Thanks for Nothing

On forced gratitude and mandatory applause.

Jesus. Mary. Joseph.

It’s been quite the week. Plus it’s Lent so Fish Fridays are back.

Where to begin?

We could talk about the debacle in the Oval Office, which was like the worst group therapy session ever, starring JD Vance as the designated attack chihuahua yipping at Zelenskyy to thank us. HAVE YOU SAID THANK YOU ONCE? HAVE YOU SAID THANK YOU? KNEEL BEFORE ZOD SON OF UKRAINE.

But let’s start with five things we’ve done in the past week to prove that we’re productive employees before we get fired by DOGE.

5 Things Eileen has Done in the Past Week to Prove that She’s a Productive Employee

1. Dominated the NYT Spelling Bee using all the hints

2. Shredded personal documents

3. Listened to a full season of “Against the Odds: Crash in a Volcano” on Wondery

4. Stocked up on gold bullion

5. Aced 36 BuzzFeed quizzes

That’s not all. I’m also spending the better part of my workday on the phone begging the Irish consulate to grant me Irish citizenship. My great-grandparents came over from Ireland. Check the roster. Their names were “Grandpa” and “Nana.”

In case you missed it, and I sincerely hope you did, Tuesday night’s joint session before Congress wasn’t so much of a “speech” as it was a “stream of consciousness of a deranged lunatic suffering from intermittent memory lapses and perilous delusions with global ramifications.” Fun.

But let’s face it. It really didn’t matter how many lies Trump told or derogatory remarks he made because he had the freaking Smothers brothers sitting behind him smirking and applauding everything he said. I’ve never seen the speaker smile that much. He must have hit a small immigrant child with his car on the way there.

When Trump berated the Democrats in attendance (like eight total, before Bernie Sanders left early) for not standing and clapping for him, Vance stood up and shouted, HAVE YOU SAID THANK YOU.

A few of the women dressed in pink and white, apparently to show their support for women’s rights but looked more like a sad middle school Valentine’s Day dance. Some other Democrats were holding tiny little signs in protest saying “Save Medicaid,” “False” and “Kill Me.”

The whole thing was a… I’m trying to find a replacement word for shitshow but am coming up short… shitshow of epic proportions. I couldn’t tell who looked more depressed, Melania or Marco Rubio. Well, good luck trying to find antidepressants under RFK Jr.’s Department of Health. You can, however, have all the measles you want.

Now, it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, Trump is the Emperor in “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” It’s that old folk tale by that tongue-in-cheek rascal Hans Christian Andersen about the impossibly vain emperor who is duped by a couple of con men posing as tailors and promising to make him a bunch of the finest clothes.

But there’s a catch. The con men say that only smart people can see the actual clothes. So clearly no one wants to admit that they can’t see his outfits and that he is, indeed, horrifyingly naked.

So off went the Emperor in procession under his splendid canopy. Everyone in the streets and the windows said, "Oh, how fine are the Emperor's new clothes! Don't they fit him to perfection? And see his long train!" Nobody would confess that he couldn't see anything, for that would prove him either unfit for his position, or a fool. No costume the Emperor had worn before was ever such a complete success.

But then some kid yells out that he’s not actually wearing anything. I’m sure you can guess the moral of the story. The kid was stupid.

This book has been banned in school libraries for obvious reasons.