Bumbling incompetence is crumbling case against former FBI Director James B. Comey

The cancer at the heart of the American experiment has metastasized, and tonight, in a staid Virginia courtroom, a lone magistrate judge has taken up a scalpel and begun to cut.

The patient, of course, is Justice itself, and the tumor is a political vendetta so blatant, so clumsily executed, that it has finally provoked a response from the very system it sought to corrupt.

This is not just a legal ruling; it is a primal scream from the bowels of a system on the verge of collapse, a warning that the entire sordid case against former FBI Director James B. Comey is now rotting from the inside out.

In a 24-page document that reads less like a judicial order and more like a coroner’s report on the corpse of due process, U.S. Magistrate Judge William Fitzpatrick has done the unthinkable: he has ripped away the black curtain of secrecy from a grand jury proceeding and found a circus of grotesque incompetence and potential criminality staged by the government itself.

The ruling orders the Justice Department to surrender all its grand jury materials, a move so rare it signals a five-alarm fire in the halls of power. The reason? A “disturbing pattern of profound investigative missteps” and the very real, very terrifying specter of “government misconduct” so severe that it could force the dismissal of all charges against Comey.

Let us be clear about what we are witnessing. This is not a simple error.

This is a witch hunt led by a witch with no prior experience in lighting the pyre, a former personal attorney for Donald Trump named Lindsey Halligan, who was installed as interim U.S. Attorney after the previous prosecutor had the gall and the integrity to say there was no case to be made.

She was sent into the legal arena with a blank check of authority and a target on the back of a man the President has publicly loathed for years. And in her hands, the sacred tools of justice became blunt instruments.

According to Judge Fitzpatrick’s terrifyingly calm autopsy, Halligan stood before a panel of American citizens and misstated fundamental law, suggesting that Comey would have to prove his own innocence—a concept so alien to our Constitution it should have caused the courtroom floor to crack open.

She told the grand jurors to ignore the paucity of evidence before them, assuring them that better, juicier morsels would be served at trial—a prosecutorial felony in spirit if not yet in statute.

The transcripts are incomplete, the process is a shambles, and the very indictment may be a phantom, a document never actually seen or voted on by the grand jury. We are navigating uncharted legal territory, a swamp of incompetence drained into the reservoir of justice.

And at the center of this legal car crash are the seized communications of Daniel Richman, Comey’s friend and attorney.

The government, with a “cavalier attitude” that reeks of absolute power, apparently rummaged through this privileged material like junkies looking for a fix, using it as the “cornerstone” of their case without proper authority.

This is not law enforcement; this is the behavior of a banana republic death squad, kicking down the door of the law and scattering its contents to the wind.

So here we are, poised on the knife’s edge. The question is no longer whether James Comey lied to Congress.

The question, the only question that matters now, is whether the United States government can be trusted to prosecute anyone without poisoning the well from which we all must drink.

Judge Fitzpatrick has held up a mirror to the Department of Justice and shown them the face of a monster. The only remaining mystery is whether the system has the strength, or the will, to drive a stake through its heart.

The integrity of the Republic depends on the answer. Good luck with that.