A liar. Collusion to commit a crime. A report that won't be made public.
The Jussie Smollett case? No. Donald Trump.
So Mueller's dropped off his report to the DOJ. William Barr -- a Trump accessory who claims a president is above the law -- has summarized the report (below left): Nyet collusion. No release of the report. Talk about transparency.
Trump was at the Capitol today crowing like an "exonerated" jail bird (below right).
This is America? A president can't be indicted? The criminals are now handed the evidence -- and they determine what we will and will not see? Comrade McConnell won't allow a Senate vote?
This -- sadly -- is America.
The criminals are in charge, and they have been handed the evidence. We may NEVER know the truth.
The whole sordid affair calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem, "Because they could not tell the Truth" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Because I could not stop for Death" (below on the right).
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Because they could not tell the Truth –
The truth was never told –
The Cover Up by just Themselves –
Was Fake News they controlled.
He ranted on – He knew just hate,
He should be put away
His labor is his ballyhoo,
His Incivility –
He passed it Off, as Orphan care
It had – a rosy ring –
He promised Health Care from Day One –
He promised Everything –
Or rather – He conned Us –
The News brought shivering and chill –
For Angrier, we’ve Grown –
Our Patience – has grown Thin –
We voted in a House that seemed
A Swelling from the Ground –
The Senate scarcely visible –
Complicit – with this Clown –
For now – feels centuries – and yet
’Tis shorter till the Day
We all surmise the Final Count
That is Twenty-Twenty –
By Emily Dickinson:
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
We slowly drove – He knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At recess – in the ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – 'tis centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –