The Dust Bunnies of August

You remember those old-school math problems? You know — One train leaves Chicago at noon, another leaves D.C. at 11:45 traveling at 60 mph…? You were supposed to figure out where the crash would happen.

Well, today’s piece is a lot like that — only instead of trains, it’s governments and intelligence agencies speeding toward a collision, and the wreckage may not be metaphorical. It’s a preview of where the smoldering mess will end up, and how some very powerful people may be choosing global chaos over personal accountability.

Barbara Tuchman gave us The Guns of August — a master class in how clueless elites, tangled alliances, and bad timing conspired to ignite World War I.

Fast forward to 2025, and instead of massed artillery, we have classified email chains, Epstein flight logs, and a busload of cornered global elites clinging to their shredded narratives.

From one of those old-school inside sources — the kind who used to whisper truth across newsroom coffee stains — comes the whisper that the wheels may be coming off the Democrat Party bus. Not just a little wobble. We’re talking axles flying, smoke pouring, and Tulsi Gabbard walking toward the wreck with a gas can and a matchbook.

Because here’s the thing about the Intelligence Community: it never forgets. And when secrets are passed around on secure networks — especially the kind that involve coordination on cross-agency assessments — there are always footprints in the sand.

Even if Hillary’s bathroom server vanished into a PR black hole, the responses to that hack didn’t. Someone, somewhere, has the goods. And if they’re now surfacing — if they link the Steele Dossier not just to partisan politics but to MI6 and European co-conspirators — then you start to see the outlines of the real panic.

And from that angle, all this suicidal warmongering by Europe starts to look less like diplomacy… and more like a last-ditch cover story written in artillery fire.

Charge the Geiger and read the ChartPack.  Guns of August or the Shorts of September?  This is no field of dreams.  It’s a mine field and ready to rock..

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