Comey Interview Irks Agents

The Leftist Daily Beast blog contacted longtime FBI agents to see their reaction to former FBI chief James Comey’s interview last night.

Jana Winter recorded their reactions. As you’ll read, it finally broke the loyalty of one FBI colleague while others “reacted with disbelief as their former boss pontificated.”

James Comey’s first interview since President Trump fired him as director of the FBI has enraged his former agents who deluged the Daily Beast with their disdain as they watched him tell his side of the story to George Stephanopoulos on Sunday night.

The Daily Beast communicated with seven current or former FBI agents and officials throughout and immediately after the broadcast. There was a lot of anger, frustration, and even more emojis—featuring the thumbs-down, frowny face, middle finger, and a whole lot of green vomit faces.

One former FBI official sent a bourbon emoji as it began; another sent the beers cheering emoji. The responses became increasingly angry and despondent as the hour-long interview played out.

“Hoover is spinning in his grave,” said one former FBI official. “Making money from total failure.”

When a promo aired between segments announcing Comey’s upcoming interview with The View, the official grew angrier.

“Good lord, what a self-serving self-centered jackass,” the official said. “True to form he thinks he’s the smartest guy around.”

There was one former official who spoke out in support of Comey, saying the former director had seemed honest and heartfelt. “I thought he was highly trustworthy and very transparent, like watching someone in confession,” the former official said. “It seems like he’s still wrestling with it.”

The six others who spoke to The Daily Beast did not respond positively to the interview by its end.

One longtime Team Comey source—who is still an FBI agent—sent thumbs-up emojis repeatedly during the first half hour, but even this loyalist began to lose patience by the halfway mark—sending a frowny face. A few minutes later there was a nauseous emoji, and then a poop emoji after the final segment.

Another former FBI official not historically known for their use of emojis, sent a bowing emoji which—they explained in a follow up message—they believed to mean “slamming my head into something, obviously.”

The former FBI director was fired by President Trump on May 9, 2017. Comey responded by leaking his memos about conversations with Trump to the New York Times, which kick-started the now-ongoing Special Counsel investigation led by Comey’s predecessor Robert Mueller. That investigation focuses on Russia influencing the 2016 election and any potential connections, assistance or cooperation of those in Trump’s orbit.

Comey quickly wrote a book about his experiences with Trump, which comes out this week. The interview with ABC News’ George Stephanopoulos was the first stop of his book publicity tour.

The much-anticipated book has been met with less than positive responses from those on the Hillary Clinton campaign.

Comey has been named by Hillary Clinton as a major reason for her loss in 2016. Clinton insiders told The Daily Beast that Comey should “beg for forgiveness” not use his book to try and explain away his actions.

Comey publicly announced that he was reopening the investigation into Clinton’s use of a private email server, but he made no mention of the simultaneous inquires being made into Russian links to members of Trump’s team.

This was seen by many inside the FBI as Comey inserting the agency into the campaign, which was especially unwise coming so close to the election when the agency tries to abstain from anything that could have political consequences.

Comey’s ouster by Trump came as a surprise to him—and everyone else—and resulted in what appeared to be a massive outpouring of support from within the FBI and those close to the bureau—there were even t-shirts printed bearing Comey’s face.

FBI sources who did not support Comey’s decision to announce the reopening of the Clinton email investigation still stood by him at the time and were outraged at the way in which Trump fired the director. He learned of his dismissal after reading it on a television screen inside the Los Angeles FBI building where he was speaking to agents.

Those same current and former FBI agents and officials—and others—did not respond well to Comey’s interview Sunday night.

Support for Comey has dwindled as those who worked closely with him and initially supported him began to see his book and his public interactions—including Twitter selfies in Iowa—as self-serving and gauche, four sources said.

Their anger has grown in recent months as agents have come to see Comey as the reason for the “current shitshow… that is the Trump presidency” one former official, who voted for Trump, explained.

Hence the onslaught of emojis when the interview with Comey began airing Sunday night. The final message sent by one source early Monday morning was the bright red SOS emoji.

FBI Chief Comey-dian

A writer at the Washington Post – no less – has served up a hilarious slab of parody of James Comey’s soon to be released book.
Before you read it, it’s good to know that Reinhold Niebuhr was a 20th century American theologian who advocated Christian realism. That beliefe proposes that “the Kingdom of God cannot be realized on earth because of the innately corrupt tendencies of society. Due to the injustices that arise on earth, a person is therefore forced to compromise the ideal of the kingdom of heaven on Earth.”
Christianity Today said, Niebuhr “commands respect from left (Jimmy Carter, Barack Obama) and right (John McCain, David Brooks).” That tells you something, doesn’t it?

