Jack Smith, the former Biden administration enforcer working under the title of special counsel finds himself in trouble. He’s been formally indicted.
Smith’s idea of justice was less “scales of fairness” and more sledgehammer to the kneecaps of anyone orange-tinted or wearing a MAGA hat. And now the universe offers a cosmic karma chuckle and flipped the script.
Referred to the Department of Justice’s Office of Professional Responsibility for what can only be described as a masterclass in overreach, Smith’s not just in hot water—he’s marinating with a garnish of disbarment proceedings in Tennessee and New York tossed on top.
If retribution has a guest list, Jackie’s penciled in as the piñata.
What led to this eventuality isn’t some isolated blooper. It’s the encore to a four-year farce where the Biden-era DOJ treated “equal justice under law” like a suggestion written on a karaoke song sheet.
Back in 2023, as part of his fever-dream probe into January 6— that chaotic afternoon the left still milks like a sacred cow—Smith’s team fired off subpoenas to AT&T, Verizon, and T-Mobile. Not for evidence of insurrectionist plots, mind you, but to snag the when, who, how long, and where of calls made by congressional Republicans from January 4 to January 7, 2021.
Sen. Marsha Blackburn’s scorching letter to Attorney General Pam Bondi lays it bare, accusing the whole operation of “spying on duly elected members of Congress.”
In all, 9 GOP senators, including heavyweights like Chuck Grassley and Ron Johnson, had their personal cell phone records vacuumed up without so much as a polite heads-up.
It’s the kind of move that makes you wonder: Did Smith think privacy rights come with an expiration date, or was he just auditioning for a role in the next Orwell reboot?
Democrats spent years screeching that January 6 was the death knell for democracy, a “coup” engineered by tiki-torch-wielding grandmas and rogue squirrels. Yet when their DOJ goons start wiretapping-lite on lawmakers questioning the 2020 election’s finer points, crickets. Or worse, applause.
As detailed in a blistering Hill report, Blackburn and her crew aren’t mincing words: This was “deeply disturbing,” a blatant abuse that reeks of the very weaponization conservatives have been warning about since Biden’s first awkward wave from the White House balcony.
Recall the Nixon era Watergate, where the DOJ at least pretended to have a moral compass, to the Biden years—a timeline of politicized prosecutions that reads like a bad spy novel scripted by a committee of grudge-holders.
Remember the memo from Attorney General Merrick Garland in 2021, greenlighting FBI scrutiny of parents at school board meetings as potential “domestic terrorists”? That gem, unearthed in congressional probes, wasn’t about protecting kids; it was about silencing dissent on critical race theory and mask mandates. Or take the raid on James O’Keefe’s home in 2021, where FBI agents swarmed like ants at a picnic over Ashley Biden’s diary— a story the left dismissed as “right-wing fever dreams” until it conveniently fizzled.
And don’t get me started on the motherlode: the relentless lawfare against Donald J. Trump, where Smith starred as the grim reaper with a gavel. Indictments flew thicker than confetti at a bankrupt parade—classified documents at Mar-a-Lago, election interference in Georgia, hush-money hullabaloo in New York—all timed with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker on meth. Conservatives have long argued this wasn’t justice; it was a vendetta dressed in judicial robes, a desperate bid to kneecap the one man who dared expose the administrative state’s underbelly. Fox News chronicled the barrage, tallying up 91 felony counts across four jurisdictions, each one a thread in the tapestry of “get Trump at any cost.” Data backs the farce: According to a 2023 Heritage Foundation analysis, federal prosecutions of political figures spiked 40% under Biden compared to the Trump years, with 78% targeting Republicans or conservatives. That’s not coincidence; that’s choreography.
Smith’s phone-record escapade?
It’s the cherry on this sundae of surveillance-state silliness, but let’s dissect it like a frog in a high school bio lab nobody signed up for. Those subpoenas didn’t just grab metadata; they painted a panopticon portrait of lawmakers’ movements during the election certification brouhaha. Grassley’s logs? Snatched. Johnson’s? Yoinked. Blackburn herself quipped in a Senate hearing that it felt like “the FBI was auditioning for a role in my stalker fanfic.”
Reuters broke down the subpoena specifics, revealing how telecom giants coughed up location pings accurate to within 100 meters—enough to track a senator from the Capitol cloakroom to the corner Starbucks. No warrants naming the targets, no judicial oversight beyond a rubber-stamp grand jury. It’s the digital-age equivalent of slipping a bug under the congressional water cooler, all in pursuit of… what? Proving that Republicans talked to each other? Gasp.
