I’d been expecting indictments of Assange and Don Jr., at least, and maybe Kushner. Rather, I’d been yearning for those indictments. “Expecting” suggests some rationality; yearning suggests emotion.
But I’ve got this inside me, a little sun, which is my inherent optimism. While I was feeling sort of let down last night, I wondered when and if my little internal sun would rise. And it did; this morning; along with the external one.
It’s a bland cover letter. There’s no mention of the number of possible charges Mueller has passed on to other jurisdictions, and no mention of sealed indictments. Not surprising since that’s the “sealed” thing. What would a sealed indictment be if everyone knew it existed and against whom?
I’m not sure whether a sealed indictment can be passed on to another jurisdiction.
I’m not sure whether, to preserve the statute of limitations on certain crimes, the other jurisdictions are already sitting on sealed indictments. For instance, the Michael Cohen affair named Trump as an unindicted co-conspirator in the election financing crimes. I’d think the Southern District would have a sealed indictment against Trump. If so, as the SD continues its investigations, it could use that indictment as a base for superseding indictments containing other charges as the other charges become viable. (Maybe the eventual Trump indictment would have, oh, say, 49 supersedings. Wouldn’t that be fun to read!)
The NYT comment community — a/k/a letters to the editor — are all stirred up. No authoritative word about how sealed indictments work, but virtually everyone wants to read the Mueller report in full. A couple of weird people have declared Trump to be exonerated in toto and want to know if the Mueller report covers Hillary’s emails (yes, sorry, yes) and uranium and stuff and such. Some of those comments are I suspect trolls from one country or another; most are listening full time to Fox News. The irrationality numbs the brain.
I had a dream, of course. The dream was that Mueller would defy the DOJ and have Trump yanked out of Mar-a-Lago in handcuffs. That was a fever dream. (Somewhat less fevered: Assange yanked out of his Ecuadoran den in handcuffs.)
I still think some versions of the above will happen. And have to confess that my desire to have them happen yesterday or today was so that I’d never have to see Trump’s face, read his tweets or hear his voice ever again. Never mind punishing the whole crime family; stop the crime family from punishing me by their very existence.
As soon as the 2018 election results were in, Trump became, for me, a non-entity. There is no governance now, except for the perversions eroding our crucial agencies, and the frantic efforts to appease the major rotters of this earth.