I write this the week that James Comey began peddling his vainglorious book. It reads like a Harlequin romance, except that the protagonist is in love with himself.Comey sermonizes about lies and lying people. This is perversely ironic coming from a man who, more than anyone else, is responsible for the most notorious hoax in modern American history.As director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Comey launched a dilating investigation into Donald J. Trump in the summer of 2016. There was not a whiff of credible evidence to legally justify the probe. So, in a deception worthy of a solid street hustle, Comey labeled it a 'counterintelligence matter.

' The clever feint allowed for a covert criminal investigation in search of a crime, reversing and bastardizing the legal process.This is what abuse of power looks like.For the better part of two years, the FBI, U.S. intelligence apparatus, mainstream media, Democrats, and, eventually, Special Counsel Robert Mueller, and his team of partisans peered furiously into every obscure corner and crevice for some proof that Trump 'colluded' with Russia to steal the 2016 presidential election. They seemed to believe that Trump could not possibly have won absent some treasonous conspiracy hatched by him in the bowels of the Kremlin. They were convinced he was an illegitimate president. Besides, Comey and his minions didn't like Trump the man or his politics.

They loathed him. The vaunted director, who surely knew better than naïve and gullible voters, would be the savior of the nation.