In the wake of Mr. Comey’s testimony on Thursday, my political-awareness-barometer hit an all time spike. The night before, I read and reread his prepared remarks in their original PDF format, crafting various haikus to highlight the more absurdist moments. It’s nice to envision Comey sitting with his laptop open on his lap, facing a Word document with the potential to topple a precarious, quite clearly vicarious administration. Maybe he fixed himself a nice, stiff drink or a hot pot of coffee.
When he first sat down before the committee, I thought maybe he would cry. Certainly not out of fear, but something immense percolated underneath his sternness. His eyes darted rapidly in a barely perceivable way.
“They will be back,” he told us. He was sure of it.
Of all the bombshells, one stood out like a dead bird of paradise in a reopened coal mine. In all their discussions, Trump didn’t bother to ask Comey about the Russian cyber attack against the country he is currently leading. He was far too concerned with the hooker-laced dossier to notice. This omission goes beyond neglect. The only viable conclusions remain that the President did not care that the U.S. had been attacked because (1) such things generally fail to concern him, or (2) he was an active participant in said attack, thus needed no breakdown of events from intelligence officials. Either of these options is dismal at best.
Whatever the outcome, at least we can derive a little peace from the persistent nature of truth, and the good will of some, resisting burial. I do still firmly believe in an impending uncovering of a grand truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but enough truth. Nixon later expressed regret that he didn’t destroy the tapes. Perhaps Trump has already taken the initiative that Nixon did not.
The scope of this upheaval, however, stands alone in the annals of American political tradition. There should certainly be sufficient evidence soon to move beyond political theater into the realm of prosecution and impeachment. I’m almost sure of it.