Recently James Comey posted some religious comments on Twitter using that name. Writer of this piece, Alexandra Petri, has a lot of fun with the sanctimonious Comey.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God, and then, on Dec. 14, 1960, I, James Comey, was born. The initials, as Reinhold Niebuhr would tell us, are no coincidence.

I have been called a human humblebrag. I certainly couldn’t speak to the truth of that statement, except to say that where I come from, we don’t like bullies and their mean words. Bullies are mean and small, not like myself (I stand 6-foot-8, with a head of lush dark hair and eyes that pierce into the souls of everyone I encounter, like the eyes of a hawk who has read Reinhold Niebuhr (I wrote my thesis on Reinhold Niebuhr.)).

I would venture to say that I am the protagonist of my own life and perhaps the lives of many others. Certainly, no one else has as yet stood up to take on this grave responsibility, and it was my honor to rise to this challenge. It is a little embarrassing to describe myself: I stand, as mentioned, about 6-foot-8, like an oak with a firm sense of right and wrong and large, capacious hands. When I first seized Donald Trump’s, I took a mental note (and later, a physical note; I maintain scrupulous contemporaneous notes) that they had vanished into mine, like a dormouse curled up inside an oven mitt. But most hands do that when confronted with mine, except President Barack Obama’s, and — I hope — Reinhold Niebuhr’s, if we ever meet, in this life or the next.

Not to draw any parallels to my time as a prosecutor against the Mob, but when I met Donald Trump, one couldn’t help but note certain similarities. Donald Trump would frequently ask me if I would like to be “made,” but I made a point to fob him off with a joke, saying, “I think I’ve been made already, Donald Trump, by a far higher power, as Reinhold Niebuhr would suggest.” Donald Trump did not laugh at these jokes. He never once laughed in my presence. I think it is a grave danger to democracy for a man never to laugh.

After we met, I glanced over at Jeff Sessions to see what he thought of it all, and although he spoke not a word his pursed, pink lips seemed to say that he was a weak, small man with no gumption. He was pleading with me with his downcast eyes to do the right thing. With my eyes I said right back, I will. I always have. I never swerve from what I believe, and you can bet a shiny nickel that I never will, sir.

Thank you, Jeff Sessions’s eyes whispered. They glistened like marbles that were wet from being held in a dog’s mouth. As I stared at them I wondered: Has this man read the writings of Reinhold Niebuhr? I have read the writings of Reinhold Niebuhr.

I kept trying to read the Constitution to Donald Trump, but he did not take to it. I gave out mints to all my staff with their copy of “Lean In,” and with those mints, I included a line from the Constitution. But when I tried to impart a lesson, he ate the wrapper and spat it out in my face.

One rough patch in my life was when I kept making announcements about Hillary Clinton. In my defense, her facial expression had given me no clear command. She was a woman with a circular, smooth face and hair the color of Old Testament wheat. I am sad to hear that she has still not forgiven me. All that I can offer to her is the fact that Reinhold Niebuhr says that forgiveness is the final form of love. If that is not enough to persuade her, I do not know what to say.

I truly believed she would win, and I have never been wrong before. Nor have I ever done nothing wrong, ever, in my life. I once saw George Washington chopping down a cherry tree. He had a ruddy, weathered face and small moons beneath his eyes, I assumed from making use of a surveyor’s tools. “What are you doing there, George?” I said, according to my contemporaneous notes.

George Washington looked at me like a little boy caught with his hand in the candy jar. “Jim,” he said, “are you going to tell?”

“I’m going to count on you to do the right thing, George,” I said. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, one that I treasure almost as much as my integrity. I treasure integrity above all things.

I therefore wished to make certain that no fleck of uncertainty besmirched the white sepulcher of her legitimacy. I can understand why she would be hurt, however.

President Obama and I shared a relationship of mutual respect and many handshakes. We often had entire conversations with only our eyebrows. I consider him a worthy colleague, and I will miss those eyebrow chats.

