Remember when the worst we had to worry about was oral sex in the Oval Office?
Pity John McCain. Presidential hopes dashed through a combination of fate, tradition, hubris, and a bad VP pick. Party hijacked by a braggart with no military background who disses you out of the gate for getting captured and tortured. So you put out a few feelers—you're looking for something, anything, that will torpedo this asshole's election. And lo and behold, you are handed a dossier by a British agent filled with salacious details. Because you are a man of strong faith in your own morality, you hand it over to the FBI instead of broadcasting it all over the Sunday talk shows. (The FBI actually has the materials already but has declined to act on them.) But maybe once the guy actually wins the election, you have a staffer leak the info.
Here's the thing: It's all unverified, because what are you going to do? Track down the prostitutes? Hold a gun to the heads of the Russian mobsters? Putin's not going to talk. Trump can't.
I told you Russia was going to be the big story. Good lord—the Kremlin Trumpists took support for Ukraine out of the party platform! We have a Russian agent about to be sworn in as leader of the "free" world! And I'm starting to rethink my feelings about term limits, because if it weren't for the guys who remember the Cold War all too well, all of this would have been swept under the rug.
UPDATE 1/26: They actually DID reset the Doomsday Clock!
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