Save America

Have you ever felt that elections change far less than the headlines promise—that something behind the scenes keeps steering the ship? In Killing the Deep State, Jerome R. Corsi argues that Donald Trump’s 2016 win threatened an entrenched, bipartisan power structure he calls the “Deep State,” triggering an extraordinary counterattack to delegitimize his presidency and remove him from office. Corsi contends this effort fused intelligence insiders, law-enforcement brass, establishment politicians, globalist financiers, and mainstream media into a coordinated campaign amplified by street-level activism.

At the book’s core is the claim that a small cadre in the FBI, DOJ, CIA, and allied institutions used surveillance, leaks, and a carefully constructed “Russian collusion” narrative to trap Trump in investigations and potential impeachment. Along the way, Corsi revisits decades of controversies—from 1970s Church Committee findings on surveillance to 2000s banking scandals—to argue these aren’t isolated events but symptoms of a power ecosystem with its own survival instincts. He threads specific names (James Comey, John Brennan, Andrew McCabe, Peter Strzok, Lisa Page, Bruce and Nellie Ohr, Andrew Weissmann) and mechanisms (FISA warrants, unmasking, selective leaks, opposition research pipelines) into a story that feels at once forensic and conspiratorial.

What Corsi Means by “Deep State”

The book leans on writers like Mike Lofgren and Peter Dale Scott to define the Deep State as a “shadow government” comprising intelligence services, defense contractors, Wall Street–central bank alliances, global institutions, and a bureaucratic fourth branch that persists regardless of who wins elections. If you’ve sensed that major policy directions—foreign interventions, mass surveillance, global trade architecture—continue on autopilot, you’ll recognize the picture. Corsi argues Trump broke the rhythm by promising “America First” trade, borders, and an end to unending wars—red lines for a globalist consensus that had reigned through Bush 41, Clinton, Bush 43, and Obama.

How the Counteroffensive Allegedly Worked

The story begins before Inauguration Day. Corsi chronicles the Strzok–Page texts (mocking Trump, invoking an “insurance policy” discussed in “Andy’s office,” a reference to FBI deputy director Andrew McCabe), the Ohr backchannels to Fusion GPS (with spouse Nellie Ohr contracting on the Trump dossier while working Russia research), and the predawn raid on Paul Manafort’s home. He describes the firing of FBI director James Comey as the inflection point that allowed Deputy AG Rod Rosenstein to appoint former FBI director Robert Mueller as special counsel with an expansive brief. For Corsi, this locked in a legal siege—what he and Julian Assange both call lawfare—where criminal process substitutes for politics.

From Dossier to Daily Drumbeat

The Russian-collusion storyline, in his view, originated as paid opposition research (the Steele dossier) commissioned by the Clinton campaign and DNC through law firm Perkins Coie and research firm Fusion GPS, then laundered into law-enforcement and media ecosystems. Corsi details how the dossier traveled—from Steele to FBI, to members of Congress like Sen. John McCain, to BuzzFeed’s public posting—while major outlets amplified anonymous-source stories based on surveillance, unmasking, and classified leaks. If you’ve ever watched a cable news “breaking” story evaporate weeks later, you’ll recognize the meta-critique: narratives get set before evidence catches up.

Street Pressure Meets Media Pressure

Corsi argues media and institutional pressure received muscle from the streets. He traces funding networks (George Soros’s Open Society, Color of Change, Media Matters, Indivisible) and mobilizations (Women’s March, Antifa disruptions) as the cultural arm of the same project—normalizing the idea that Trump was illegitimate and must be contained. Whether you agree or disagree, the book helps you see how outside-the-capitol activism can synchronize with inside-the-Beltway maneuvers to create 24/7 pressure.

Why This Matters to You

If you care about civil liberties, separation of powers, and the line between law enforcement and politics, Corsi’s account forces a simple question: do processes exist that can remove or restrain an elected president without the electorate’s consent? The book suggests those processes matured over decades of wartime surveillance, financial impunity (e.g., HSBC’s 2012 settlement over cartel and sanctions laundering), and bipartisan habits of secrecy. It’s not just about Trump; it’s about any future leader who collides with the system’s defaults.

