Keep Throwing Spaghetti at That Wall
Clusterfuck Nation
For your reading pleasure Mondays and Fridays
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We’re reminded this morning by The New York Times, America’s official psychotic fantasy generator, that the Russians are coming (again!) as an ad hoc arm of the committee to re-elect Mr. Trump. You have to ask yourself: Does Mr. Trump actually need their help? His opponents have been self-meddling so diligently that their party now looks like a Frankenstein creature assembled from the spare parts of Herbert Marcuse, Tupac Shakur, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, and Jame Gumb. Imagine that monster running a government.
If Vlad Putin happened to express an aversion to the idea at an international cocktail party, can you really blame him? Plenty of Americans surely feel the same way. Anyway, the Times’ story never gets around to saying much about the alleged new Russian campaign besides this:
They have made more creative use of Facebook and other social media. Rather than impersonating Americans as they did in 2016, Russian operatives are working to get Americans to repeat disinformation, the officials said. That strategy gets around social media companies’ rules that prohibit ‘inauthentic speech.’”
Wow, that’s pretty scary! Except when you consider that Americans have done a crackerjack job of mind-fucking themselves with disinformation the past several years, coincidentally via this very The New York Times, a figment machine so demented that it has come to resemble the proverbial crazy aunt locked in the attic. The true wonder is the Times’ poverty of imagination, reviving a tattered cockamamie story that bombed abjectly the first time around. I suppose, in a culture addicted to stupid sequels, they expect Robert Mueller will be called back on-duty to sort this one out like he did so nicely before.
Actually, you could make a credible argument that the vaunted US “Intel Community” is a bigger threat to American life than anything the Russians might do on Facebook. Hence, the good news that Mr. Trump has just appointed Ambassador to Germany, Richard Grenell, to the pivotal job as Director of National Intelligence, a position created in 2004 to supposedly coordinate the farflung activities of seventeen armies of spooks and snoops, lately notorious for feeding disinformation to The New York Times and its “Resistance” media allies. Note: right off the bat, The Washington Post characterized Mr. Grenell as a “partisan propagandist,” seeking to disable him from the get-go. One could reasonably assume that the officers of the seventeen intel agencies will do everything possible to work around Mr. Grenell, but he does have the power to ask questions, and to ask additionally the reason why he isn’t getting straight answers, and then to do something about it. Of course, that’s exactly what the Resistance is afraid of.
It was Mr. Grenell’s predecessor, Joseph Maguire, who fecklessly allowed the “whistleblower,” and that phantom’s enabler, ICIG Michael Atkinson, to play the nation on UkraineGate, a hideously embarrassing episode of engineered political subterfuge that instigated the grave process of impeachment, so that the whole world could see exactly how dishonest we are amongst ourselves — more proof that we don’t need Russia’s help sowing disorder and ignominy in our own country. Mr. Grenell might commence by asking some questions about that caper. There’s so much to dig into at the CIA, FBI, and the NSC after three years of deceitful shenanigans that he’ll need a Bucyrus RH400 hydraulic excavator to get the job done.
The Attorney General sure can use some help. No doubt you saw the circus around the Roger Stone case develop into another Lawfare operation to oust Mr. Barr when a thousand-odd former federal attorneys — including some who signed off falsely on FISA warrants — mobbed up a petition for his resignation. I suspect it only pissed him off and made him more determined to bring cases against some of them. Stone, of course, is a political clown with a weak sense of boundaries who made some legally foolish moves, considering the parlous times. But you can still argue he was treated rather unfairly, since his jury forewoman outed herself as a Resistance activist as soon as the trial concluded and no one, including Judge Amy Berman Jackson, has addressed how that happened.
The General Flynn matter is something else, and goes far deeper into the seditious misuse of US intelligence. Flynn has become the American Dreyfus, an honorable army officer dragged through the muck unjustly by the Intel Community working “six ways from Sunday,” in the immortal words of Senator Chuck Schumer, to prevent its dirty laundry from being aired. His ordeal has gone on for three years and is coming close to climax. The legal devices used to screw General Flynn are known to the public now, including the initial deceitful interrogation by FBI agents Strzok and Pientka, the withholding of exculpatory evidence by his prosecutors (and plenty of other misconduct), and the unethical behavior of his former lawyers from the Swamp firm of Covington and Burling. He’s going to eventually get off this ignoble rap sooner or later, one way or another. Silencing him was probably the key objective in the long train of seditions that I sum up as CoupGate.
It would be best if the federal court itself could clean up the Flynn mess by Judge Emmet Sullivan declaring it a malicious prosecution and throwing out the case, because that would begin to repair the institutional damage. But Mr. Trump might have to pardon him in the end. If he does, I hope he goes on national television and provides a detailed explanation of the aforesaid DOJ misconduct for the public, and I hope he does it from the teleprompter so it will come off clearly and coherently.
Coming in March 2020
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Attention Movie Producers!
JHK’s screenplay in hard-copy edition
A Too-Big-To-Fail Bankster
Three Teenagers who bring him down
Gothic doings on a Connecticut Estate.
High velocity drama!
Great Winter Reading!
At Ponsonby Hall, a new Hampshire prep school for screw-ups, things are far from all right.
“Audaciously hilarious”
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A child is born… but not exactly the way he thought it happened. And now he must leave home at Christmas time. $7.50 — Cheap! Buy!
Something Strange is going on at Camp Timahoe in Lost Indian, Vermont, summer of 1962.
“Rollicking fun”
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New Paintings by JHK 2016 — 2017
Other Books by JHK
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