While our President was overseas showing Montenegro
who's boss and arm wrestling France for control of NATO,
the job of swinging dick domestically
fell to a surrogate.
Welcome back.
The top story, of course, is body-slam-gate,
if you want to call it that. - No, Chuck.
Nobody wants to call it that.
I'll tell it.
Last week's special election in Montana
pitted a politically inexperienced
folk singer against a billionaire
young earth creationist.
Because why should the people writing our laws
know shit about shit?
Once Republicans realized that you can't gerrymander a state
with only one congressional district
and that yanking people's health care
is about as popular as a gray wolf, they got nervous.
So when a reporter asked Gianforte
his position on Trumpcare, the candidate
deflected the question thusly.
Gianforte grabbed him by the neck, both hands,
slid him to the side, body slammed him, and then
got on top of him and started punching
and then yelling at him.
Jesus, Greg!
A body slam?
If you don't want to answer questions about Trump's agenda,
just hide in the bushes like Sean Spicer.
This brings us to our segment on toxic testosterone.
Democracy 2017, brought to you by Axe
Body Spray and Creatine powder.
Watch this segment, or I'll pile drive you!
Of course, the far right pundit sewer immediately
gushed to Greg's defense, calling his victim a crybaby,
a pajama boy, a lying wuss, and portraying him
as a grade school tattletale for reporting
the incident because only a pussy reports
assault to the police.
A real man lies and claims the wuss hit him first.
Yeah.
The only thing that statement was missing
was "Dear Penthouse Forum" at the beginning.
To bolster this lie, the campaign
released a terrifying simulation of the nerd rage incident.
Worst of all, Bernie Sanders stood by
and did nothing to stop it.
When Gianforte's Greedo-shot-first story fell
apart and he had safely won the election,
he apologized, kind of.
Last night, I made a mistake.
And I should not have responded in the way that I did.
And for that, I'm sorry.
That's not the person that I am.
Yes, that am the person you am.
Calling an unprovoked body slam a mistake
is like a rapist saying, I tripped
and my dick fell into her.
I don't think the party of personal responsibility
is gonna buy it.
All that the national Republican
Congressional Campaign Committee said was,
quote, "we all make mistakes."
He made a bad mistake.
I think he made a mistake.
He made a stupid mistake.
Everyone makes a mistake.
People make mistakes.
I certainly make mistakes on a daily basis.
A mistake's when you throw out your credit card bill.
A mistake is when you forget to RSVP to a dinner party.
A mistake is when the gardener's miss trash day and the barrels
are full for a week.
This, my girl, was not a mistake.
Gianforte then broke Emily Gilmore's arm
for calling him my girl.
Whoopsie!
Absent strong condemnation from anyone they respect,
a lot of Montana voters felt free to celebrate Gianforte
as a poor billionaire everyman bravely standing up
to the all-powerful media as embodied by a waifish newsie
who looks like the cover photo for "Near-sighted Jew Monthly."
The conversation I had with a woman at a polling place
yesterday, she started to walk away
and turned around and said, you know what?
Some of you reporters have it coming.
My GOP voter to me just now, knowing I work for CNN.
That audio made me cheer.
People coming out with excuses about how he had it coming.
There were some folks who said that reporters had it coming.
You're lucky someone doesn't pop one of you.
Oh, this is a regional slang.
See, in the Midwest, pop means soda.
And in Montana, pop means back over you with my truck.
But before any of you cold brew sipping Brooklynites
get all superior, let's not forget this fine specimen
of Staten Island manhood.
WOMAN: The former Marine who faces a 20-count indictment was
caught on tape threatening a reporter who
dared to ask about it.
Why--
Yes, like a boy because as everyone knows,
boys are scored down the middle like a Kit Kat bar
for optimal breaking.
[CRUNCHING]
Once everyone in his district saw that video,
Grimm got what was coming to him--
a third term in office.
Then, jail, because what he really liked to break
was tax laws.
Threats against journalists have gotten so bad
that NPR started giving their political reporters
hostile-environment awareness training
during the 2016 election.
You can learn more about it on their new show,
"Wait Wait Don't Kill Me!"
Of course, like all conversations about the death
of American norms and human decency,
this one inevitably turned to the bloated orange elephant
in the room.
It's embarrassing, and it's shameful.
This is Trump America.
He created this culture.
Oh, bullshit.
Trump doesn't create anything.
He just slaps his name on things and makes them worse.
Look, say what you like about Trump.
He doesn't physically assault male reporters.
Did he provide a focus for roid-rage culture?
Sure.
He rode into office on a wave of assholes like a crowd surfer
at a Kid Rock concert.
But there has always been an undercurrent
of testosterone-fueled cruelty in America, a nation where
there was no greater demonstration of strength
than hitting a brown person in the face
with your rock-hard boner.
The triumphant impunity of Gamergate trolls, the Bundy
occupiers, and George Zimmerman told
America's shy bullies, its OK.
You are accepted.
Be yourself.
We won't judge you.
Neither will a judge.
I think the hoodie is as much responsible
for Trayvon Martin's death as George Zimmerman was.
Which is why the hoodie is doing 25 to life,
while Zimmerman is still running around pointing
guns at girlfriends.
I imagine Trump was watching Fox right then and realized, hey,
America is ready for me.
My point is we can't just wait for moral leadership
from a guy who thinks shooting people on Fifth Avenue
is an applause line.
We are all Jennifer Lawrence in "Winter's Bone" now.
Dad's gone.
Mom's useless.
We're on our own.
We just got to teach ourselves how to fry a squirrel
and solve our problems without violence, unless we want to end
up like Jennifer Lawrence in that other movie
where everyone kicks the shit out of each other
to survive while the nice guy hides in the mud hoping no one
sees him. Come on, guys.
Left, right.
We are in this together.
Let's not let the district-one assholes always win.
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