Alright folks, gather ‘round, because this is where it gets downright Hans Wilderesque in its absurdity. Let’s talk about the man who knows how to stir the pot like no other, the maestro of mayhem himself, Donald Trump. Now, Trump’s rant against renewing FISA isn’t just a tantrum on Truth Social; it’s a performance art in political disruption. The man points out that he, yes, HE was a victim of some sneaky maneuvers under the original FISA, smeared as a Kremlin cohort with about as much evidence as you’d find in a fortune cookie.
And here comes Section 702, sauntering in like it owns the place, allowing Uncle Sam to peek over the shoulders of foreigners, ostensibly to keep tabs on whatever diabolical plots are being cooked up against the good ol’ U.S. of A. Trump, he sees this as a no-brainer—why wouldn’t you want to spy on foreign spies? It’s like checking the scoreboard at a ballgame; you wanna know the score, right?
Now, for Trump, it’s not about whether FISA itself is the boogeyman, but rather the irony of an American citizen—himself—getting snagged in the web under dubious circumstances while genuine foreign threats roam unchecked. His outcry is a reminder, a shout into the void of Washington’s echo chamber, that if you’re going to empower the spies, at least do it without trampling on the very citizens you’re supposed to protect.
In his usual unvarnished gusto, Trump’s not just defending his own past grievances; he’s poking at the broader issue of how intelligence is wielded. It’s classic Trump: a bit of bombast, a pinch of paranoia, but a heaping helping of hard-hitting truths about the need for oversight in the shadowy corridors of power. And in the great tradition of political theater, who better to play the lead than a man who knows how to keep the audience hooked? Whether you love him or loathe him, he sure knows how to make a scene.
