This morning at 1000,
former FBI director James Comey is scheduled to testify before the Senate Select
Committee on Intelligence about matters related to possible collusion between
the Kleptocrat’s campaign (and now White House) staffers and various Russian
representatives.
Comey, you’ll recall,
was suddenly sacked by Donnie Two Scoops a few weeks ago because he refused to
stop investigating the connections, or he declined to lie about his
investigation, or he was a showboat. You pick.
Since then, the
Kleptocrat has toyed with the notion of invoking executive privilege to bar
Comey from testifying, but announced with great fanfare earlier this week that
he wouldn’t do that. (Probably after his advisers pounded him on the head
telling him that if he tried it, he’d look even guiltier than he does now.) He assuaged
his wounded vanity, though, by adding that he just might live-tweet a running
commentary on the hearing. Because he clearly doesn’t have anything else to do.
(Apparently those nearly 500 open high-ranking administration positions will,
in fact, nominate themselves in Kleptolandia.) He’s also flung around a variety
of tweets about his travel ban, London’s mayor, the Paris agreement, Qatar and
other attempts at distracting attention from today’s hearing, which have sent
his administration scurrying into frantic damage control, and caused a few
resignations.
The most recent example
of ham-handedness came on Tuesday, when he had Repugnant senators Marco Rubio (Florida)
and Tom Cotton (Arkansas) over for dinner. Both Replicants are on the Intelligence
Committee, and neither has anything resembling an actual spine, so it’s not
unreasonable to speculate that over chicken nuggets and single scoops of ice
cream on their pie they were getting a list of questions to ask today about why
leakers aren’t being investigated, and when can Sally Yates be expected to be
prosecuted.
Okay, but that’s not
what I’m writing about today. Because the nation has risen to the occasion in a
way that absolutely gives those of us with three synapses firing in sequence
heart: bars
are opening early to accommodate those wanting to watch the hearing straight
through—with appropriate liquids to wash it down. At least in D.C. they
are; probably across the country, too. Maybe even around the world.
There will be breakfast
sandwiches, specials on vodka-based cocktails and…drinking games. I’ve found at
least two versions online, and I stopped looking early yesterday. Viz.:
One that prefaces
the rules by urging players to imbibe responsibly and “refrain from
driving, tweeting, or managing a private email server after playing.”
Another that offers such
arcane rules that I’m not sure anyone can follow them sober, much less once
they’ve started slamming back the Moscow Mules or Stoli shots (c’mon, guys—gotta
be vodka for this one).
If neither of these
appeals to you, Reddit
has a few suggestions. Of course. In my opinion there needs to be special
consideration for every Repugnant question that’s an obvious attempt at
deflecting from the purpose of the hearing, particularly in light of the
completely unsubtle attempts by the White House to subvert the process, and
given recent hearings where the Reps went down that weasel hole with Yates and
others.
Sadly, I’ll be working,
in an environment that doesn’t even condone a little white wine spritzer at its
functions. But I’m hoping that this is one congressional action that confers
enough of a buzz that I won’t need any distilled substances to augment reality.
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