Posted on 05/19/2021 8:04:50 AM PDT by ChicagoConservative27
Hey, don’t even get me started on civil asset forfeiturer. ;)
The beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord. Step two is to realize the US has more in common with the USSR than a norman rockwell painting.
No consequences for dem’s bs. They will do what they please until we stop them.
Dems we’re fine with his business practices when he was donating to them…
“What makes you think they don’t believe they have a reasonable belief a crime was committed?”
Applying the “reasonable man” standard, it is not reasonable to believe that President Trump committed a crime. They may have some desperate hope that a crime was committed, but I don’t think that satisfies the requirements of probable cause.
“Nothing requires that they release details before filing charges.”
I’ll take your word for it, but if they thought they had discovered a crime, they’d be braying from the rooftops.
Hillary's thugs were working with Russians operatives to create lies about Trump... and Trump was tried in the press every day for his whole administration OVER NOTHING... IT WAS ALL LIES.
Creepy axe to grind 'intelligence' traitors lying to democrat fools in the corrupt 'press'...
I don't care what they think they can "get" him on - I know that what was done to Trump and TO his family and to the American people - was worse. History will not be kind to the thugs in the democrat party OR their butt boys in the 'press'... This time in our history will NOT age well.
I sure hope you’re right.
I figure they’ll at least indict and have the trial scheduled during the campaign.
We'll find out sooner or later, won't we?
The real key is that they didn’t say that there was an investigation into criminal activity on the part of Donald Trump, the individual. Just the “Trump Organization”. So is it possible that someone within one of his companies committed some criminal act? Of course. But that is a very far cry from Donald Trump himself committing a crime.
Exactly, the Trump organization has accountants and also outside tax advisors that work with state and federal tax agencies to review and approve large business transactions....
There is nothing here but prosecutorial misconduct!!!
Trump wasn’t doing the books himself professional tax people were.
Ny AG can go pound sand!
The goal here is to try and get Trump deposition, so they can trick him into lying or saying something a teeny tiny bit incorrect, so they can charge him with purjury or something similar.
It is unethical for James to “poison the well” like that!
Yes, I agree. They will smear him up and down. They will allege, accuse, indict, etc.. They will try to silence him.
I wouldn’t rule out some sort of assassination attempt - there is nothing they won’t stoop to - they are evil.
But I doubt they will stage any kind of morning raid - or drag him off in handcuffs. That would be doing him a favor - it would make him an instant martyr - a hero to the Right. He would be Batman.
This is exactly why I always said Trump would never seriously consider locking up any Clintons or any of Obama’s cabinet chiefs: He would have been doing them a yuge favor - making them into folk heroes and martyrs.
As opposed to fishing this is warfare by Law-fare.
“We’ll find out sooner or later, won’t we?”
Not unless we’re willing to fight for it.
I’ll bet the leftards already have “articles” written announcing the “discovery” of whatever transgression they plan to invent.
Paul Revere’s Ride
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light, –
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.”
Then he said “Good-night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade, –
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, “All is well!”
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay, –
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.
A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer’s dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.
It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled, –
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm, –
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
Chokes me up every time.
Remember, always: Leftards are *not* Americans. They are barely even human.
She wants Cuomo’s job. This is what all the harassment allegations and book-profit nonsense are coming from.
Republicans joining in. Don’t realize they are falling into a trap.
If you weren’t already sure that all the me too nonsense is politics, doesn’t this one prove it?
You don't know what to fight. Wait until they show their hand then go to war.
“You don’t know what to fight. Wait until they show their hand then go to war.”
As a Catholic, I am only permitted to participate in just wars.
Politically motivated !
The Dims will do anything legal, or even illegal, in their pursute of injustice,
to keep Trump from running again.
It's just a continuation of the " Russia, Russia, Russia" collusion.
Trump owns most of Nazzi's brain; this is a mere example
and the Dims are lockstep with Nazzi since Trump is the only one willing to fight the against the B.S.
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