After the election he told me that “I picked you to be FBI director because of your integrity and your ability, and I want you to know that nothing — NOTHING — that has happened in the past year has changed my view.” Tears filled my eyes. We embraced. I stared at the pleasing smoothness of the skin beneath his eyes and thought, “This man understands the role of the FBI in American society.”

Every other Democrat that I have ever met, with the exception of Hillary Clinton, also came up to me at some point or other and told me that I acted with perfect integrity and was in an impossible position. I treasured each of these remarks in my heart, as Mary did.

“And a sword shall pierce your side.”

After the election, I had to share with the president some news about a very salacious tape.

The president was gravely upset because of reports that he had participated in two activities, one that no one in the Comey household participates in at all, and the other an activity that we are careful to restrict to the porcelain bowl where it belongs. In my house, we hold hygiene above everything — except, of course, integrity.

President Trump told me that, as a germaphobe, he would never have partaken in the activity described, and that as a man, he would never have employed the personnel described, but I knew from the size and shape of the suite that as much as several liters could have been expended with no danger to his person. I wonder, too, if his remark about the personnel was one made with perfect self-knowledge. I debated internally whether to volunteer any of this information, and managed a small, rueful smile.

The president kept bothering me about the so-called urinary record. I did not know what to tell him. He seemed very eager to have the “shadow” or “cloud” of this golden shower cleared away — for the sake, he said, of his wife. I have never sought any sort of shower of gold, either fiscally (as a member of the FBI, I do not accept gifts, as that would create the appearance of impropriety), or in the unhygienic manner described. The only shower I want is the shower of blessings that comes when we are lifted up into judgment by our creator.

So this placed me in something of a pickle. (Dill, I believe, although I cannot vouch with absolute certainty.)

“Jiminy!” I said to my faithful cricket, who accompanies me everywhere, maintaining contemporaneous notes for me to compare later with my own. “What should I do?”

“What you have always done, Jim,” Jiminy said. “The right thing.”

I gazed into his compound eyes. This was an insect who understood the role of the FBI in American politics, and he was one bug I welcomed at FBI headquarters.

“You’re right,” I told him. “I have.”

I have been told that I am obnoxious. That my self-righteousness runneth, as the psalmist wrote, over.

My initials are J.C. I believe that’s no coincidence. Like another gentleman of the same acronym, I am known for behaving with an excruciating correctness that annoys everyone around me. You will have to choose whether you’d like to be saved by someone like me, and I would certainly forgive you if you chose not to be. Reinhold Niebuhr says that forgiveness is the greatest love of all.

I find that this nation has an unfortunate tendency to reward style over substance. People who do the right thing and maintain principles, but also possess personalities that the average American (Is there such a thing? No American is average!) finds to be grating or self-righteous, can fail to get the credit they so amply deserve. Simply because we are annoyed at how a man or woman presents himself, we will elect into office an orange, pouch-eyed gnome with less integrity than you could fit into the navel of a cricket. I know. I have measured my cricket’s navel, and I can vouch that he is a cricket of sterling integrity.

I hope that because my manner is grating and off-putting and my prose somewhat lush (although every person I have ever met who was not venal, vile or a member of the Mob has told me, in private, that I am exactly the man they would trust with their lives and the country’s honor) that nobody does anything rash. I do not like to toot my own horn (As a human being, I have no horn. I have only once seen a human being with horns, and I cannot comment further on the matter due to a pending investigation.), but I believe that I was the right man in the right place at the right time, and just because every account I have ever given of myself has grated in the ear does not mean that any of my conduct stinks in the nostrils. Lordy!

I don’t think that I am a pivotal figure in history. I’ve been called that many times, though, by people whose judgment I implicitly trust. And I have never done anything wrong, ever, in my life. And I will say so to anyone who will listen. And I would forgive you if you could not stand me after reading this book. After all, forgiveness is the greatest love of all. But I hope you won’t question my integrity or the impropriety of firing me just because you find my personality off-putting.

I, James Comey, would never do such a thing. I hope we can all hold ourselves to that standard.

Intriguing Comment of the Day

Twitter often provides more news than the networks, even Fox.

Here’s something offered by one post. It refers to the “qanon” poster who has gained a following. “Q” is supposedly someone who has deep connections in the deep state.

I don’t believe everything I read, but I found this intriguing.