In the pages that follow, you’ll see how Corsi builds his case: (1) alleged bias and entrapment in federal agencies; (2) architecture of the collusion narrative (dossier, CrowdStrike, VIPS counter-analyses on DNC leaks); (3) unmasking and surveillance practices; (4) the leftward turn of Democratic activism and its media strategies; (5) claimed Democratic “Russia ties” via Uranium One and Skolkovo; (6) Mueller’s probe as lawfare; and (7) the author’s playbook for how a president wins a propaganda war. Whether you accept all, part, or none of the thesis, you’ll come away with a sharper eye for how narratives are built—and how much power lies in who gets to tell the story first.

Have you ever felt that elections change far less than the headlines promise—that something behind the scenes keeps steering the ship? In Killing the Deep State, Jerome R. Corsi argues that Donald Trump’s 2016 win threatened an entrenched, bipartisan power structure he calls the “Deep State,” triggering an extraordinary counterattack to delegitimize his presidency and remove him from office. Corsi contends this effort fused intelligence insiders, law-enforcement brass, establishment politicians, globalist financiers, and mainstream media into a coordinated campaign amplified by street-level activism.

At the book’s core is the claim that a small cadre in the FBI, DOJ, CIA, and allied institutions used surveillance, leaks, and a carefully constructed “Russian collusion” narrative to trap Trump in investigations and potential impeachment. Along the way, Corsi revisits decades of controversies—from 1970s Church Committee findings on surveillance to 2000s banking scandals—to argue these aren’t isolated events but symptoms of a power ecosystem with its own survival instincts. He threads specific names (James Comey, John Brennan, Andrew McCabe, Peter Strzok, Lisa Page, Bruce and Nellie Ohr, Andrew Weissmann) and mechanisms (FISA warrants, unmasking, selective leaks, opposition research pipelines) into a story that feels at once forensic and conspiratorial.

What Corsi Means by “Deep State”

The book leans on writers like Mike Lofgren and Peter Dale Scott to define the Deep State as a “shadow government” comprising intelligence services, defense contractors, Wall Street–central bank alliances, global institutions, and a bureaucratic fourth branch that persists regardless of who wins elections. If you’ve sensed that major policy directions—foreign interventions, mass surveillance, global trade architecture—continue on autopilot, you’ll recognize the picture. Corsi argues Trump broke the rhythm by promising “America First” trade, borders, and an end to unending wars—red lines for a globalist consensus that had reigned through Bush 41, Clinton, Bush 43, and Obama.

How the Counteroffensive Allegedly Worked

The story begins before Inauguration Day. Corsi chronicles the Strzok–Page texts (mocking Trump, invoking an “insurance policy” discussed in “Andy’s office,” a reference to FBI deputy director Andrew McCabe), the Ohr backchannels to Fusion GPS (with spouse Nellie Ohr contracting on the Trump dossier while working Russia research), and the predawn raid on Paul Manafort’s home. He describes the firing of FBI director James Comey as the inflection point that allowed Deputy AG Rod Rosenstein to appoint former FBI director Robert Mueller as special counsel with an expansive brief. For Corsi, this locked in a legal siege—what he and Julian Assange both call lawfare—where criminal process substitutes for politics.

From Dossier to Daily Drumbeat

The Russian-collusion storyline, in his view, originated as paid opposition research (the Steele dossier) commissioned by the Clinton campaign and DNC through law firm Perkins Coie and research firm Fusion GPS, then laundered into law-enforcement and media ecosystems. Corsi details how the dossier traveled—from Steele to FBI, to members of Congress like Sen. John McCain, to BuzzFeed’s public posting—while major outlets amplified anonymous-source stories based on surveillance, unmasking, and classified leaks. If you’ve ever watched a cable news “breaking” story evaporate weeks later, you’ll recognize the meta-critique: narratives get set before evidence catches up.

