It's Sunday

[O]n Thursday, the president* finished his qualifications for an extended run in the Fifth Circle of Hell by using the occasion of the National Prayer Breakfast—in which no president ever should participate, but that’s another argument for another day—to rage, fume, and whine against the awful fate which he so narrowly avoided. It was an astonishing profanation of the event, to say nothing of an exercise in public psychopathy.

He arrived at the event waving a newspaper with the banner headline “ACQUITTED” over his head and, when Dr. Arthur Brooks, the conservative religious leader in charge, made the mistake of referring to the obscure Christian concept of loving your enemies, the president* had a ready response to that heretical notion.

Arthur, I don't know if I agree with you.

At which point, the president* brought out the hammer and drove the nails into his own palms with his usual alacrity.

As everybody knows, my family, our great country and your president have been put through a terrible ordeal by some very dishonest and corrupt people. They have done everything possible to destroy us and by so doing very badly hurt our nation. They know what they are doing is wrong, but they put themselves far ahead of our great country.

[...]

As dozens of attendees stared into their fruit cups and longed for the sweet release of the Rapture, the president* continued to read from Paul’s Second Epistle to the Hannitites.

[...]

It is plain from the actions of this most heathen of presidents that Dante’s real problem was a lack of imagination. Hell can be so much worse.

  Charles P Pierce

Can I get an "Amen"?