The Interesting Thing About Jack Smith and the Hatch Act Is: Where the Fuck Is the Epstein Client List?
- john raymond
- Aug 2
- 3 min read
The headlines are dutifully reporting that Jack Smith—former Special Counsel, Trump’s legal antagonist—is now under investigation for possibly violating the Hatch Act. This is supposed to be big news. This is supposed to be the outrage of the week.
But the interesting thing about Jack Smith and the Hatch Act is: where the fuck is the Epstein client list?
Let’s be honest. No one outside the Beltway cocktail circuit actually cares whether Jack Smith ran afoul of some technical campaign regulation in the middle of holding Trump to account. If he violated a rule, fine—note it, deal with it. But the American public is not pounding the table demanding justice for a misdated memo or a politically inconvenient court filing.
We’re still waiting for the one thing we were actually promised. The thing Trump himself dangled for years. The thing his defenders claimed would shake the world: the Epstein client list.
Instead, what we got was a performance. Trump appointed Pam Bondi to oversee the “release” of the files—only to have the Justice Department quietly declare, in July 2025, that there is no client list. Just like that. Vanished. No follow-up. No real outrage from the right-wing personalities who swore the list was real and that “elites” would fall. No concern from Trumpworld about the missing data, the unreleased devices, the sealed court files, the manifest logs, or the conveniently memory-holed blackmail archive.
But Jack Smith? Let’s investigate him.
Let’s pretend that the man who actually stood up to Trump—who brought the kind of charges that historically mattered—is the threat to democracy, not the guy who hung out with Epstein, made the list disappear, and now wants you to forget the whole thing ever happened.
They Think We’re Stupid
This is classic deflection theater. Trump’s strategy isn’t legal; it’s narrative. Whenever the pressure builds, he starts pointing fingers. At Comey. At Biden. At Clinton. Now at Jack Smith. It’s not about guilt or innocence; it’s about noise. Distract just long enough to let the real crimes slip down the memory hole.
And the Hatch Act? Please. Trump himself violated it dozens of times while in office. His RNC convention was hosted at the White House. His cabinet members campaigned openly. His press secretary turned the briefing room into a campaign podium. If violating the Hatch Act were grounds for moral panic, we should’ve held the trial in 2020.
The difference? Jack Smith tried to prosecute Trump. That’s the real crime, as far as MAGA is concerned.
But again, that’s not what most of us are thinking about.
We’re thinking about the fucking list.
The Files Were Never Meant to Come Out
The “client list” was never a real deliverable. It was a narrative device—meant to give the appearance of justice while Trump and his cronies stalled, obfuscated, and sanitized the Epstein archive. They release just enough to bait the public, then bury the rest under redactions, non-disclosure agreements, sealed courts, and bureaucratic denial.
And now the press corps wants us to focus on Jack Smith’s timing?
No.
We want to know who raped children on Epstein’s island. We want to know who paid, who arranged, who facilitated. We want the flight logs, the photo archives, the recordings, the devices. We want to know why so many people promised transparency and delivered nothing. And we want to know what Donald J. Trump’s name is doing in so many depositions, party photos, and logs—and why it is he, of all people, is the one who now says there is no list.
The Real Offense
The real offense isn’t Jack Smith possibly mishandling a legal deadline.
The real offense is that the most explosive sex trafficking and blackmail case in American history has been conveniently erased. And the man who ran on exposing it—who pretended to be the savior of children, the slayer of the elite—is now the chief architect of its cover-up.
So yes, launch your Hatch Act probe if you must. Issue your findings. File your report. Just don’t expect anyone outside the D.C. echo chamber to give a damn.
Because the rest of us are still asking the only question that matters:
Where the fuck is the Epstein client list?
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