Street Pressure Meets Media Pressure

Corsi argues media and institutional pressure received muscle from the streets. He traces funding networks (George Soros’s Open Society, Color of Change, Media Matters, Indivisible) and mobilizations (Women’s March, Antifa disruptions) as the cultural arm of the same project—normalizing the idea that Trump was illegitimate and must be contained. Whether you agree or disagree, the book helps you see how outside-the-capitol activism can synchronize with inside-the-Beltway maneuvers to create 24/7 pressure.

Why This Matters to You

If you care about civil liberties, separation of powers, and the line between law enforcement and politics, Corsi’s account forces a simple question: do processes exist that can remove or restrain an elected president without the electorate’s consent? The book suggests those processes matured over decades of wartime surveillance, financial impunity (e.g., HSBC’s 2012 settlement over cartel and sanctions laundering), and bipartisan habits of secrecy. It’s not just about Trump; it’s about any future leader who collides with the system’s defaults.

In the pages that follow, you’ll see how Corsi builds his case: (1) alleged bias and entrapment in federal agencies; (2) architecture of the collusion narrative (dossier, CrowdStrike, VIPS counter-analyses on DNC leaks); (3) unmasking and surveillance practices; (4) the leftward turn of Democratic activism and its media strategies; (5) claimed Democratic “Russia ties” via Uranium One and Skolkovo; (6) Mueller’s probe as lawfare; and (7) the author’s playbook for how a president wins a propaganda war. Whether you accept all, part, or none of the thesis, you’ll come away with a sharper eye for how narratives are built—and how much power lies in who gets to tell the story first.

Corsi’s entry point is visceral: private texts between FBI officials Peter Strzok and Lisa Page that ooze disdain for Trump and hint at an “insurance policy.” You see specific timestamps. In August 2016, Strzok wrote Page about a plan discussed in “Andy’s office” (understood as deputy director Andrew McCabe): “I want to believe… that there’s no way he gets elected—but I’m afraid we can’t take that risk. It’s like an insurance policy.” For the author, this reads less like personal venting and more like institutional preparation: if Trump wins anyway, a pre-laid foundation can hobble him.

Bias Meets Decision Points

You’re asked to connect two tracks: the FBI’s handling of Clinton’s email case and the Trump-Russia probe. Corsi notes that Strzok edited Director James Comey’s July 2016 draft statement on Hillary Clinton, reportedly changing the legal phrase “grossly negligent” (which maps directly to criminal statutes) to “extremely careless” (a non-criminal frame). He also highlights immunity deals for key aides like Cheryl Mills and a no-oath, no-transcript Hillary interview—details meant to leave you uneasy about double standards. Put bluntly: leniency on one side; hair-trigger escalation on the other.

The Manafort Raid as a Signal

Corsi then moves to tone: a predawn, door-picking raid on Paul Manafort’s home, despite his prior cooperation. To you, it showcases what he calls “police-state tactics” aimed not merely at gathering documents but intimidating the broader Trump circle. If you’ve seen cases where prosecutors choose theatricality (perp walks, tactical teams) when a subpoena would do, you’ll recognize the rhetorical move: signal strength, extract leverage, and feed headlines.

Follow the Ohrs, Follow the Money

The Bruce and Nellie Ohr thread ties DOJ leadership to the Steele dossier pipeline. Bruce Ohr—then an associate deputy attorney general—met with dossier author Christopher Steele and Fusion GPS’s Glenn Simpson while failing, the book says, to disclose those contacts internally. Nellie Ohr, a Russia specialist and reported CIA open-source researcher, simultaneously contracted with Fusion GPS and even obtained a ham radio license in May 2016—details Corsi frames as evidence of intention to communicate outside normal intercept risks. The implication: the investigative predicate and the investigating officials were interwoven.

Andrew McCabe’s Conflicts

Corsi underscores political spillover: Andrew McCabe’s wife, Jill McCabe, received about $675,000 in support via a PAC linked to Terry McAuliffe, a top Clinton ally, during her 2015 Virginia state senate race. Soon after, Andrew McCabe was in the small group managing the “special” Clinton email investigation and later became acting FBI director after Comey’s firing. You don’t need to assume corruption to feel how the optics are corrosive: prosecutorial impartiality dies from the appearance of bias as surely as from bias itself.

