Trump’s Prison, Fauci’s Freedom

Number one question I get these days is, do I think Donald Trump will actually do time?

Honestly don’t know—the only constant in the NY case is chaos theory.

“How will people react?” and “what will happen after that?”—same thing, I don’t know.

This morning I saw some of the performative outrage from Congress over the testimony of Dr. Anthony Fauci. In normal times, we would be asking each other when Fauci will go behind bars?

Fauci has gone from “I am science” to “I never touched her, your honor!” faster than I’ve ever seen.

Now, his draconian edicts about six feet of separation “just sort of appeared”, and his command urgency has morphed into I don’t know/I don’t remember. Like he was just a befuddled bystander.

And these Congress critters aren’t a lot better. How many of the D’s and R’s rubber-stamped NIAID and NIH funding over the years without reading or asking anything? How many of them failed in their basic oversight responsibility? When people marvel at a guy like Rand Paul, I always point out that it’s not that Senator Paul is so great, but what he’s doing is THE JOB and we so rarely see it.

I think it’s pretty clear to most of us now that our pols helped pay for the GOF-work on COVID, covered up its origins, and stood by while the American people were herded into the pens of emergency rule.

The doc derived his insane powers the same way J. Edgar Hoover once did, serving up cocktails of flattery, obfuscation and pressure. They almost all drank, and now they’re competing to see who can complain the loudest about the hangover.

We are the ones who got hurt, whose kids were stunted, whose lives were wrecked, whose businesses were devastated—it doesn’t help to watch Congress perform our outrage.

Just the fact that Trump might go to prison in a case the state of NY has never seen the likes of, while Fauci walks free and waxes nostalgic about the good ol’ days of ’20, is enough to make people do, well, anything.

Or nothing.


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