Calling Captain Obvious

Exactly as Stevie Wonder could see even from space, the drumbeat of calls for Sen. Kneepads to convene the Cabinet and declare Emperor Poopypants mentally unfit to warm the chair in the Oval Office grows by the minute. Speaker Of the House Johnson wasn't shy at all Friday in saying that

if he were in Biden's Cabinet, "I would be having that discussion with my colleagues at the Cabinet level."

I wouldn't want to get overconfident, but it seems like, with the prospect of a Cornucopia Of Payback for Watergate in the wind, the Squish Party may have - finally, at long last - found its spinal column and testicles. Mirabile dictu!

From here on out, that drumbeat becomes a cacophony. All the Speaker has to do is shut down the Congress, at his sole discretion, indefinitely, and it's not a matter of if, but when.

No legislation. No floor debates. No ancillary business. No subcommittee meetings. No appropriations. No judicial or executive appointments. 80:20 the Speaker has the House sergeant at arms and Capitol Police hold the members on the premises for quorum calls indefinitely.

And the one thing the Republican majority House is guaranteed to do, and sooner rather than later, is start holding public hearings, after subpoenaing everyone in the Executive branch, about what they knew about Poopypants' profound mental incapacity, when they knew it, and who orchestrated covering up his condition. (And let's be serious: this was obvious to everyone but the In-The-Tank-For-The-2020-Coup crowd, in and out of government, for years now.)

The second-day hearing will be the public waterboardings of the entire Joint Chiefs Of Staff of the military branches, asking why or why not they have or haven't quietly replaced the nuclear football that's never more than two steps from any POTUS, and replaced the contents with coloring books and crayons.

If they say they have, they effectively ratify his incompetence, and admit to holding a soft coup themselves.

If they say they haven't, they admit their own incompetence and manifest unfitness for high command.

Having a few US Marshals standing by during their testimony with pre-filled out contempt of Congress citations and referrals for treason would probably do wonders for their collective candor and recollection. 

In any event, that question-and-answer session is going to be a fire-and-brimstone debacle of biblical proportions, followed inevitably by the most searing come-to-Jesus confessions from anytime since the Civil War.

Either way, it will be scorched earth, and Dementia Joe will be on a BBQ spit the entire time.

The meetings on government oversight on Day Three will be who, to the last detail, has been making executive decisions, and since when, starting five seconds after Biden's inauguration.

There will be a stack of blank arrest warrants for that one, ready to be referred to the US Attorney for Washington DC, who's going to either become the busiest man in DC, or the first one strung up for treason.

At that point, in the memorable words of Don Henley, "somebody's going to emergency, somebody's going to jail", and in a New York minute.

Stock up on frosty beverages and popcorn.

And depending on what one unelected black-robed jackass in NYFC thinks he can do next week, you might want to check your inventory of olive drab cans.

This is the kind of thing where, historically, countries go pear-shaped out of nowhere, and then everywhere.