Way more barking than biting. Miki and her pals are on all kinds of watchlists now, and security has been massively bolstered. Maybe looking back, we'll see 1/6 was the famous Obama-put "fever breaking". Twitter is not America, the idiots on my "clowns" Twitter list post hundreds of thousands of tweets (like Kurt Schlicter who writes at Town Hall, he's close to 250,000 tweets now) but the rank and file Republicans are barely posting. Go back and look at January vs. now, so many have been banned or gone silent. (Planning to do a bit of research on it because it's so dramatic, or recommend a reporter look into it; those very well might have been bots or paid trolls because the accounts just... stop. And there's still 1,305 days. Think we'll also look back and see all these audit and reinstatment fantasies are just prolonging their base being able to grieve and move forward; after HRC lost it was like 4-5 months before we watched the news. When it finally hits Miki and her pals it's over, will be fascinating to see what (or even if) she posts.
Countdown to Jan 20, 2025 9:00 am in Sunnyvale: Inauguration 2025: 1302 days
Sidney Powell has been banned for 178 days, Ali Akbar 173, Taitz hasn't tweeted for 20 days, Miki 16 days... it'll sink in that 12 of the last 18 years have been with a Democratic president. And demographics are on the Democrat's side.
Meanwhile, on Miki's proud 1/6 performance:
OF COURSE HE DID
Trump Cheered on MAGA Rioters — Then Called Them ‘Idiots’ After They Made Him Look Bad: Michael Wolff
Published on June 28, 2021 at 08:27 AM ETBy Brad Reed – Raw Story
A new book from journalist Michael Wolff claims that former President Donald Trump was initially enthusiastic about his supporters storming the Capitol on January 6th — only to turn on them after he realized how terrible they were making him look. New York Magazine has published an excerpt from Wolff’s latest book — titled Landslide: The Final Days of the Trump Presidency — in which Wolff explains Trump’s belated realization that the people rioting on his behalf at the Capitol were going to permanently and negatively define his legacy.
Trump initially thought the mob of supporters attacking the Capitol were “his people” and thus worth backing in their quest to overturn the results of the 2020 election. “It wasn’t until later in the three o’clock hour that Trump seemed to begin the transition from seeing the mob as people protesting the election — defending him so he would defend them — to seeing them as ‘not our people,'” Wolff writes.
However, Trump was still reluctant to put out a public statement condemning the rioters because he didn’t think he bore any responsibility for their actions. Trump loyalist Jason Miller, however, finally convinced Trump that he had to distance himself from the riots and commit to leaving the White House after President Joe Biden’s inauguration.
At the same time, Trump wasn’t convinced that the rioters were really his supporters and said they must have been Democratic infiltrators. “This looks terrible,” Trump said. “This is really bad. Who are these people? These aren’t our people, these idiots with these outfits. They look like Democrats.”
https://www.thenewcivilrightsmovement.c ... ael-wolff/
Usual disclaimer: It's Michael Wolff. Excerpt in NY Mag is here:
https://nymag.com/intelligencer/article ... cerpt.html
Here's the end of it:
► Show Spoiler
As he went upstairs to the residence, he seemed, said some of the people talking to him there by phone, at a terrible loss. The monologue slowed and even paused, with a few people not even sure that this otherwise-unstoppable monologuist was still on the line.
At about this time, Scavino informed Trump that he had been booted off Twitter — still a temporary suspension. For more than four years, he’d been told that this was always a possibility, and every time, he’d responded that Twitter needed him more than he needed it.
The doubtless president was, at least for a moment, someone else. “I don’t know what to do here,” he said to one caller not long after 7 p.m. — as stark a sense of uncertainty and even crisis as the caller had ever heard the president express.
The notable thing is that he seemed to have finally recognized that the main event, the certification of the electoral votes, was now far from the main event. He may even have realized that after 64 days of struggle, it was over.
