⁣Because the FBI doesn’t have the Russian aircraft under surveillance, and the Secret Service doesn’t maintain a security presence around a former President’s aircraft.

You’re not very good at this conspiracy thing, are you?

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⁣You claim to be a “human rights lawyer” in the same bio you proudly proclaim your status as a Zionist.

Those two concepts are inherently self cancelling.

Max Blumenthal and Roger Waters are two of the finest humans alive.

I’m proud to call them both friend.

You’re a Zionist.

It doesn’t get any lower than that.

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⁣The difference is Roger Waters is a legend who will go down in history for his music and for being on the right side of history.

As for you…who the heck are you, anyways?

I’ve already forgotten…

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⁣Bandy,

We live in a country where most citizens can viably be charged with committing two-three felonies a day.

The Democrats politicized the courts to go after Trump.

If you were in his shoes, being charged for political purposes, you’d want immunity as well.

We all would.

This never would have happened if the Democrats thought they could beat Trump in a free and fair election.

Why not let the people decide?

Well… because the Democrats fear the people.

We, the People.

I’m not pro-Trump.

I am pro-Democracy.

And when the Democrats pervert democracy for their political benefit, I’m anti-Democratic Party.

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I’ve celebrated a number of Fourth of July celebrations over the years.

Two stand out.

July 4, 1976. The American Bicentennial.

I was in Ankara Turkey. The American community had gathered at Balgat Air Base, the heart of the American community.

In 1974 the Turkish military invaded Cyprus. The U.S. government imposed an arms embargo as punishment for. The Turks retaliated by banning the flying of the U.S. flag over Balgat.

On July 4, the Turks allowed U.S. to raise the flag in recognition of the Bicentennial.

When old glory went up the flagpole, with the national anthem playing in the background, there wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd.

The second Independence Day celebration that remains cemented in my mind occurred on July 4, 1992.

I was in Baghdad, Iraq, as part of a UN inspection team that was in hot pursuit of documents relating to Iraq’s prohibited weapons programs, documents the Iraqis were hell bent on keeping us away from.

The tension was very high, as both inspectors and inspected understood we were heading towards a major confrontation. The Americans on the team, headed by Lt. Col. Karen Jansen, gathered on the banks of the Tigris River. In our ranks were a mix of intelligence and special operations personnel who had all participated in Operation Desert Storm, which had ended a little more than a year prior. The victory we thought we had won was being tested by Iraq, and we once again found ourselves on the frontline of a new kind of conflict, more political than military, but frought with risk and danger. July 5 was the day we were scheduled to raid the suspected document hide site. We had Delta Force operators attached to the team in case the inspection turned into a hostage rescue mission.

Karen pulled a small American flag from underneath her jacket. We all said the pledge of allegiance, and then sang America the Beautiful. We shook each other’s hands, and congratulated ourselves on the birth of the country we loved.

The country we were willing to die for.
It was a beautiful thing.

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