Boca
Governor
Things are always worse than they seem. That seems to be a good rule of thumb these days.
Take the FBI.
Every sentient person knows that the Bureau has had a rough couple of years.
The Russia Collusion hoax revealed an agency shot through with corruption and partisan bias. But the rot goes far beyond the large handful of top Bureau bad hats: the James Comeys, the Andrew McCabes, the Peter Strzoks, and Kevin Clinesmiths.
But perhaps the most shocking litany of rot at the FBI has been compiled by Darren Beattie at Revolver News.
Beattie’s latest story revolves around Ray Epps, a Phoenix-based professional provocateur and, apparently. Epps was originally near the top of the FBIs list of “most wanted” figures from the Jan. 6 protest-cum-riot at the Capitol.
Then a funny thing happened. Epps’s name was purged from the FBI files.
Some 700 people have been arrested for their part in the Jan. 6 demonstration. But Epps and a handful of other major players in that drama remain unindicted.
Beattie shows that what the media label an “insurrection” is almost certainly better described as a “Fedsurrection.”
We do not know with 100 percent certainty who orchestrated the breach of the Capitol did so at the instigation of federal authorities. But it sure looks that way.
Beattie takes us step by step from the moment on Jan. 5 when Epps whipped up a crowd and told them, over vocal objections from various demonstrators, that they were going to the Capitol the next day.
Beattie shows how other actors calmly removed fences and signage on Jan. 6, clearing a path for the protestors, who were carefully funneled through that one walkway up to the Capitol.
“Okay we’re in!” shouted the man known as “Scaffold Commander,” so called because he was perched, megaphone in hand, atop a tall tower overlooking the Capitol complex. “We’re in!” he shouted. “Come on! We gotta fill up the Capitol! Come on! Come now! We need help. We gotta fill up the Capitol! They got in.”
Will coincidences never end? The blue and white megaphone he was using was identical to blue and white megaphones used by other people directing the crowd.
Beattie is not the only person to notice the oddity of it all. A Twitter thread, published the day after the event. “What happened yesterday was not as it seemed.”
Indeed. “What makes the ScaffoldCommander-Ray Epps affair complete,” Beattie noted, “is that they appeared to work in tandem from start to finish the entire day on 1/6.”
“Both set up positions at the initial 12:50 p.m. ‘Big Bang’ breach site, and they did so before the Proud Boys arrived.” The official story, you will recall, says that the Proud Boys group caused the riot. But they didn’t.
A review of the video footage shows a handful of main players that day. None have been indicted.
Why?
Take the FBI.
Every sentient person knows that the Bureau has had a rough couple of years.
The Russia Collusion hoax revealed an agency shot through with corruption and partisan bias. But the rot goes far beyond the large handful of top Bureau bad hats: the James Comeys, the Andrew McCabes, the Peter Strzoks, and Kevin Clinesmiths.
But perhaps the most shocking litany of rot at the FBI has been compiled by Darren Beattie at Revolver News.
Beattie’s latest story revolves around Ray Epps, a Phoenix-based professional provocateur and, apparently. Epps was originally near the top of the FBIs list of “most wanted” figures from the Jan. 6 protest-cum-riot at the Capitol.
Then a funny thing happened. Epps’s name was purged from the FBI files.
Some 700 people have been arrested for their part in the Jan. 6 demonstration. But Epps and a handful of other major players in that drama remain unindicted.
Beattie shows that what the media label an “insurrection” is almost certainly better described as a “Fedsurrection.”
We do not know with 100 percent certainty who orchestrated the breach of the Capitol did so at the instigation of federal authorities. But it sure looks that way.
Beattie takes us step by step from the moment on Jan. 5 when Epps whipped up a crowd and told them, over vocal objections from various demonstrators, that they were going to the Capitol the next day.
Beattie shows how other actors calmly removed fences and signage on Jan. 6, clearing a path for the protestors, who were carefully funneled through that one walkway up to the Capitol.
“Okay we’re in!” shouted the man known as “Scaffold Commander,” so called because he was perched, megaphone in hand, atop a tall tower overlooking the Capitol complex. “We’re in!” he shouted. “Come on! We gotta fill up the Capitol! Come on! Come now! We need help. We gotta fill up the Capitol! They got in.”
Will coincidences never end? The blue and white megaphone he was using was identical to blue and white megaphones used by other people directing the crowd.
Beattie is not the only person to notice the oddity of it all. A Twitter thread, published the day after the event. “What happened yesterday was not as it seemed.”
Indeed. “What makes the ScaffoldCommander-Ray Epps affair complete,” Beattie noted, “is that they appeared to work in tandem from start to finish the entire day on 1/6.”
“Both set up positions at the initial 12:50 p.m. ‘Big Bang’ breach site, and they did so before the Proud Boys arrived.” The official story, you will recall, says that the Proud Boys group caused the riot. But they didn’t.
A review of the video footage shows a handful of main players that day. None have been indicted.
Why?