Weissmann’s Email and the Temper of Teams

Add prosecutorial temperament. Corsi cites a January 2017 email from Andrew Weissmann—later a top Mueller deputy—praising acting AG Sally Yates (“I am so proud”) for defying Trump’s travel order. He pulls from former federal prosecutor Sidney Powell’s Licensed to Lie to argue Weissmann pushes the edges to secure guilty pleas and headlines (Powell criticized Weissmann’s role in the Enron/Arthur Andersen case). Even if you see that as aggressive advocacy, not misconduct, Corsi wants you to ask whether such partisanship belongs on a supposedly neutral special counsel team.

(Context: Inspector General Michael Horowitz’s later reviews surfaced extensive Strzok–Page texts and added formal weight to concerns about bias, even as some official findings separated bias from case outcomes. The book, however, treats bias and outcome as inseparable.)

Why This Feels Personal to You

If agencies can edit legal terms in one case and launch dawn raids in another, you may wonder how rules would apply if you were the target. That’s the point: Corsi reframes a Beltway saga as a civic warning. Whether you’re a Trump supporter or simply protective of due process, the takeaway is clear—culture at the top of justice institutions matters, because it cascades into the decisions that shape investigations, reputations, and elections.

Corsi’s entry point is visceral: private texts between FBI officials Peter Strzok and Lisa Page that ooze disdain for Trump and hint at an “insurance policy.” You see specific timestamps. In August 2016, Strzok wrote Page about a plan discussed in “Andy’s office” (understood as deputy director Andrew McCabe): “I want to believe… that there’s no way he gets elected—but I’m afraid we can’t take that risk. It’s like an insurance policy.” For the author, this reads less like personal venting and more like institutional preparation: if Trump wins anyway, a pre-laid foundation can hobble him.

Bias Meets Decision Points

You’re asked to connect two tracks: the FBI’s handling of Clinton’s email case and the Trump-Russia probe. Corsi notes that Strzok edited Director James Comey’s July 2016 draft statement on Hillary Clinton, reportedly changing the legal phrase “grossly negligent” (which maps directly to criminal statutes) to “extremely careless” (a non-criminal frame). He also highlights immunity deals for key aides like Cheryl Mills and a no-oath, no-transcript Hillary interview—details meant to leave you uneasy about double standards. Put bluntly: leniency on one side; hair-trigger escalation on the other.

The Manafort Raid as a Signal

Corsi then moves to tone: a predawn, door-picking raid on Paul Manafort’s home, despite his prior cooperation. To you, it showcases what he calls “police-state tactics” aimed not merely at gathering documents but intimidating the broader Trump circle. If you’ve seen cases where prosecutors choose theatricality (perp walks, tactical teams) when a subpoena would do, you’ll recognize the rhetorical move: signal strength, extract leverage, and feed headlines.

Follow the Ohrs, Follow the Money

The Bruce and Nellie Ohr thread ties DOJ leadership to the Steele dossier pipeline. Bruce Ohr—then an associate deputy attorney general—met with dossier author Christopher Steele and Fusion GPS’s Glenn Simpson while failing, the book says, to disclose those contacts internally. Nellie Ohr, a Russia specialist and reported CIA open-source researcher, simultaneously contracted with Fusion GPS and even obtained a ham radio license in May 2016—details Corsi frames as evidence of intention to communicate outside normal intercept risks. The implication: the investigative predicate and the investigating officials were interwoven.

Andrew McCabe’s Conflicts

Corsi underscores political spillover: Andrew McCabe’s wife, Jill McCabe, received about $675,000 in support via a PAC linked to Terry McAuliffe, a top Clinton ally, during her 2015 Virginia state senate race. Soon after, Andrew McCabe was in the small group managing the “special” Clinton email investigation and later became acting FBI director after Comey’s firing. You don’t need to assume corruption to feel how the optics are corrosive: prosecutorial impartiality dies from the appearance of bias as surely as from bias itself.