“Another important point from that same #qanon tweet is that Justice Scalia was “187”…California penal code for murder. As discussed a while back, Hillary henchmen has Scalia murdered to open a seat on Supreme Court for Lynch…see Podesta Wikileaks emails re ‘wetworks’.”
Here’s the email they are referring to:

And here’s the definition of wetworks:

It all made sound a little too bizarre, but then people who get in the way of the Clintons are often found dead.

Strange, too, that Justice Scalia never had an autopsy, but was shoveled off and in the ground before that could happen.

Was this the quid pro quo for Loretta Lynch not prosecuting Hillary and the discussion between her and Bill on the tarmac?

Also, what was Comey referring to about damaging info on Lynch in his new book?

Unfortunately, our governing rulers have not shown themselves to be above criminality, have they?

‘Creepy’ Chick-fil-A Scares New Yorker

The old adage “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” may have a corollary. Could it be that the way to a liberal/Progressive city’s heart is through its stomach?

That’s what probably scares New Yorker writer Dan Piepenbring. He has an article out in the magazine titled “”Chick-fil-A’s Creepy Infiltration of New York City.”

Yes, one of the South’s most popular eateries has him running scared.

During a recent lunch hour, I was alone on the rooftop of the largest Chick-fil-A in the world. The restaurant, on Fulton Street, is the company’s fourth in Manhattan, and it opened last month to the kind of slick, corporate-friendly fanfare that can only greet a new chain. The first hundred customers had participated in a scavenger hunt around the financial district. At an awards ceremony, the management honored them with a year’s supply of free chicken sandwiches and waffle fries. There were no such prizes on offer when I visited, but from the fifth-floor terrace—on the top floor of the restaurant, which is twelve thousand square feet—I could see that the line to get inside stretched almost to the end of the block. An employee took orders on a touch screen and corralled people through the doors. The air smelled fried.

New York has taken to Chick-fil-A. One of the Manhattan locations estimates that it sells a sandwich every six seconds, and the company has announced plans to open as many as a dozen more storefronts in the city. And yet the brand’s arrival here feels like an infiltration, in no small part because of its pervasive Christian traditionalism. Its headquarters, in Atlanta, is adorned with Bible verses and a statue of Jesus washing a disciple’s feet. Its stores close on Sundays. Its C.E.O., Dan Cathy, has been accused of bigotry for using the company’s charitable wing to fund anti-gay causes, including groups that oppose same-sex marriage. “We’re inviting God’s judgment on our nation,” he once said, “when we shake our fist at him and say, ‘We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage.’” The company has since reaffirmed its intention to “treat every person with honor, dignity and respect,” but it has quietly continued to donate to anti-L.G.B.T. groups. When the first stand-alone New York location opened, in 2015, a throng of protesters appeared. When a location opened in a Queens mall, in 2016, Mayor Bill de Blasio proposed a boycott. No such controversy greeted the opening of this newest outpost. Chick-fil-A’s success here is a marketing coup. Its expansion raises questions about what we expect from our fast food, and to what extent a corporation can join a community.

I noticed that word — community — scattered everywhere in the Fulton Street restaurant. A shelf of children’s books bears a plaque testifying to “our love for this local community.” The tables are made of reclaimed wood, which creates, according to a Chick-fil-A press release, “an inviting space to build community.” A blackboard with the header “Our Community” displays a chalk drawing of the city skyline. Outside, you can glimpse an earlier iteration of that skyline on the building’s façade, which, with two tall, imperious rectangles jutting out, “gives a subtle impression of the Twin Towers.”

This emphasis on community, especially in the misguided nod to 9/11, suggests an ulterior motive. The restaurant’s corporate purpose still begins with the words “to glorify God,” and that proselytism thrums below the surface of the Fulton Street restaurant, which has the ersatz homespun ambiance of a megachurch. David Farmer, Chick-fil-A’s vice-president of restaurant experience, told BuzzFeed that he strives for a “pit crew efficiency, but where you feel like you just got hugged in the process.” That contradiction, industrial but claustral, is at the heart of the new restaurant—and of Chick-fil-A’s entire brand. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Cows.