Jason Miller, at home in Arlington, was lying stupefied in bed with his wife, watching the video loops of the day over and over again and hoping there was a plan. But no one called. At 9 p.m., he got out of bed, opened his laptop, and started to write a statement. A statement — the considered language of politics, the true mandarin’s language — was an indication of ongoing business. This meant doing what Trump had refused for the past 64 days to do: acknowledge that Joe Biden would inevitably be the next president.
But there was not going to be an abject or contrite Trump or even a formally defeated one. It was necessary to skip over the fairness of the election and to skip over the Trump-told narrative — the election in his mind would remain stolen, forever stolen. This statement could certainly not be the official, belated concession — at least not to Trump — but it had to establish acceptance, a fait accompli, and put Trump’s stamp on the new, if disagreeable, reality.
Miller was trying to get the headline, the chyron roll: the message from Trump that something had changed.
Orderly transition.
Not exactly the torch passing, and hardly a round of applause for democracy in action.
That was as far as the president could be moved. He called Kushner and read him the draft.
“Will you call the president?” Kushner smoothly pushed Miller into the fray.
Miller called Meadows, still in the West Wing, and then the president. The president seemed eager to hear from Miller, eager to be on the phone. Most often for Trump, the phone was a one-way instrument: Callers listened.
“How bad is this?” Trump asked, a stark difference from his usual opener, “How are we doing?” — which was not, ordinarily, a question at all but a preface to Trump’s saying how well everything was going.
“Mr. President, today is literally going to change everything.”
“This looks terrible. This is really bad. Who are these people? These aren’t our people, these idiots with these outfits. They look like Democrats. Hold on, our great First Lady is here,” said Trump, switching to speakerphone.
“Jason,” said the great First Lady with a sharp note. “The media is trying to go and say this is who we are. We don’t support this.”
“That’s what we have to make clear,” said Miller, relieved that the president and First Lady were seeing the protesters as bad guys rather than good guys (and not a mix of the two). Pushing through, Miller told the president and First Lady that he had just gotten off the phone with Kushner and Meadows and that they had a proposal for later that evening if Biden reached an electoral majority. He went into reading the statement draft.
The president suggested “peaceful” transition instead of “orderly.” Miller said that that called attention to the fact that it wasn’t peaceful now and might not be peaceful. “Orderly,” Miller did not say, suggested not just an absence of disruption but that all the aspects of government would pass, as they should, to a new administration. “Peaceful” put it in someone else’s hand; “orderly” meant cooperation, too — the Trump White House would cooperate with the incoming Biden White House. It wasn’t just the protesters who needed to stop; Trump needed to extend himself, too. After all, it wasn’t just the recount effort and the election challenge behind the protests but Trump’s personal intransigence.
Trump seemed to appreciate this now, to walk back, even. “The media thinks I’m not going to leave,” said the president. “Do they really think that? That’s crazy.”
“We’ve never laid that out,” said Miller, with some deadpan. “I really can’t stress enough how much we have to make it clear that we’re fully onboard with an orderly transition.”
“We didn’t tell people to do something like this. We told people to be peaceful. I even said ‘peaceful’ and ‘patriotic’ in my speech!”
“I’ll work with Dan on getting this out,” Miller told the president. Saying this, Miller suddenly wondered if they would even have the tools and channels to get it out. Every call — to the wires, networks, and major dailies — yielded variations on the same question: When are we going to hear directly from the president? When is he going to come and talk about it? When is he going to stand in front of us and in front of the American people?
This is over, Miller thought. This is the end of the road. Of all the news outlets, only Fox had never gotten back to him. Even Fox, Miller accepted, was truly over Trump.
Scavino could use only his personal Twitter account to finally, at 3:49 a.m., get out the president’s statement.
If this was an attempted putsch, it had not only failed but shown its leader to be almost a random participant in it, without method or strategy. Disorder had always been his element, and it was now his followers’, too. But he was not so much with them as alone in his own rebellion and desires, a bubble of grievance that somehow floated apart from actual events, even events that were meant to make real the president’s own delusions.