Weissmann’s Email and the Temper of Teams

Add prosecutorial temperament. Corsi cites a January 2017 email from Andrew Weissmann—later a top Mueller deputy—praising acting AG Sally Yates (“I am so proud”) for defying Trump’s travel order. He pulls from former federal prosecutor Sidney Powell’s Licensed to Lie to argue Weissmann pushes the edges to secure guilty pleas and headlines (Powell criticized Weissmann’s role in the Enron/Arthur Andersen case). Even if you see that as aggressive advocacy, not misconduct, Corsi wants you to ask whether such partisanship belongs on a supposedly neutral special counsel team.

(Context: Inspector General Michael Horowitz’s later reviews surfaced extensive Strzok–Page texts and added formal weight to concerns about bias, even as some official findings separated bias from case outcomes. The book, however, treats bias and outcome as inseparable.)

Why This Feels Personal to You

If agencies can edit legal terms in one case and launch dawn raids in another, you may wonder how rules would apply if you were the target. That’s the point: Corsi reframes a Beltway saga as a civic warning. Whether you’re a Trump supporter or simply protective of due process, the takeaway is clear—culture at the top of justice institutions matters, because it cascades into the decisions that shape investigations, reputations, and elections.

Corsi’s most detailed scaffolding surrounds the “Russian collusion” narrative—how it was conceived, funded, laundered into official channels, and blasted into the public sphere. If you’ve ever watched a rumor ossify into “what everyone knows,” this chapter reads like an instruction manual. It begins with Fusion GPS opposition research initially funded by GOP donor Paul Singer to scope Trump in 2015, then taken over by the Clinton campaign and DNC in April 2016 through the law firm Perkins Coie. That firm, the book notes, had earlier represented Barack Obama on personal matters (including retrieval logistics around Obama’s birth certificate) and served as a legal hub for Democratic causes.

From Steele to BuzzFeed

Former MI6 officer Christopher Steele compiled memos alleging Trump–Russia entanglements. Corsi traces crucial handoffs: Steele to FBI counterintelligence (Peter Strzok), to sympathetic media briefings, to Sen. John McCain (who dispatched an emissary to pick up the dossier and deliver it to the FBI). When major outlets hesitated to publish unverified claims, BuzzFeed ran the full memos online on January 10, 2017, supercharging coverage. The book’s core allegation: unverified political oppo became the investigative predicate for surveillance and the backbone of a media script.

CrowdStrike, Guccifer 2.0, and an Alternative Forensics

On the DNC email theft, Corsi challenges the official story (Russians hacked; Wikileaks published). He highlights that the DNC’s own contractor, CrowdStrike, attributed the intrusion to Russian actors “Cozy Bear” and “Fancy Bear,” while federal agencies reportedly did not forensically seize the DNC server themselves. In contrast, a group of former intelligence analysts (Veteran Intelligence Professionals for Sanity—VIPS) argued from metadata that one July 2016 data transfer fit local copying speeds rather than a remote hack. Corsi also invokes Julian Assange’s repeated statements that the source was not a “state actor,” and his public interest in DNC staffer Seth Rich’s unsolved murder.

(Note: Mainstream reporting and subsequent federal indictments contradicted the VIPS claim; Corsi’s narrative reflects the skepticism angle, not the later Mueller team attributions. Reading both together helps you calibrate confidence and uncertainty.)

Anonymous Sources and a Daily Cascade

You see the media mechanics: anonymous “current and former officials” seed stories suggesting alarming contacts (e.g., “senior Russians discussed influencing Trump via Manafort and Flynn”). Even when cautioned as “not conclusive,” the frame does the work; the audience rarely reads the hedges. Corsi argues many such stories flowed from illegally leaked, highly classified intercepts and from the unmasking of Trump associates caught up in foreign-targeted surveillance.

Tiny Signals, Big Headlines

Finally, Corsi examines the “Russian ads swung the election” meme. In late 2017 Senate hearings, Facebook, Twitter, and Google testified the Russian-origin content constituted a minuscule fraction of impressions (Facebook: ~$100k spend; Twitter: 0.74% of election-related tweets; Google: limited YouTube content with low view counts). He pairs that with Twitter’s admission that it suppressed some anti-Clinton hashtags for automation concerns—suggesting platform interventions cut both ways. For you, the implication is humbling: in a multibillion-dollar campaign, the outsized power wasn’t a few foreign memes but a domestic narrative-making machine that set the terms of debate every day.

