I must admit, I knew nothing about Rep. Tulsi Gabbard from Hawaii before about three hours ago. If Tulsi Gabbard had burst into my home holding a giant check for millions of dollars while my wife was gone, and I were left to my own devices to explain the day’s events to my wife when she returned, I’d have totally forgotten Gabbard’s name between her exit and my wife’s return. If she surfaced in a new, authentic photo with Biggie and Jim Morrison on her verified Instagram, her presence in said photo would be mere flotsam in the tidal wave of media reaction.
While every bit of that may be true, I don’t feel in any way ashamed for adding Gabbard to my list of heroes, and neither should you.
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After the killing of journalist Jamal Khashoggi at the behest of Saudi Arabian prince Mohammad bin Salman, a fact pattern established and backed up by the CIA, Donald Trump released a statement standing by the house of Saud for a host of nakedly ambitious, egregiously capitalist reasons.
Gabbard, it seems, would’ve preferred he saved all 600-something words of that shit.
Trump has yet to respond to Gabbard’s remarks. From the looks of the tweet closest to her callout, Trump was still fellating a gas pump:
Doesn’t look like he got the message.
Straight From 
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