Hi, I’m Smoking Gun. You may know me from any number of murder mysteries and old films.
In fact I, Smoking Gun, have played a central role many times including as a Maltese falcon, a library-based candlestick and even an actual smoking pistol.
I was honored and thrilled to expand my theatrical repertoire from the studios of Hollywood to the halls of Washington, D. C. In fact, you’re probably familiar with my two larger-than-life roles in the political dramas surrounding the Watergate break-in and the Bill Clinton affair.
With no false modesty, I played an important role in Watergate. As you’ll recall, I was the Oval Office tapes including a famous 18½-minute gap that brought down the Nixon White House. People had to do a lot of investigating to find me.
I also figured prominently in Bill Clinton’s subsequent scandal. What initially threatened to remain a he-said, she-said standoff blew wide open when I was eventually located in Monica Lewinsky’s closet in the form of a DNA-stained blue dress.
Recently I assumed that I would be taking on perhaps the biggest role of my career in the current Trump-Ukraine scandal. When an unnamed whistleblower fingered Donald Trump as an impeachable felon, I was sure that I, Smoking Gun, would once again be called on to provide the final inculpatory evidence.
Well, that’s not the way it turned out. Rather than wait for me to make my dramatic entrance, the President pretty much publicly admitted his latest crime right from the outset. He said his incriminating telephone discussion with the Ukrainian president was “perfect” and his sidekicks Rudy and Mick even admitted to the existence of a quid pro quo.
This Trump fellow has broken the mold on everything including me. How the hell can you have an effective impeachment process without the possible discovery of a smoking gun? Trump doesn’t seem to care a whit about drama and the elements of the narrative arc.
I’m flattered that everyone still pretends to look for me even when it’s pointless. There is no John Dean to admit to a cover-up and there’s no Monica Lewinsky to expose the President’s lie. All you’ve got is a parade of witnesses confirming everything Trump has already said and admitted to.
I hadn’t planned on bowing out and taking early retirement but what choice do I really have? I was hoping, of course, for the big reveal when I, Smoking Gun, was discovered and changed everything. Well, as they say in Hollywood, that ain’t gonna happen.
Some have suggested that I stay on and maybe change my name to Corroborating Evidence or maybe Quid Pro Quo. But it’s too late for that; there’s already a quid pro quo and you’ve got all the corroborating evidence you could possibly need.
As for me, it’s time to resign. I can see the handwriting on the wall, the line in the sand and even the open-and-shut case. My federal career is done, kaput, finished. The only thing left is to head back to Hollywood and hope for a small role in some film noir revival.
Latest posts by David Martin (see all)
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