You gotta love a good paper trail. And you can forget all that “conquer the Minotaur crap” you learned in high school, using the ball o’ twine to mark the way out of the maze. Today’s smart shoppers use an email trail to navigate the treacherous waters of an exposé. And this particular email trail is a humdinger.
Let’s take a little trip down memory lane, and take a look at this little love note, sent from the Phoenix office of the ATF. You know. The one that just saw it’s personel laterally-arabesqued, as they gamely try to rearrange the deck chairs on the Titanic. Yeah. THAT one. In the same city as the DoJ office that just got their cases reassigned to another division, so all that hard work won’t go up in smoke, after the DoJ’s Phoenix boys proved to be part of the problem, instead of part of the solution. Oh, and if you can’t read it, be sure and click on it to zoom it up nice and large.
For those of you whose computers are graphically-impaired, here are the juicy bits (emphasis mine):
We are charging Avila with a standalone June 2010 firearms purchase where he used a bad (old) address on the 4473. (924(a)(1)(A) – False records required to kept by dealer.) This way we do not divulge our current case (Fast & Furious) or the Border Patrol shooting case.
My, what big lies you tell, Grandmother! All the better to deceive you with, my dear.
So let’s see. The DoJ knew nothing of the operations of the ATF on Fast n’ Furious, and the ATF had no idea that the guns they let out of the country for a bit of a walkabout ended up with the thugs that gunned down Brian Terry. Yet here’s proof positive they knew, right up front and early. And shared that data with everybody else on the team.
That’s the loverly thing about paper trails. (Even ePaper trails.) It’s so easy to trip up somebody with a proclivity for mendacity. So, another day, another chink in the armor, fly in the ointment, piss in the vinegar. Yep. It’s getting so thick over there ’round Phoenix way, they’re gonna have to start some initiative to feed the area homeless, with all those geese that are gettin’ cooked. What do you think…tastes like chicken?