EDITOR’S NOTE: The Gohmert Awards, AKA the “Gomeys”, are bestowed in this space to honour the memory of dear, departed Louie Gohmert, now retired, but throughout his lengthy Congressional tenure maybe the flat-out stupidest GOP incumbent ever to clog up the (not coincidentally) completely dysfunctional House of Representatives. Readers may no longer remember him, so scanty were his substantive career highlights, but we here at the Needlefish can never forget such a legendary, abjectly ignorant dumbass. Oh, the exquisitely moronic things Louie both said and did, serving proudly as part of the decision-making apparatus of what was then the most dominant nation in history!
Truly, Louie Gohmert, perhaps the most thoroughly witless knucklehead ever to hold elected office anywhere, ever, in the entire history of the free world, was enough of a hapless dimwit to make even the likes of Tommy Tuberville look like Nikola Tesla. You just have to pay some sort of homage to that, so over the years, it’s been our practice, and indeed our unmitigated delight, to bestow Gomeys upon Republicans who repeatedly manage, almost unbelievably, almost, indeed, in defiance of natural law, to behave with the same dumbfounding degree of brainstem-governed anencephaly typical of the award’s namesake.
Today, we keep the tradition alive.
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Congratulations to Missouri’s own Senator Eric Schmitt! Missouri, you’ll recall, bills itself as the “show me” State, as derived from the skeptical, supposedly quintessentially mid-western slogan that goes “I’m from Missouri, and you’re going to have to show me”. Well, have a look at this, and appreciate the amazing extent to which their Senator most definitely showed something to the folks who sent him to Washington:
OH MY WEEPING CRESTFALLEN CHRIST, what an irredeemable arsehole. What a smug, smirking, bullying, bullshit extrusion machine.
What we have here is the GOP-dominated Senate Judicial Committee doing its best, as led by Chief Inquisitor Schmitt, to humiliate former Special Counsel Jack Smith, who once had Trump dead to rights on various criminal charges, and was poised to toss the orange idiot’s bloated ass into the five bar motel, before the rat bastard went and got himself re-elected President. The goal, as part of The Donald’s overarching retribution campaign against anyone who ever tried to hold him accountable for his myriad crimes, was to trap Smith into saying something under oath that could expose him to a charge of perjury. It didn’t have to be anything relevant or important. They just had to catch him in a lie, any lie they could claim to have extracted, and then boy oh boy at long last they’d have him.
Schmitt, relying on fantastically incompetent staff work, thought he had just the thing: supposed proof, based somehow upon somebody’s text messages, that Smith attended a basketball game in Atlanta on a specific date. And why in pluperfect Hell would that matter? Tell you the truth, it’s hard to say. It has something to do with an alleged temporal proximity to the date upon which Fani Willis, the Fulton County DA prosecuting Trump and his henchmen for Donald’s notorious efforts to overturn the 2020 election results in Georgia, admitted to a sexual affair with a co-worker (we don’t have the space here to discuss why in the fuck that mattered at all as it related – or, rather, didn’t relate – to Trump’s well documented program of illegal election interference). It seems there’s some sort of fever swamp conspiracy theory in which Jack Smith went to Georgia so he could, well, it isn’t exactly clear, but maybe somehow manage damage control, or exonerate Fani Willis, or, you know, do something nefarious, we’ll tell you later once we connect all the dirty dots.
Except, as becomes obvious as Schmitt’s gloating line of questioning proceeds, and as Democratic committee member Amy Klobachar explains, God bless her, that Jack Smith wasn’t in Atlanta that day, didn’t attend that game, and was, in fact, in a whole other town, watching a whole other match, in which a college team with a name similar to that of the NBA squad from Atlanta – the Iowa “Hawkeyes”, as opposed to the Atlanta “Hawks” – was playing. Schmitt is just plain wrong. Completely. Demonstrably, with a minimum of effort. His grossly negligent staffers have left his silly, lily-white Republican ass flapping in the cold, cold breeze.
Of course this doesn’t stop him from declaring that the impeccable, unimpeachable Jack Smith has perjured himself, and is, in Schmitt’s characteristically elegant turn of phrase, a “dirtbag”. Jack Smith. The guy who once prosecuted war criminals at The Hague. A dirtbag.
Yeah, sure, you go, Eric. This fuckin’ guy, recently touted as a possible 2028 VP candidate on the hypothetical Vance ticket, was quite right, as visions of political sugarplums danced in his empty head, that he was finally in the limelight and setting himself up for a career-defining moment. He just didn’t grasp, as he smirked and preened and all but wet himself out of sheer glee, that he’d unwittingly career-defined himself as one of the biggest dicks ever to suck up precious space in what nobody still calls “the world’s greatest deliberative body”.
Here’s a typical post-mortem, and again, Senator Klobachar, God bless you:
Here you go, Eric. Sorry about those dashed Presidential aspirations.
Worthless shitweasel.
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My political eulogy for the great Louie Gohmert:
