Blackmail fodder

Dear President Trump,

This morning I read the excerpts of the Senate Russia investigation about the Tower meeting and it dawned on me that Vladimir P entrapped you. I was trying to figure out why there was the promise of dirt on Clinton and why, by all accounts, it wasn’t delivered, and the proverbial light bulb finally came on for me. Maybe it’s been on for millions of other Americans for months, but I’ve not seen it articulated like this anywhere. Instead, the focus has been whether there can be collusion charges if no dirt was delivered, what you knew when, and what you approved or encouraged. I think all this is missing the Russian submarine gliding along right under the surface. Why else would they get your son, campaign manager, and son-in-law to come to a meeting to hear dirt about Clinton and then not deliver – it had to be to blackmail you.

If I were him, I’d be pretty pleased with myself because there were so many different ways this pretend dirt meeting would benefit me and really no ways it could harm me. If no one found out about it, I could hold it over you in exchange for whatever I might want. If someone did leak it, you all look like morally depraved idiots and chumps. I may not get quite as many goodies right away with this second scenario, but I will gain tremendously from the chaos and division that ensues from the revelation that the family and campaign staff of the sitting POTUS sought damaging information on his main opponent from a hostile foreign power. Nice payoff for a little bit of arranging.

Have you read those transcripts? Your “Witch Hunt” lament sure sounds lame now and good luck with the “Obama had an FBI spy or two infiltrate my campaign” B.S. Far, far more likely is that someone who started out working for you realized part of the way into the campaign that you all were up to no good and needed to be stopped; basically a whistle blower situation. Whoever it is and why they did it, thank goodness they stepped up and told someone. I shudder to think what you would have signed over to Vladimir by now if no one were watching you like a hawk.

May we be safe from morally bankrupt politicians.
May we be happy to patiently build airtight cases against them.
May we be healthy enough to learn from this ordeal.
May we figure out how to get through the rest of this without the country being torn apart.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson

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