Trump Sets Fiore Free, Federal Leviathan Sulks

By Yours Truly, a Humble Observer of the Human Comedy

The great gears of federal injustice ground on for months, gnashing and hissing like a brokedown steam engine hunting to crush Michele Fiore, a woman of brass spine and no shortage of colorful flair. But when the gavel got raised to flatten her completely, along comes President Donald Trump with a pardon in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other — and wouldn’t you know, he lit the fuse on the crooked business.

For those not keeping score, Fiore had the misfortune of entering public life with a sharp tongue, a set of cowgirl ethics, and a habit of saying precisely what she meant–qualities that do not endear one to the fork-tongued serpents of federal power. While serving on the Las Vegas City Council, she made some enemies–and not the polite kind you debate over tea.

In October of last year, a jury–handpicked under the watchful eye of the federal star chamber–found her guilty of wire fraud. Six counts, plus one of conspiracy, a word that always sounds suspiciously vague when wielded by bureaucrats with a thirst for scalps.

The case, in short, claimed she’d dipped into political pots and poured the contents into her garden. Never mind that the very foundation of modern campaigning is a web of winks, nods, and financial gymnastics; the difference is Fiore didn’t bow when Washington came knocking.

Despite her pleas of innocence, her call for a new trial was laughed out of court just last week–no surprise there. When you stand accused by the federal government, you might as well be arguing with a train–it won’t hear you, and it’s determined to run you down anyway.

Fiore’s downfall was less about dollars and cents and more about whom she backed and what she believed. She stood with Trump, stood with Bundy, and stood too tall for the folks who like their women quiet and their rebels dead.

The FBI–that proud institution that once surveilled Martin Luther King Jr. and now fritters away its credibility like a drunk gambler–decided Fiore needed humbling. So they stormed in with charges and press releases, leaking and spinning until they had enough smoke to suggest fire. But smoke ain’t fire, and today, the woman they tried to bury has been pulled from the dirt and dusted off by a presidential pardon.

She called it a vindication–and who’s to say it ain’t? She says her faith held firm, her truth was unshaken, and now her name’s been restored.

The Department of Justice should hang its head –but it won’t. The FBI will keep scribbling in its little notebooks, hoping the next target won’t bite back. And the press, who once fawned over Fiore when she made good headlines but turned on her like starved jackals when the script flipped, will now mumble about “accountability” while choking on the fact that the woman they called a crook walks free.

Mark this moment–it was not justice that saved Michele Fiore–it was prayer and the fact that the system’s broken, and Trump knows it all too well.