Why This Matters to You

If you consume news, you’re part of the supply chain. The lesson here is not to reject all reporting, but to slow down when a single storyline explains everything. Ask: what was verified, by whom, based on what original evidence? Who benefits from speed? Corsi’s answer is blunt: the first cut at reality often wins, and in 2016–2017, the cut was sharpened by political money, official leaks, and digital virality.

Corsi’s most detailed scaffolding surrounds the “Russian collusion” narrative—how it was conceived, funded, laundered into official channels, and blasted into the public sphere. If you’ve ever watched a rumor ossify into “what everyone knows,” this chapter reads like an instruction manual. It begins with Fusion GPS opposition research initially funded by GOP donor Paul Singer to scope Trump in 2015, then taken over by the Clinton campaign and DNC in April 2016 through the law firm Perkins Coie. That firm, the book notes, had earlier represented Barack Obama on personal matters (including retrieval logistics around Obama’s birth certificate) and served as a legal hub for Democratic causes.

From Steele to BuzzFeed

Former MI6 officer Christopher Steele compiled memos alleging Trump–Russia entanglements. Corsi traces crucial handoffs: Steele to FBI counterintelligence (Peter Strzok), to sympathetic media briefings, to Sen. John McCain (who dispatched an emissary to pick up the dossier and deliver it to the FBI). When major outlets hesitated to publish unverified claims, BuzzFeed ran the full memos online on January 10, 2017, supercharging coverage. The book’s core allegation: unverified political oppo became the investigative predicate for surveillance and the backbone of a media script.

CrowdStrike, Guccifer 2.0, and an Alternative Forensics

On the DNC email theft, Corsi challenges the official story (Russians hacked; Wikileaks published). He highlights that the DNC’s own contractor, CrowdStrike, attributed the intrusion to Russian actors “Cozy Bear” and “Fancy Bear,” while federal agencies reportedly did not forensically seize the DNC server themselves. In contrast, a group of former intelligence analysts (Veteran Intelligence Professionals for Sanity—VIPS) argued from metadata that one July 2016 data transfer fit local copying speeds rather than a remote hack. Corsi also invokes Julian Assange’s repeated statements that the source was not a “state actor,” and his public interest in DNC staffer Seth Rich’s unsolved murder.

(Note: Mainstream reporting and subsequent federal indictments contradicted the VIPS claim; Corsi’s narrative reflects the skepticism angle, not the later Mueller team attributions. Reading both together helps you calibrate confidence and uncertainty.)

Anonymous Sources and a Daily Cascade

You see the media mechanics: anonymous “current and former officials” seed stories suggesting alarming contacts (e.g., “senior Russians discussed influencing Trump via Manafort and Flynn”). Even when cautioned as “not conclusive,” the frame does the work; the audience rarely reads the hedges. Corsi argues many such stories flowed from illegally leaked, highly classified intercepts and from the unmasking of Trump associates caught up in foreign-targeted surveillance.

Tiny Signals, Big Headlines

Finally, Corsi examines the “Russian ads swung the election” meme. In late 2017 Senate hearings, Facebook, Twitter, and Google testified the Russian-origin content constituted a minuscule fraction of impressions (Facebook: ~$100k spend; Twitter: 0.74% of election-related tweets; Google: limited YouTube content with low view counts). He pairs that with Twitter’s admission that it suppressed some anti-Clinton hashtags for automation concerns—suggesting platform interventions cut both ways. For you, the implication is humbling: in a multibillion-dollar campaign, the outsized power wasn’t a few foreign memes but a domestic narrative-making machine that set the terms of debate every day.

Why This Matters to You

If you consume news, you’re part of the supply chain. The lesson here is not to reject all reporting, but to slow down when a single storyline explains everything. Ask: what was verified, by whom, based on what original evidence? Who benefits from speed? Corsi’s answer is blunt: the first cut at reality often wins, and in 2016–2017, the cut was sharpened by political money, official leaks, and digital virality.

If the dossier is the script, surveillance is the stagecraft. Corsi walks you through how foreign-intelligence collection can implicate domestic players—then how identities can be “unmasked” and information leaked. Start with the legal framework: under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA), the government can monitor foreign targets; incidentally collected U.S. persons are masked in reporting. Unmasking is supposed to be rare, justified, logged. During 2016–2017, senior Obama officials—National Security Adviser Susan Rice, U.N. Ambassador Samantha Power, and CIA Director John Brennan—are alleged to have requested multiple unmaskings of Trump associates.

From Collection to Headlines

Here’s the alleged journey: NSA and FBI collect communications under FISA and Section 702 programs (PRISM and “upstream”). Requests to unmask then reveal U.S. identities (e.g., “incoming national security advisor” becomes “Gen. Michael Flynn”). Leaks to media transform classified intercepts into “sourced” allegations. Corsi points to a string of New York Times stories sourced to “current and former officials,” and to the CNN report that U.S. investigators had wiretapped Paul Manafort before and after the election. Even if elements are later disputed, the drumbeat sets public expectations—and congressional timelines.

The Tech Infrastructure Behind It

To make the risk concrete, Corsi revisits Edward Snowden’s 2013 disclosures: PRISM taps into major platforms (Facebook, Google, Apple, Microsoft); “upstream” captures traffic transiting global backbones. ACLU analyses warned that Americans’ international emails and browsing can be searched without warrants if “foreign intelligence” is a significant purpose. Whistleblowers like William Binney claimed the NSA’s ambition approached “total population control.” Whether you see that as hyperbole or prescience, it explains how granular “incidental” collection can be—and why unmasking matters.

Rice’s Explanation—and the Skeptic’s Reply

Rice later said her unmasking requests were tied to legitimate foreign-policy concerns (for example, unexplained visits by the UAE crown prince Mohammed bin Zayed) and denied political motives. Corsi’s rejoinder is pattern, not one case: multiple unmaskings; an aggressive leak environment; and timing that coincided with the final weeks of the campaign and transition. Layer onto that former DNI James Clapper’s January 2017 high-confidence assessment that Russia preferred Trump (even as Clapper also said he had seen no evidence of collusion at that time), and you get the book’s core suspicion: intelligence conclusions shaped the media frame that drove legal exposure.

FISA as a “Poison Tree”

Corsi raises the “fruit of the poisonous tree” idea: if FISA warrants were granted based on faulty or partisan evidence (e.g., the Steele dossier), downstream prosecutions could be tainted. He presses FBI Director Christopher Wray’s refusal (in a 2017 hearing) to say whether the dossier was used in FISA applications as a tell. Even if you’re not a lawyer, you see the logic—bad predicate, bad case. The larger lesson for you is structural: extraordinary surveillance powers require extraordinary neutrality. If neutrality cracks, trust in both surveillance and justice collapses.

What You Can Do

You don’t control FISA courts, but you do control scrutiny. Demand sourcing transparency in coverage based on intercepts. Support reforms requiring independent advocates in FISA proceedings (an idea civil-liberties groups on the left and right have floated). And remember: the loop from collection to narrative is short. Don’t let speed outrun verification.

If the dossier is the script, surveillance is the stagecraft. Corsi walks you through how foreign-intelligence collection can implicate domestic players—then how identities can be “unmasked” and information leaked. Start with the legal framework: under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA), the government can monitor foreign targets; incidentally collected U.S. persons are masked in reporting. Unmasking is supposed to be rare, justified, logged. During 2016–2017, senior Obama officials—National Security Adviser Susan Rice, U.N. Ambassador Samantha Power, and CIA Director John Brennan—are alleged to have requested multiple unmaskings of Trump associates.

