A year in, you get used to it.

It doesn’t become normal. It doesn’t become accepted. But it does become expected, like a chronic condition. It’s just there. It’s always there. And you learn to deal with it.

Our government is not legitimate.

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We grew up in a time of great dystopian movies. Beginning with Dr. Strangelove and ending around Brazil, there’s a twenty-year run of gloom that perfectly syncs with our formative years. We may joke about still waiting for flying cars, but the future we anticipated was found in the theater, not in cartoons.

The wallpaper of our childhood was Vietnam and Nixon; gas shortages taught us that conditions could turn on a dime. Speaking of which, comic books cost twelve cents when we started buying them; they were a quarter when we stopped paying attention.

And yet we never felt as hopeless as we do today.

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Far be it from us to stand in the way of the vitriol being heaped on Trumpcare. The vote was finally held, the measure passed, and now everyone who was in a rush to have beers with the President will have to live with the consequences of their action.

You might call that a pre-existing condition for the 2018 election.

But quickly after the vote, both the Washington Examiner and the Times came out with stories about the next steps for the bill: Across the Capitol, and into the trash.

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Witless goon Fuckface von Clownstick flashes a thumbs up to imaginary admirers while wandering around the West Wing today, randomly shouting commands to his snickering staff and controller, the twisted freak and neonazi Steve Bannon.

Metrosexual trust fund twit Fuckface Von Clownstick will not see 2018 as Precedent because even fascist dictators have to know how to use a bathroom without causing a crisis. In what, 11 days?, Steve Bannon’s chew toy has managed to expose his administration to multiple impeachable train wrecks and turned the US in a pariah state that makes Chuck Taylor’s Liberia look like Monte Carlo.

We are comforted by the fact that there are bigger, more savage and more diabolical assholes in government and industry than even Bannon and his chew toy, all of which are planning on how to dispatch joy boy. The Chicago Tribune reviewed some of the mechanisms that are available for ejecting a terminally incompetent fuckwit like Von Clownstick.

We review and comment on them here for your edification and to proffer talking points that you can provide to your elected representatives in your hourly phone calls to Congress demanding removal of von Clownstick.

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Eight years ago — eight years ago! — we made a Bold Proclamation about a generational shift in American politics:

This fall, we’re taking over the country. The torch has been passed to a new generation, and this time it’s personal. It’s the Barry & Sarah Show, hosted by Jon Stewart, fortysomethings all. Joe and John will have walk-on parts, but they’re both irrelevant to the story. It’s our world now, and you kids will just have to deal with it.

And eight years later, we’re faced with a choice between Hillary Clinton (b.1947) and Donald Trump (b.1946).

What the hell happened?

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Of the many, many, many metaphors available to us — well, honestly, we can’t choose. There’s the Clown Car, of course, or Stealers Wheel (ask your parents!), or Wigstock, or Usual Suspects, or…

Really, folks: This is so ridiculous, nobody’s even bothering to find Incriminating Corndog Photos yet.

So we throw up our hands and welcome you to our GOP Debate Open Thread/Cleveland Steamer. Word to the wise: If you plan on making Hair Jokes, you’re gonna have a lot of competition.