It’s impossible to overstate the role of the Cows—in official communiqués, they always take a capital “C”—who are displayed in framed portraits throughout the Fulton Street location. If the restaurant is a megachurch, the Cows are its ultimate evangelists. Since their introduction in the mid-nineties—when they began advising Atlanta motorists to “EAT MOR CHIKIN”—they’ve remained one of the most popular, and most morbid, advertising campaigns in fast-food history, crucial to Chick-fil-A’s corporate culture. S. Truett Cathy, the chain’s founder and Dan Cathy’s late father, saw them as a tool to spread the gospel of chicken. In his Christian business book “Eat Mor Chikin: Inspire More People,” from 2002, he recalls crashing a child’s party at a Chick-fil-A in Hampton, Georgia. Brandishing a plush Cow toy before the birthday girl, he asked her, “What do the Cows say?”

She looked at me, puzzled. (Remember, she was barely three.)

“What do the Cows say?” I repeated.

“Moo,” she replied.

Everyone laughed at her pretty good answer, and I gave her a Cow and a hug and whispered the real answer to her. Then I turned to her mother and asked, “What do the Cows say?”

“Eat more chicken!” her mother cried . . . then, one by one, each person quoted the Cows and laughed.

Cathy died a billionaire, in 2014, but the “EAT MOR CHIKIN” mantra has survived. Though the Cows have never bothered to improve their spelling, franchises still hold an annual Cow Appreciation Day, offering free food to anyone dressed as a Cow. Employees dance around in Cow suits. The company’s advertising manager doubles as its “Cow czar.” The Cows have their own calendar. (This year’s theme is “Steers of Yesteryear.”) They’ve been inducted into the Madison Avenue Walk of Fame, and their Facebook following is approaching seven figures. Stan Richards, who heads the ad agency that created the Cows, the Richards Group, likened them to “a guerrilla insurgency” in his book, “The Peaceable Kingdom”: “One consumer wrote to tell us the campaign was so effective that every time he sees a field of cows he thinks of chicken. We co-opted an entire species.”

It’s worth asking why Americans fell in love with an ad in which one farm animal begs us to kill another in its place. Most restaurants take pains to distance themselves from the brutalities of the slaughterhouse; Chick-fil-A invites us to go along with the Cows’ Schadenfreude. In the portraits at the Fulton Street restaurant, the Cows visit various New York landmarks. They’re in Central Park, where “EAT MOR CHIKIN” has been mowed into the lawn. They’re glimpsing the Manhattan Bridge from Dumbo, where they’ve modified a stop sign: “stop eatin burgrz.” They’re on the subway, where the advertisements . . . you get the picture. The joke is that the Cows are out of place in New York—a winking acknowledgment that Chick-fil-A, too, does not quite belong here.

Its arrival in the city augurs worse than a load of manure on the F train. According to a report from the Center for an Urban Future, the number of chain restaurants in New York has doubled since 2008, crowding out diners and greasy spoons for whom the rent is too dear. Chick-fil-A, meanwhile, is set to become the third-largest fast-food chain in the nation, behind only McDonald’s and Starbucks. No matter how well such restaurants integrate into the “community,” they still venerate a deadening uniformity. Homogeneous food is comfort food, and chains know that their primary appeal is palliative. With ad after ad, and storefront after storefront, they have the resources to show that they’ve always been here for us, and recent trends indicate that we prefer them over anything new or untested.

Where to start on this nonsense?

Did you ever feel like you were in church when you went into the Union Ave. store? No. Maybe people who never enter one get that impression, but those of us who do can tell the difference. Easily.

Is Christianity catching? Is that what he’s afraid of? He objects to Jesus? No wonder New York is a failing, putrid, confused place.

Community is something Hillary Clinton insisted on. She told us it takes a village to raise a child. If that village is Christian, then it’s not acceptable?

Cows are its evangelists? Is he confused about Christianity and slurring Hinduism?
Could it be his elitism is showing? Nothing from the knuckle dragging/bible believing/gun toting Dixieland can ever be valid with this man.

Does he have no sense of humor? No. It’s not in the Leftist creed except when it’s used to make fun of others. That’s why we don’t have any good comedians anymore.

For God’s sake people are just going there to have a good chicken sandwich. Is that so wrong? My feelings about Starbucks are not positive, but I don’t think they should be run out of town.

Nor do they challenge my beliefs.

Maybe Mr. Piepenbring doesn’t really know what he believes. Maybe it’s creating doubt in his orthodoxy.

Maybe we win this culture war one sandwich at a time.

Harris Hits Out at Republicans

For some odd reason, I am on Lee Harris’ email list. So I get weekly emails from his campaign updating supporters on how they can give him money.

