Hello, it's the weekend. This is The Weekender ☕

As Rep. George Santos' (R-NY) short, spectacular career comes to its ignominious end, we bid farewell with a tear on our cheek and heaviness in our heart. 

It's a bleak time, with the threat of our decaying democracy, citizen disengagement and the next critical, must-win election stalking our heels. We're buffeted by violent wars and congressional dysfunction and an all-powerful, super-activist Supreme Court. The darkness comes early and the nights are long. 

But in the tension and the worry, we could always turn to George Santos, the malevolent goober who always vacillated between the (allegedly) criminal and the ludicrous. The generational conman who never covered his tracks, allowing us to luxuriate in the spoils of his skullduggery: Botox, an OnlyFans subscription, the Baruch volleyball team, Ferragamo, the random baby.

He was daily a headline generator, almost admirable in the sheer tonnage of misdeeds he accumulated by the tender age of 35. 

On Thursday morning, his breath puffing white, he mounted a strange and strangely boring defense, careening from the conspiracy of it all to defending the Jan. 6 rioters. A garbage truck idled nearby, muffling his words. The sun broke over the House office buildings he'd soon be jettisoned from, giving the spectacle a holy light. 

Later in the day, he sat towards the front of the House chamber while his colleagues railed against him. 

"Dear God, Mr. Speaker, my future former colleague is divorced from reality," Rep. Marc Molinaro (R-NY) boomed, Santos looking on from feet away. 

Even his few defenders found it difficult to sustain a robust defense. 

"I rise not to defend George Santos — whoever he is — but to defend the very precedent my colleagues are willing to shatter," Rep. Matt Gatez (R-FL) intoned. 

Santos is done politically, and likely done, at least for a while, as a free man. But it was nice — dare I say, fun — to spend time with this Republican crook whose harm was somewhat limited and whose entertainment value never dipped. The man will fade from relevance, but the name, the legend, will live on. 

And for that, Mr. Santos — whoever you are — we salute you.

More on other news below. Let's dig in. 

— Kate Riga

It Was Italygate All The Way Down

Trump and his allies threw so many different theories explaining away his 2020 defeat to the vagaries of fraud or foreign interference that it's hard to keep track. But of the different theories onto which they glommed, my personal favorite is, and will always remain, Italygate.

It holds that an Italian defense contractor named Leonardo used a network of military satellites to zap voting machines, thereby switching votes from Biden to Trump. That's the basic structure of the theory, but adherents of the fantasy have built out an elaborate extended universe since the election in which Barack Obama arranged a massive bribe via the United Arab Emirates.

We were reminded this week of why Italygate is relevant. Text messages cited in an apparently inadvertently released court opinion show Rep. Scott Perry (R-PA) pushing the theory in the last days of Trump's attempt to overturn his loss. Perry, per the texts, tried to arrange a call between Trump and Italy's then-Prime Minister; on the evening of January 6, Perry was asking one of his legislative directors whether the theory was true.

Perry was influential then and now. He pushed for Trump to appoint Jeff Clark as acting attorney general in a bid to enlist the DOJ in his self-coup attempt, and now chairs the House Freedom Caucus. Mamma mia.

— Josh Kovensky

Convict In Chief

It's January 20, 2025 and President Trump is being inaugurated. At the same time, let's say, Trump has either been convicted or still faces charges in either of the two federal cases against him. It would be a genuinely bizarre and unprecedented situation: the man in charge of federal law enforcement being subject to prosecution by federal law enforcement.

What then?

The short answer is that nobody really knows. However, Trump would at least have options for how to make the cases go away, potentially placing elements of the DOJ firmly under his thumb in the process. Pre-conviction would be relatively easy: direct prosecutors to dismiss the case.

Post-conviction, things get way more tricky. There's no real federal means to expunge convictions; Trump would have to direct DOJ attorneys to explain why the cases against him were unjust (he's been practicing) to have the conviction vacated. He could pardon himself, but the man himself said this year that it would look bad. Sad!

— Josh Kovensky

"Hunter Biden is trying to play by his own rules instead of following the rules required of everyone else. That won't stand with House Republicans. Our lawfully issued subpoena to Hunter Biden requires him to appear for a deposition on December 13. We expect full cooperation with our subpoena for a deposition but also agree that Hunter Biden should have opportunity to testify in a public setting at a future date."

That's House Oversight Committee Chair James Comer (R-KY) accusing the President's son of playing "by his own rules" and not "following the rules" after Hunter Biden agreed to ... follow the rules and appear for a deposition in response to Comer's subpoena.

It's a nonsensical response that gave Comer cover to deny Hunter Biden's one request tied to his appearance before the committee — that the hearing be made public instead of held behind closed doors. If House Republicans actually bought what they're selling — they've been proclaiming loudly for months that they have mountains of evidence that justify a Joe Biden impeachment inquiry — rejecting Hunter Biden's request would be a baffling move. 

Instead it's just another example of how unserious House Republicans' sham investigations into the Biden family are. 

— Nicole Lafond