There are few things more deliciously pathetic than listening to some Republican commentator or think tank denizen appearing on your mighty cable news programs of doom to proclaim, after last night, that the virginal Grand Ol' Party will save itself from the ongoing ravaging by the bestial Donald Trump. Like a damsel in distress tied to the railroad tracks awaiting the brave cowboy who will save her, Republicans believe that John Kasich will ride in just as the train is about to cut them in three. Or that the magical Brokered Convention will rescue their party from the black hole of Trump's savage maw, and Paul Ryan or Mitt Romney will yank them free from the event horizon, ready to let them float on like they always do, on an endless universe of money and demagoguery and intentional incompetence.
These delusional fantasies of the fevered imaginations of the frantic Republicans will fade as the convention draws closer, as they all realize that there is but one direction for the party, and that is into Donald Trump's flabby arms. Or, more precisely, Trump has bent the Republican body over a table, ripped off its pants and underwear, and is viciously fucking away at it with his oh, no, really, not-tiny dick, cooing in its ear, "Yeah, you like that, right? Right? Tell me I'm huge," the Republican Party unable to figure out if it should resist and risk getting beaten more or just let it happen and hope it's over with quickly. Yeah, it's that grim, it's that dark, it's that awful.
And the individual Republicans themselves have to figure out what they must do. Do they just stand there while Trump rapes the shit out of the basis for their political lives? Or do they tell him to stop and do whatever it takes to stop him, even ripping him off the Republican Party, throwing him to the floor, and beating him if tries to get close to its ass again? It won't matter. It's far too late. The fucking will continue. You just have to ask yourself if you're going to abet it or go out with a fight.
This is who you are, Republicans, and, c'mon, it's who you've been for a while now, even if you deny it. And you can blame it all on Great God Reagan. Yep, once the Most Sainted Gipper allowed the crazies from the religious right to have a seat at the table of American power beyond their behind-the-scenes role of manipulating their devolved parishioners, once Reagan allowed Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson sway over even the smallest part of American social policy, the die was cast, man, and at some point we were gonna get here. And since you can't unfuck something, if we don't stop this shit now, it will only get worse.The GOP may say that Trump was speaking "figuratively" about "riots" if he is denied the nomination, but that shit will happen.
The other deliciously pathetic thing is that Republicans are so fucking trapped, one could almost feel something akin to pity (although, in this context, that means something like "Stab that fish in the head so it stops flopping around"), but they keep stumbling over their own dicks as they attempt to pretend that they are anything more than sentient road blocks. After President Obama nominated the eminently too-reasonable Merrick Garland, a dude who had a comic book collection and helped convict real, actual terrorists, Senate Majority Leader Mitch "Should Neck Skin Look Like That?" McConnell announced that Garland can go fuck himself. How fucking petty and ridiculous can a group of humans look? We're likely going to find out.
Every move Republicans make now is done in the shadow of the inevitable Trump nomination. Republicans will lose the Senate in November, maybe the House, as Trump burns out like a meteor in the atmosphere. The question will only be how much damage he'll do when he hits the ground. The most honorable thing would be to just close up shop until 2020. Take a mulligan on this election. Rebuild. Rebrand. Maybe search a soul or two.
Aw, who are we kidding here? You're just gonna watch the ongoing violation and spray beer on the party to celebrate.