I suppose he believes in the “blue wave” that’s coming, hopes to catch it and ride to victory in the County mayor race. I don’t believe in it. We’re given the same propaganda we got in the 2016 election: Democrats were going to win, Hillary would be president and the rest of us might as well give up and go home.

We know how that turned out.

In his current email Harris rants against his Republican opponents, plus the NRA. But read it for yourself:

When it comes to gun violence and school safety, one of our major local papers, the Memphis Flyer, has already noted that the Republican candidates’ answers so far are lacking.

Here’s what appeared in that paper:
“[The three Republican candidates, Terry Roland, David Lenoir, and Joy Touliatos] on one subject — that of gun violence — … drew a blank. Lenoir’s solution to the specter of gun violence was to recap his major campaign themes — “good jobs, great schools, and safer neighborhoods” — along with an exhortation to “prosecute criminals to the full extent of the law.” Touliatos, who cited her penchant for taking crackers out to the hungry among her Juvenile Court charges, advocated showing children “that somebody cares for them.”
“Only Roland, emphasizing his membership on the board of a mental-health agency (who knew?) came within a country mile of any solution that is part of the current national dialogue, and he undermined his call for more attention to the mentally ill with the over-flip remark, “When you show me a gun that goes off and kills somebody by itself, then I’ll support gun laws.”
“All in all, that part of the Republicans’ mayoral debate was exactly the sort of thing that Emma Gonzáles meant when, in the aftermath of the gun-murder of 14 of her classmates and 3 faculty members, she made a speech dismissing any and all evasive pseudo-solutions to the tragedy with the words, ‘We call B.S.!’”

And, if that’s not bad enough, it gets even worse.

One of those Republican candidates, in another setting, suggested we should arm teachers, which is an idea out of the Trump administration.

I believe our next County Mayor should stand up for common sense gun reforms. Our next County Mayor shouldn’t bow to the NRA. And our next County Mayor has to be able to reject ideas from the White House that don’t promote safety and instead might put our schools at risk.

I have kids in the public schools right now. In fact, I’m the only candidate in the race for Shelby County Mayor with kids in the public schools. I’m personally invested in our County getting this right.

The Mayor has an important voice in the operation of the largest and most important school system in the state. School safety and common-sense gun reforms are two of my top priorities.

We can fight back against gun violence. We can promote school safety. We can stand up to the NRA.

I hope you’ll join me. I hope you’ll join us.

If you contribute $100, $50, or even $20.18, we can be competitive in 2018.

Snark? Oh filled with it. Hatred of the NRA, too. Suddenly they are the villain in school violence and crime in general. Guess he’s not down with the Second Amendment.

Notice how his solutions are vague. He doesn’t present anything specific. It’s just more Democrat rhetoric.

I notice how he hits at Trump. That hints at the whole Democrat strategy for elections. Run down Trump, call him names, accuse him of every conceivable crime, but don’t offer any ideas. And by the way, send them money.

That’s why I’m not pessimistic about the coming elections. They have nothing but sound and fury. It signifies nothing.

Why Did Trump Pardon Libby?

Today President Trump pardoned Vice President Cheney’s former aide, Scooter Libby.

If you remember anything at all about the case, which really tried to get Bush advisor Karl Rove “frogmarched” out of the White House, you know that Libby was the fall guy.

President George W. Bush commuted his sentence, but Libby still paid a $250,000 fine, performed 400 hours of community service, and served two years of probation.
In 2015, one of the witnesses against him said she believed the prosecutor withheld relevant information during her interviews that would have changed the outcome. Sound like today’s FBI thuggish tactics?

Anyhow, the DC court of appeals reinstated Libby to the bar and reauthorized him to practice law because they agreed that exculpatory evidence was withheld.

But why did Trump do it now?

A comment at Conservative Treehouse explains:

Incredible move, on multiple levels.

1. Libby was the victim of a rogue prosecutor, just as the left hopes Trump will be.
2. The person who assigned the prosecutor on the Libby case was James Comey
3. Message sent to Flynn and others that we’ll pardon victims of rogue prosecutors

Great job by the president, and doing it before the Comey book tour starts in earnest is brilliant timing.

Monumental Opinion

This from blogger Don Surber, who if you don’t read, you’re missing some of the best writing and insight on the internet.

