How was your weekend? It’s finally summer, good for grilling or hanging out outdoors, and it was also Father’s Day, a fine time to celebrate family and loved ones. Do you know who was not spending the day over a charcoal fire in mesh shorts and an old T-shirt? Donald Trump’s personal attorney Jay Sekulow, who was the latest of the president’s lackeys ushered before the cameras to defend some insane shit that his boss tweeted.
The Washington Post published a story last week revealing that special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation into Russian meddling in the election had expanded to directly include the president himself. For people hoping that this investigation might eventually oust Trump just a few months into his presidency, this was very good news. Trump later confirmed the report, tweeting:
This would count as confirmation—that is, anywhere except the world of the Trump administration, wherein an enfeebled, meatloaf-fed old racist’s mid-morning online grievances are alternately treated as gospel and not, where his tweets are simultaneously a direct funnel to his supporters and a little hobby of his that we shouldn’t pay much attention to. We have seen the back-breaking work of upholding these two versions of reality create, for Kellyanne Conway, the phrase “alternative facts,” and for Sean Spicer, a cognitive dissonance so unbearable that he hid in some bushes rather than talk to reporters.
In the case of Sekulow’s Shitty Sunday, though, we got to watch him melt in real-time. First he squared off against the steely objectivity of Face The Nation’s John Dickerson: