Long-windedness has never been a problem for Los Angeles punk pioneers the Descendents. Recall, if you will, the band’s absolutely essential 1981 EP Fat, where “My Dad Sucks” was over in 38 seconds, “I Like Food” took only 17 seconds to say all it had to say, and “Weinerschnitzel” crashed and burned—gloriously so—in 12 seconds. The Descendents made a fast-and-furious name for themselves writing the kind of songs that made the Ramones seem like Rush channelling Iron Butterfly.

The long-running punk group has kept the quality of its recorded output admirably high since returning from an extended hiatus in 2010. In an accomplishment no one saw coming, 2016’s Hypercaffium Spazzinate bulldozed its way into the top 20 on the Billboard Charts.

But all that’s old history. We’re here today to talk about one of the smartest bands in the history of punk (singer Milo Aukerman worked as a biochemist and University of Delaware professor) taking dead aim at one of the stupidest presidents in American history.

The past couple of months haven’t been good ones for President Donald J. Trump. There’s been the small issue of getting his ass handed to him in the U.S. Presidential Election.

Last week he discovered that when you tell lunatics dressed like drunk vikings and the cast of Duck Dynasty to attack the U.S. Capitol, they’ll do exactly that. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and MySpace have since cancelled his social media accounts for spreading disinformation that encourages violence from the flaming fucking moron segment of society.

And today the Cheeto in Chief's daughter Ivanka was busted for refused to let the Secret Service agents who protect her and Count Kushner use the 6.5 crappers in their mansion. (Apparently, after months of hot-footing down the road to the considerably nicer Obamas, agents are now renting a toilet in a nearby building to the tune of US$3,000 per month.)

 https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1349782355687452675

Such rampant assholism deserves a proper send-off. And being old enough to remember when Ronald Reagan was punk's preferred whipping boy in the ’1980s, the Descendents have risen to the challenge.

The quartet’s new “That’s the Breaks” starts out with hot-shrapnel guitar, double-caffeinated drums, and the words “You asshole Twitter troll/Go home”. And things not only get better from there, but are over in a punishingly economical 43 seconds.

As for Donald J. Trump, if there’s a God, two years from now he’ll be behind the counter in a fast-food hat and uniform, leaning into a microphone and asking “Welcome to Der Weinerschnitzel/May I take your order please?”

Dare to dream.