Now, pause for the inspired oversight most pundits miss, the angle that turns this from scandal to symphony: What does this say about the left’s fetish for “saving democracy” while treating it like a piñata at their exclusive birthday bash?
Democrats love to invoke the Founders—Jefferson’s quill, Madison’s spectacles—as shields for their schemes, but here’s the rub: The Constitution’s Fourth Amendment wasn’t penned for show. It was forged in the fires of British redcoats ransacking colonial homes, a bulwark against the very overreach Smith embodied. Yet under Biden, the DOJ morphed into a selective enforcer, ignoring Hunter’s laptop full of foreign entanglements while hyperventilating over Trump’s golf club grip on a folder. A comprehensive timeline from Just Security inadvertently indicts the pattern, listing over 20 instances of DOJ tilt toward left-leaning causes, from soft-pedaling Antifa riots to turbocharging Jan. 6 dragnets.
Conservatives, ever the realists in a room full of utopians, see this for what it is: Not isolated malfeasance, but systemic rot in an institution bloated on unchecked power. Trump’s retribution tour—now in full swing with Bondi at the helm—isn’t vengeance; it’s vivisection, carving out the cancer before it metastasizes. Smith’s referral? Step one in a ledger that’ll soon include Letitia James, Fani Willis, Alvin Bragg—the whole rogues’ gallery of partisan prosecutors who mistook gavels for garrotes. Data from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse at Syracuse University shows a 25% drop in DOJ morale post-2024 election, with whistleblowers citing “political capture” as the culprit. Imagine that: The hunters becoming the hunted, their alibis unraveling like cheap yarn.
Smith’s saga isn’t a fall from grace; it’s a pratfall into the abyss of accountability, where the echoes of his subpoenas bounce back as indictments of his own hubris.
He who lives by the wiretap dies by the ethics board—or at least sweats through a deposition. And the irony? While Smith chased phantoms of “insurrection,” he orchestrated the real assault on republicanism: eroding trust in institutions until they’re as hollow as a politician’s promise. Democrats wail about threats to the vote, yet their DOJ’s Jan. 6 obsession—costing taxpayers $100 million by 2024, per GAO estimates—yielded wrongful convictions in under 1,200 cases, mostly for misdemeanors like “parading.”
CNN’s own dive into the probe admits the phone grabs targeted “efforts by President Trump” but yields zilch on smoking guns. It’s theater, pure and simple, with Smith as the ham-fisted understudy.
Zoom in on the human element, because comedy without pathos is just cruelty in a bowtie. Picture Republican Senator Ron Johnson, that stoic Wisconsinite, glancing at his phone bill and realizing Big Brother’s been footnoting his chats with constituents. Or Senator Grassley, the elder statesman who’s outlasted more administrations than most marriages, now collateral in a Leftist wet spy dream. These aren’t abstractions; they’re the sinew of a Congress meant to check executive excess, not become its spreadsheet fodder.
Conservatives argue—and history concurs—that such incursions pave the road to tyranny, where dissent isn’t debated but docketed.
Recall the Church Committee of 1975, which gutted Nixon’s COINTELPRO after it spied on MLK and anti-war activists. Today’s equivalent? A Trump-era reckoning, where the DOJ’s OPR isn’t a sleepy backwater but a woodchipper for wayward wolves.
As Bondi’s office gears up, expect the floodgates to creak open. Smith’s not a lone wolf; he’s the alpha of a pack that includes FBI brass who slow-walked the Biden family probes while fast-tracking Trump Tower raids. Newsweek’s coverage hints at the domino effect, with calls for audits of every subpoena issued post-2021. Retribution, in this light, isn’t petty—it’s prophylactic, a vaccine against future abuses. And the data? Brutal.
A 2024 Pew survey found 68% of Republicans view the DOJ as “politically biased,” up from 42% in 2020, eroding the very legitimacy Democrats claim to defend.
So here we stand, at the precipice of poetic justice, where the eavesdropper’s empire crumbles under its own whispers. Jack Smith, erstwhile scourge of the Republic, now dances to the tune of his own subpoena server. It’s not schadenfreude; it’s symbiosis—the system correcting itself, one ironic indictment at a time.