Here’s the article:

Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert, saw Donald Trump’s win long before me. He sees Trump as a wizard and master persuader, but I see him as a Wizard of Oz. Really, you should pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. He’s wonderful because of the wonderful things he does.

Which brings us to Trump’s accomplishments.

Adams tweeted, “President Trump is on the verge of winning three simultaneous impossible-to-win wars: ISIS, North Korea, and trade with China. . . while the economy is booming. At this rate, he’ll be a top-five president by the midterm election, with six years to go.”

The delightful thing is experts have predicted doom all along. He wouldn’t win a primary, the nomination, the election, et cetera.

World War III has been predicted almost as often as a stock market crash has been predicted. (Note: everyone who predicted the 2008 crash also predicted one in 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007 — you get the picture.)

Trade War?

You’re soaking in it. We have had a trade war with China for decades — and we are losing it because our politicians sold us out.

Mind you, Trump has done this without a full staff as the Senate drags out confirmations.

Trump has done this under the microscope of a power-mad prosecutor who never should have been appointed.

Trump has done this while tweeting, golfing, and having the time of his life.

When the true story of President Donald John Trump is told, his critics will be viewed as ignorant, self-absorbed obstacles to a rebuilding of American greatness.

It’s good to remember in a time when Democrats and the enemedia are furiously working against him.

Bus Crash Collides Into Racism

Look where political correctness has taken us.

There was a tragic bus crash in Canada in which 15 people died. A Saskatchewan junior hockey team’s bus collided with a tractor trailer. Dozens of other young people are still in the hospital, four critical.

People set up a Go Fund Me page and that apparently outraged someone on twitter. Look at this:

What difference does it make who they were? This woman doesn’t see that she is prejudiced beyond belief. When did discrimination become one sided?

Chappaquiddick

If you haven’t seen this movie yet, hurry and do so before it is gone.

It was originally supposed to be released in November, around the anniversary of the JFK assassination, but it was postponed. It got pushed and pushed until the opening April 6. The movie makers have suggested that there were forces behind the scenes trying to squash it.

Powerline blog had reviewed it over the weekend. The blogger reported a full house, plus a sold out crowd for the next performance. I didn’t encounter that, but going on a Monday matinee is not likely to find a sellout.

If you thought the movie would hide or soften what happened that July night in 1969, you would be wrong. Powerline called it “brutal” and I would agree that the brutal truth was revealed.

Ted Kennedy, revered as the “lion of the Senate” is seen as the “lyin’ in the Senate” in this movie. He lies about his role in the drowning of Mary Joe Kopechne, trying to say that she was driving. He lied to the police chief. He lied to his friends. A week after it happened, he’d completely moved on to save his own skin. His remorse was remarkably short lived.

Bruce Dern as head of the family Joe Kennedy barely said a word – Joe was suffering from a stroke – but he really deserves an Oscar. He looked the part and his eyes conveyed his disgust for his son’s failures and his frustration with him. Rose Kennedy was not included in the cast, which I found puzzling as in an early scene Ted is told to call his mother. She certainly was alive at that time.

The filmmakers did a terrific job of setting up the suspense leading up to the drowning. Even though you knew it was going to happen, you were caught up in it. They laid out the story in all its gruesomeness from the Friday night it happened, to the funeral of Mary Joe to the contrived statement Kennedy went on TV to make.

The team of lawyers old Joe assembled for his son, included Bob Macnamara and historian Ted Sorensen among others. They played out the event against the backdrop of the landing on the moon and used it to help deflect the incident. The sleaze oozes from the screen.

This is a movie every American should see. How this man went on to be the fourth longest serving Senator and even made another attempt at a presidential run, shows how manipulated Americans have been by politicians and the media.

Ted Kennedy went on to continue his bad actions with women, ruining his marriage to Joan who ended up a homeless alcoholic. He used women as waitress sandwiches with Connecticut Senator Chris Dodd. He used his family’s tragedies to get a pass on all this.

When he died, Ted Kennedy was lauded as if he was something noble. This movie shows that image to be as phony as his pathetic excuses.

Go see it.

Kudlow Battles on Tariffs

The worry about tariffs on China is way overblown. We have to decide if we want to allow China to continue assaulting us or whether we stand up for our own nation’s workers and technology.

Newly appointed National Council Economic Advisor Larry Kudlow did a very good job explaining. The only problem is the ridiculous media. This ten minute segment is very enlightening. The Bloomberg anchor is completely obnoxious.