Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Mike Johnson, the self-anointed God Warrior of the House, struts around with his gavel like it’s the staff of Moses, but the only thing he ever manages to part is common sense. This is the man, the baby Speaker, who is once again threatening to shut down the government—not because Democrats want to rewrite the Constitution, not because they’re demanding socialism or free puppies for everyone, but because they asked for one small thing: remove the GOP’s “right of rescission” from the continuing resolution. That’s it. The tiniest tweak to keep the lights on. But Johnson, backed by his band of ghouls in red ties, would rather burn down the entire government than give Democrats the satisfaction of fixing a problem.

And let’s remember: Mike Johnson and his GOP wrecking crew haven’t actually passed a budget. Not one. Not since he picked up the gavel. The “fiscally responsible” Republican Party is running the country on Nancy Pelosi’s budget like freeloaders crashing at their ex’s apartment, still eating her groceries while screaming about how awful she is. Every continuing resolution is a Pelosi hand-me-down, but somehow Johnson and his cult of chaos spin this as leadership. If this is leadership, then a three-year-old in a tantrum aisle at Walmart is a statesman.

But Johnson isn’t just a failure at governance—he’s also a hypocrite of biblical proportions. This self-proclaimed devout Christian has shattered one of the Ten Commandments in full view of the world. “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image”? Please. Johnson practically polishes the golden calf himself: an idol with an oversized red tie, an orange-tinted face, and hair that looks like it was spun from fool’s gold. Donald J. Trump isn’t just his political leader—he’s his deity. Johnson and the GOP don’t worship God anymore. They worship Trump, the twice-impeached, four-times-indicted false prophet of Mar-a-Lago. Sunday sermons are for show; the real altar is at a rally, lit by MAGA hats and cheap fireworks.

And Johnson is far from alone in this disgrace. The entire Republican Party has followed him into this pit of idolatry. They don’t legislate; they litigate against democracy itself. They don’t solve problems; they create crises and then blame Democrats for cleaning up the mess. They pretend to care about the debt but will gleefully tank the economy if it means sticking it to Joe Biden. They claim to defend freedom but spend their days attacking women’s rights, voting rights, and basic human decency. It’s not a political party anymore—it’s a doomsday cult with a tax break.

The GOP’s strategy these days is simple: break the government, cry that the government doesn’t work, then demand more power to fix the mess they created. Johnson is just the latest empty suit in this endless parade of incompetence. He’s not leading, he’s babysitting—a squabbling caucus of arsonists who want credit for burning down the building while demanding hazard pay.

What makes it all worse is the sanctimony. Johnson cloaks himself in religion and righteousness while leading a party of grifters, liars, and sycophants. They call themselves patriots while cheering on a man who tried to overturn an election. They call themselves Christians while erecting golden shrines to a conman who wouldn’t recognize humility or honesty if it bit him in the spray tan. They claim to be for “the people,” yet every action they take proves they’re only for themselves—and for the bloated ego of the man-child they’ve enthroned as their false messiah.

So here we are again: government on the brink of shutdown, not because Democrats are intractable, but because the GOP refuses to govern. Johnson and his Republican colleagues would rather hold the country hostage than admit Nancy Pelosi’s budget is the only thing keeping the lights on. They’d rather worship at Trump’s altar than actually serve the people they were elected to represent.

History will remember Johnson and this GOP not as leaders, but as vandals—cowards who mistook obstruction for strategy, who confused idolatry for faith, who chose loyalty to a golden-haired fraud over duty to the Constitution. They are not guardians of democracy. They are its saboteurs.

And when the government shutters and chaos follows, Mike Johnson won’t be Moses leading his people to the Promised Land. He’ll be the guy clutching his Bible in one hand, his gavel in the other, and bowing to the graven image in the red tie—while the rest of America pays the price for his cowardice.