Dingus of the Week: Marco Rubio
What’s worse than spineless?
Lyz is out on vacation. If you can call walking mournfully over the over the wind-swept terrain of Ireland and casting yearning glances into the sea a vacation. And Lyz would, because she’s a little touched like that. Turns out Wuthering Heights girlies never really grow out of it. At best, they become Wuthering Heights women. Embarrassing behavior for a 42-year-old, and a great argument against letting women learn how to read. In any case, Lyz is gone and she’s writing this about herself in the third person.
Meanwhile, the amazing comedian
wrote the dingus this week. Josh is a frequent dingus pinch-hitter. Josh is also an author and producer, and was previously a writer for Desus & Mero and Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. He has an Emmy! A couple of them!Josh has written some incredible past dingus newsletters about Kathy Hochel, Matt Damon, and how we all need to touch grass. If you love Josh’s writing, subscribe to his newsletter.
Josh is also the owner of a pug named Maggie and I (sorry for the pronoun and tense shift) made him send some exclusive pug pics to share with you, my beloved readers.
And now, over to Josh.
When a politician pivots away from a principled or at least a normative position toward full amorality or evil, there’s a tendency to refer to that person as “spineless,” meaning they lack the moral backbone to make a courageous choice. But that’s a flawed framework. Many of these alleged public servants are not cowards. They are pure opportunists for whom the spine/no-spine binary is insufficient to capture the thorough saturation of cravenness into their very beings.
These people are top-to-tail sickness, possessing a physical solidness that masks a complete lack of spiritual integrity. Picture if you will, a flourless chocolate cake made of tumorous prostate cells or an eclair shell kept taut by a thick filling of pus.
What I mean to say is: Marco Rubio.
I’m sorry if I’m coming off too gross or strident. Normally when I guest-write one of these newsletters, I’m happy to make some quips about Katy Perry becoming the first adult woman to be a theater kid in space. I’d love to rag on Andrew Cuomo for populating the housing policy section of his website using the same software people use to turn climate change and plagiarism into pictures of themselves as action figures. Hell, even if I were talking about Marco Rubio under other circumstances, I’d bring up the fact that he has a law degree from the University of Miami, which is one notch more prestigious than getting a J.D. from Dave and Buster’s. That would be snobby of me, but I would do it. Because it’s fun.
But right now, the Trump administration has implemented what our major newspapers might euphemistically call an involuntary foreign exchange program through which hundreds of migrants have been arrested and sent without trial to a notorious mega-prison in El Salvador with the blessing of Salvadoran president Nayib Bukele. (This is something Trump has floated doing to U.S. citizens as well, by the way.) One victim of this policy is Kilmar Abrego Garcia, who was deported fully in error, and whom courts have ordered be returned to the United States (so far to no avail). And these deportations don’t even include the hundreds more students who have had their visas revoked thanks in part to former Trump critic Marco Rubio’s eager participation.
Rubio is worse than spineless. He is an organism, spine or no, who survives fully by devouring boot leather and whatever scant nutrients can be gleaned from the crannies of the wrinkly ass he collects a paycheck for kissing.
In his official capacity as secretary of state, Rubio continues to materially facilitate and publicly cheerlead for these cruel and arguably lawless deportations. This is not a spineless act. “Spineless” implies he’s caving to pressure, not enthusiastically performing the duties of a job he lobbied for and eagerly accepted. Rubio is worse than spineless. He is an organism, spine or no, who survives fully by devouring boot leather and whatever scant nutrients can be gleaned from the crannies of the wrinkly ass he collects a paycheck for kissing.
It would be so simple to not serve as secretary of state under Donald Trump. All you have to do is not. Think of the nearly 350 million people in the United States. How many of them have served as secretary of state under Donald Trump? No one you know, probably. And it’s likely no one that they know has done so either. Not secretary of state is a position that is so easy to fall into balls-backward. (Asses are always backward.) And yet, Marco Rubio, whose heart is essentially a condom full of human feces, managed to find himself there. That's not spinelessness; that’s specific and targeted effort.
So this week, our Dingus is Marco Rubio, who is worse than an invertebrate. He is a pillowcase stuffed to the brim with hemorrhoids.
Now, in better news as promised, here are some pictures of Maggie, aka Mags aka Magpie aka Mrs. Magoo. She is 4 years old, and she has been living with me and my wife for a month, and she is perfect.
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 | A guest post by
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So far this winter, I have had mice in the basement, squirrels in the attic, and now possibly some kind of unwanted insect on the main floor. In other words, the Trump administration writ small. I’ve hired a “removal team”. And there my written analogy shall end.
The doggie is adorable. I do love pugs, which are the only dog not bred for a job to have decent personalities. (I had a high school friend whose mother bred mini Pomeranians. Those dogs thought shoes were urinals.) My neighbor’s pug is a delight, and I have never met a pug I didn’t adore. I would much prefer to talk about pugs and other dogs than Marco Rubio, who is a bipedal cockroach.