“Always look on the bright side of life…”– Monty Python, The Life of Brian
And so it begins: the Trump cabinet doesn’t even have all of its shelves, doors, and hardware in place (much less has it been installed) and already the new national security advisor, Michael Flynn, has resigned. Seems our boy was in frequent telephone contact with the Russian ambassador before the great one was sworn in, and then gave “incomplete information” about those calls to the VP, who, ostensibly relying on information from Flynn, then stated (incorrectly, it turns out) that the subject of sanctions had not been discussed. This at a time when the Obama administration was sanctioning Russia for sticking its greasy tongs where they didn’t belong, into our electoral process. Flynn has since acknowledged that the discussions might have included the subject of sanctions. And the Eiffel Tower might be in Paris.
It happens that our intelligence people, much-maligned by the Sage of Trump Tower, were monitoring the calls of foreign officials, just doing their jobs. And lo and behold, what falls into their laps but a security lapse of fairly significant proportions. The fact that Trump had not yet taken the oath of office did not stop him and his little helpers from undermining Obama’s efforts to impose consequences for the Russian meddling. A rookie mistake, you may say. But Flynn is no babe in the woods when it comes to intelligence (of the spying sort, at least). During his military career, he chaired the Military Intelligence Board (MilIntelBo), served as Assistant Director of National Intelligence (AdNit), commanded the Joint Functional Component Command for Intelligence (JoFuncCoCoPuffs), and he was senior intelligence officer for the Joint Special Operations Command (JoSpecOpCo). And up until today, he was our national security advisor. But somehow it never it occurred to him that the FBI or CIA might be bugging the Russian ambassador’s phone. True, they missed the call on Saddam’s WMDs. But this was like fishing barrels out of a chute, or something…
There is a lesson here for all of us: never say anything on the phone you don’t want your government to hear. Even if you’re in the government. Yikes: the government isn’t even safe from itself. But I digress.
It was obvious on Monday that the ax was falling when Kellyanne Conway disclosed the kiss of death, the dreaded vote of confidence from DT (just another alternative fact). Of course, mealymouthed minions are now falling all over themselves insisting that neither the Prez nor the VPrez knew anything about anything. The Hog guesses it’s just coincidence that the mutual admiration society of Trumpy and Pooty was blossoming at the same time into a full-blown bromance. Yep, just a rogue general, acting on his own, without any orders from higher-ups. As lieutenant generals are prone to do. No scapegoat here. Mm-hmm.
The irony fairly drips from this situation. (The Hog told you we were just getting started, Age-of-Irony-wise). The Republicans built their entire campaign around allegations that Hillary’s carelessness with her emails might have compromised national security. But here are these yokels, not yet in office, chatting with the Russkis on an obviously unsecured phone about the weather in Minsk, the upcoming Olympics, a little of this and a little of that, and, oh, by the way, how ’bout dem sanctions? What were they were discussing? What the hell were they thinking? A cynic might think they were reassuring the president-elect’s boyfriend not to worry, the incoming administration will take care of those pesky sanctions. Perhaps a quid pro quo, a little payback for Putin’s electoral push? Heaven forfend! That would be so out of character for the Trumperino. It would be unethical, immoral, maybe illegal, possibly even treasonous. Never happen.
And that Flynn was done in on account of lying, in the administration of the Birther-in-Chief, is just too rich.
This is just the first domino to fall. Rumor is that Reince Priebus will be next (watch for that vote of confidence). A buddy of the Trumpster has stated that the new chief of staff is in over his head. Well, at least he’s in good company. Trump’s critics pointed out frequently during the election that he had no experience at governance, something one might need in dealing with the most powerful and complex bureaucracy in history. With historic hubris, he arrived in Washington proclaiming that he would drain the swamp, when in fact he has no clue where the alligators and quicksand are, much less how to tell the difference between them. One of the keys to survival in D.C. is skill in bureaucratic infighting, and the newbie administration is now surrounded by thousands who have mastered that art. They were there before this gang, and they’ll be there after it’s gone. It is likely they will eat Trump alive, swallowing the last bite before he even knows he’s on the menu. Few will mourn. Many, however, will suffer. An inevitable consequence of bad decision-making.
But maybe all this is just an aberration. What’s a national security advisor here, a chief of staff there? A mere bagatelle, the Hog fears, compared to what’s coming.
Are we great again yet?