adopted uniform: stars-n-stripes pillbox hat, 50s torpedo bra, satin slip, tasteful pumps, each refraining from speaking till spoken to.
We pick up the meeting at the President’s entrance. He sits majestically atop Airforce Three, the Mobility Scooter of Peerless Valor. His Cabinet stands. The interns, in their kennel, cannot.
Cabinet: Mr. President.
He ignores them masterfully (so powerful, so commanding) and maneuvers Airforce Three expertly, deftly, over the kennel, only overturning one vase that was a gift from one of these state visits by the leader of some shithole country, a vase that was frankly quite ugly and the President has done us all a favor, honestly, by shattering it. The shards really bring the room together. Plus, I mean, this so-called state visit happened in the shabby pre-Ballroom era, so can it even be considered legitimate, even? In a way, when you think about it, everything that happened before this Presidency was a disgrace, really.
President (inspecting interns): Hiya there, sweetheart. What’s your name?
Intern: Jan—
President [His time is too valuable for full words.] That’s great. How old are you, darlin’?
Intern: Twenty-two, Mr. President.
President: Ew. Gross. [Claps hands. Porter appears.] Hey, Jeff.
Porter: Gary, sir.
President: Right. [Gestures at interns.] Freshen that. [Muttering, discreet.] Cause I mean, what did we say? High school junior or better. We very much did NOT say: Let’s get a mess of used-up hags in here to bum everybody out. Get it together, Phil.
Porter: [Muttering.] Still Gary. Sir.
[Longish wait as pair of porters removes kennel of offending interns.]
President: Gentlemen. What’s the status of Operation Mongrel Harvest?
Secretary Noem [Riffling papers.]: And which… was that gonna be the one in Boston? Or where did we land on that?
President [Pointing at map of Ecuador.]: The whole thing. All of it. Whole country. The whole… what? All the… [Makes throttling gesture.]
Secretary Noem: Enforcement actions, sir?
President: Right, yes. That’s what I said. You’re not very bright, are you, sweetheart?
Secretary Noem: …no, sir.
President: So last night on Truth Social, I ran through a bunch of cool new names for these… [Makes lasso gesture.]
Secretary Hegseth: Roundups, sir?
President: I know it. Don’t tell me, tell her.
Secretary Hegseth: [To Secretary Noem.] Roundups.
President: [Overlapping, to Secretary Rubio.] She’s dim, this one. [Stage whisper.] And what’s going on with her skin? Is it… [Makes “I am CARPETED by cockroaches” gesture.]
Secretary Rubio: Contagious, sir?
President: [Narrowing eyes at Secretary Noem’s face.] God I hope not. Cause it’s like a lizard’s… whattayacallit. [Makes crotch chop gesture.]
Secretary Bessent: Crypto, sir?
President: What? No. Shut up, nerd. The… parts… on a lizard. Downtown. [Crotch chop, but more insistent.]
Secretary Hegseth: Cooch, sir?
President: [Snaps fingers, taps tip of nose.] Thank you, yes. [To Secretary Bessent.] Was that so hard? [Secretary Hegseth stands, leans waaaaaaay across conference table to give Secretary Bessent the finger like four inches from his face. President, whose sense of humor is honestly underappreciated, snickers.] Heh, awesome. ANYWAY. [Produces phone.] Very popular post. Surprised you didn’t see it. Lotta people are talking about it. [Reading. Like so well.] Yaddayaddayadda… ongoing campaign of greatness… restore this nation… blahblahblah… ah. Here. So these lunatics on the left, they’re not getting the toughness. Lot at stake, here. You got the… [Placing crown on head gesture.]
Secretary Rubio: [Slaps a hand over Secretary Hegseth’s mouth before he can speak.] Sovereignty, sir?
President: Exactly. Anyways. Here were my ideas. Which, honestly? All great. Hard to choose. Sometimes, though… you gotta just… [Fisting orphan gesture.]
Secretary Rubio: [Wrestling to keep hand clamped over Secretary Hegseth’s mouth.] Be decisive, sir? [Secretary Hegseth pinches Rubio. Like, hard.] Ow-uh. [Rubio releases his Hegseth’s gin-sweating face, mouths “I’m telling”.]
President: [Throughout the following, in an enviable showcase of his multitasking abilities, audibly shits his pants.] Right. Anyway, here goes:
I really like Operation Kristallnacht, but two things – already sort of taken, and honestly? A little hard to say.
Operation Dove Punch.
Operation Thunder Cock. That would’ve raised some eyebrows, lemme tell you.
Couple people said Operation Boner of Thick Veiny Justice was a little too similar to the Thunder Cock one, so.
Operation Deputized Lynch Mob seemed a little on the nose. Plus no pizzazz, really, you know?
Operation Headlock I liked, but it was a little unclear. So, like Operation Headlock, Not For Whites – right idea, doesn’t flow, though.
Operation Reasonable Request didn’t have, like, enough Taser to it, you know?
Operation Unsung Hero I liked a ton, but folks weren’t clear that this was a tribute to the Chet character in Weird Science. [Quietly, to self.] So misunderstood.
This last one, though, this one was my favorite. Totally thought this’d get everybody stoked for the important work the brave men of ICE are doing – and women, too, some of them. Not too many, obviously, cause we want this to work. But I thought, right, a name everybody could get excited about, something everybody loves. All my friends, anyway. [Quietly, to self.] Those nights on the island. Best of my life. Anyhoozle. It’s my hands-down favorite name, and it’s getting all this pushback for some reason – totally unfair, if you think about it, just outta nowhere, really. People getting all bent outta shape. It’s weird. So. Couldn’t use that one. Since. Trying to bring people together on this ICE stuff. Shame, though. Woulda been terrific.
[Cabinet blinks, expectant. Finally, Rubio breaks the silence.]
Secretary Rubio: What was it, sir? Your favorite?
President: [Teary, visibly moved.] Operation Underage Poon.
[Cabinet stands, applauds. President squeezes off final curl of shit.]