Roger Kimball

Well, well, well. That is to say, I told you so. Finally, at last, it was about time, scary-looking special counsel John Durham has delivered his report on the stinking, corrupt, lying, no-good partisan machine that is the FBI and the Department of Justice. Just as I and the rest of the non-Hillary commentariat told you, what he showed was that the Deep State’s investigation into possible collusion (remember that once-ubiquitous word?) between Donald Trump and the Russkies was a partisan witch hunt fabricated by Team Hillary.  The report is full of the antiseptic bureaucratese that specialists recommend to their insomniac patients. The FBI “failed to uphold their mission of strict fidelity to the law,” yada, yada, yada.

What’s that flapping sound? Could it be the sound of chickens coming home to roost? Or maybe it’s just the grating noise of secretary of state Antony Blinken rolling himself into a ball and, pressing his eyes shut and cupping hands over his ears, repeating, mantra-like, “please make it stop”? I don’t know exactly what the noise is or whence it comes. But Thursday’s revelations from the House Judiciary and Intelligence Committees about Blinken and Obama’s acting CIA director and all-round Democratic Mr. Fixit Michael Morell are certainly brewing up a storm.

Regular readers may recall how fond I am of a mot from the British diplomat, author and art collector Edgar Vincent, the first (and, as it happened, the last) Viscount d’Abernon: “An Englishman’s mind works best when it is almost too late.” When I first encountered Lord D’Abernon’s saying, I was impressed by its slightly disabused cheerfulness. “Whew,” I thought. “As usual, some impending disaster was neatly avoided at the last moment by the wit and pluck of the doughty Brits.” The drama of the near-escape added to the sweetness of relief. Surely we Yankees — most of whom, until recently, were basically displaced Brits — could also be counted on to display the requisite derring-do at the critical moment. Could we though? “Almost too late.

So, everyone was even more right than they thought: Alvin Bragg’s breathlessly awaited arraignment of former president Donald Trump really was the Oakland of all arraignments. It was just as Gertrude Stein said of that California city: there is no there there. The indictment had thirty-four counts — thirty-four! Everyone expected them to be more or less the same count, just repeated with some sort of elegant variation to hold the attention of his audience. But, minimalist that he is, the George-Soros-funded district attorney exceeded expectation. Bragg came up with one charge. The statute of limitations had passed on it, but that didn’t matter. He liked the charge, misdemeanor though it was.

The first thing to understand about the indictment of Donald Trump by the Manhattan Grand Jury convened by the George Soros-funded District Attorney Alvin Bragg is that it is only incidentally a legal proceeding. Don’t be distracted by the avalanche of analyses that are poised to descend on the public. All the legal mumbo-jumbo is beside the point. At its core, the indictment of Donald Trump is a political exercise, not a legal proceeding. That is to say, it involves the deployment of state power against an individual, not the impartial application of the law.  Indeed, what is happening to Donald Trump is about the deliberate abrogation of the law in the service of power.

As the song in “Li’l Abner” said, “The Country’s in the Very Best of Hands.”   I wonder if Joe Biden knows the tune?   The treasury says the national debtIs climbing to the skyAnd government expendituresHave never been so highIt makes a fellow get aGleam of pride within his eye,To see how our economy expandsThe country’s in the very best of hands Please note that Joe’s got plenty of help. There are lots of hands building up that debt, opening up our southern border, proselytizing for the girls who think they are boys and vice versa.

Well, no indictment, but there were developments! Vocabulary word of the week: “exculpatory.” “Something that shows that someone is not guilty of wrongdoing.” Now, use it in a sentence: “Soros-funded Manhattan DA Alvin Bragg neglected to reveal hundreds of pages of exculpatory evidence to the Grand Jury pondering whether to indict Donald Trump.” What does it mean? It means that the orange suit that Bragg was hoping to order up for Trump may have to be retailored in a larger size, one big enough to fit him. Some context: when a prosecutor conceals exculpatory evidence from a Grand Jury or defense attorneys he is guilty of prosecutorial abuse.

Is this news? Mike Pence “seized the spotlight” in DC this weekend when he “slammed former president Donald Trump in what amounts to his strongest criticism to date of his former running mate.”  Of course Pence did. He is, for the time being, running for president. Naturally he is going to set his sights on the the biggest beast in the room. And that beast, in case you haven’t noticed, is Donald Trump. (And, really, can’t Politico do better than “former running mate”?) Pence, having himself been subpoenaed by the January 6 Entertainment Committee (he doesn’t plan to testify) is nervous about his role in that jamboree.

“A hurt dog barks.” That’s what Tucker Carlson said as he aired various bits of the 41,000 hours of surveillance video captured at the Capitol on January 6, 2021. If you want to know what the hurt dog sounds like, just listen to Senator Chuck Schumer on March 7: “Rupert Murdoch has a special obligation to stop Tucker Carlson from going on tonight [and] from letting him go on again and again and again [because] our democracy depends on it.” Really, Chuck? Does “our democracy” depend on preventing the American people from seeing what really happened at the Capitol on January 6, 2021?

Remember when Donald Trump crowded illegal immigrants into cages? What a brute! But what could you expect from a man who was, when you came down to it, indistinguishable from that diminutive Austrian house painter with the funny mustache and a fondness for leather? The problem was, it was the anointed one, Barack Obama Himself, who built the cages and crammed them full of illegal immigrants. (Really they were large areas secured with chain-link fences, but “cages” sounds scarier.) And those dismal photographs depicting the huddled masses? The media splashed them everywhere as yet more evidence of Trump’s perfidy. But, wouldn’t you know it, the photographs too were from the Obama era. Even the Snopes Fact Manipulator, no friend to Trump, had to acknowledge that.

Looking back on the classified docudrama that brought down the Biden administration, it is still not easy to identify the exact moment when the official narrative began to unravel and the political establishment understood that Biden had to go. With the wisdom of hindsight, we can see that the New York Post breaking the story about Hunter Biden’s laptop was an important alarm bell. That happened only weeks before the 2020 election, so it was a serious breach. At first, it seemed as if the threat had been contained. Elite squadrons of the regime’s damage-control department swung into action. They instantly de-platformed the Post, the nation’s oldest newspaper, shutting down its social media accounts for weeks.

Psychologists and self-help gurus agree: it’s the little things that bring a smile to one’s lips and impart savor to life. A case in point was just vouchsafed this weary world by Paul Ryan, former important person. An interviewer for ABC recently sat down with Mr. Clean and asked him whether he would be going to the 2024 Republican National Convention, which is to be held in Milwaukee in Ryan’s home state of Wisconsin. “Where will you be?” the host asked. “It depends on who the nominee is,” Ryan replied. “I’ll be here if it’s not named somebody Trump.” Ooo, that stung, Paul! “It’s,” “somebody Trump.” Slash and burn, what? I have some bad news. That “somebody” might very well be Donald Trump.