From Collection to Headlines

Here’s the alleged journey: NSA and FBI collect communications under FISA and Section 702 programs (PRISM and “upstream”). Requests to unmask then reveal U.S. identities (e.g., “incoming national security advisor” becomes “Gen. Michael Flynn”). Leaks to media transform classified intercepts into “sourced” allegations. Corsi points to a string of New York Times stories sourced to “current and former officials,” and to the CNN report that U.S. investigators had wiretapped Paul Manafort before and after the election. Even if elements are later disputed, the drumbeat sets public expectations—and congressional timelines.

The Tech Infrastructure Behind It

To make the risk concrete, Corsi revisits Edward Snowden’s 2013 disclosures: PRISM taps into major platforms (Facebook, Google, Apple, Microsoft); “upstream” captures traffic transiting global backbones. ACLU analyses warned that Americans’ international emails and browsing can be searched without warrants if “foreign intelligence” is a significant purpose. Whistleblowers like William Binney claimed the NSA’s ambition approached “total population control.” Whether you see that as hyperbole or prescience, it explains how granular “incidental” collection can be—and why unmasking matters.

Rice’s Explanation—and the Skeptic’s Reply

Rice later said her unmasking requests were tied to legitimate foreign-policy concerns (for example, unexplained visits by the UAE crown prince Mohammed bin Zayed) and denied political motives. Corsi’s rejoinder is pattern, not one case: multiple unmaskings; an aggressive leak environment; and timing that coincided with the final weeks of the campaign and transition. Layer onto that former DNI James Clapper’s January 2017 high-confidence assessment that Russia preferred Trump (even as Clapper also said he had seen no evidence of collusion at that time), and you get the book’s core suspicion: intelligence conclusions shaped the media frame that drove legal exposure.

FISA as a “Poison Tree”

Corsi raises the “fruit of the poisonous tree” idea: if FISA warrants were granted based on faulty or partisan evidence (e.g., the Steele dossier), downstream prosecutions could be tainted. He presses FBI Director Christopher Wray’s refusal (in a 2017 hearing) to say whether the dossier was used in FISA applications as a tell. Even if you’re not a lawyer, you see the logic—bad predicate, bad case. The larger lesson for you is structural: extraordinary surveillance powers require extraordinary neutrality. If neutrality cracks, trust in both surveillance and justice collapses.

What You Can Do

You don’t control FISA courts, but you do control scrutiny. Demand sourcing transparency in coverage based on intercepts. Support reforms requiring independent advocates in FISA proceedings (an idea civil-liberties groups on the left and right have floated). And remember: the loop from collection to narrative is short. Don’t let speed outrun verification.

To Corsi, the cultural pressure around Trump wasn’t spontaneous—it was organized, funded, and strategically synchronized with legal and media campaigns. You meet the architecture: Media Matters (David Brock’s rapid-response machine), Color of Change (advertiser pressure campaigns), Indivisible (town hall disruptions), and larger funders like George Soros’s Open Society foundations. The examples are specific: Media Matters’ 2017 donor brief pitching a “2020 Plan” to punish platforms that “host fake news” and to de-platform right-leaning content; advertiser boycotts that helped force Glenn Beck from Fox News and Pat Buchanan from MSNBC; and the rapid spin-up of the Women’s March one day after Inauguration.

From Hashtags to Hand-to-Hand

The Indivisible Guide, written by former Hill staffers, codified Tea-Party tactics for the left: flood phones, swarm town halls, control optics (“coordinate your message and chant,” “make local press write the angle you want”). Whether you admire or dislike the tactics, you can feel the power: a handful of organized activists can dominate a room and, by extension, the next day’s coverage. Corsi sees this not as civic engagement but as part of a broader “resist and obstruct” doctrine designed to cripple the policy agenda (immigration, repeal-and-replace, deregulation).

Antifa and the Politics of Disruption

He devotes a chapter to Antifa—framed as a violent, Marxist-Leninist street force declared a domestic-terrorism concern in some DHS assessments—citing Inauguration Day riots, the Milo Yiannopoulos event shutdown in Berkeley, and disruptions of pro–free speech rallies. The argument isn’t that all protest is illegitimate; it’s that normalized spectacles of masked violence shift the Overton window toward accepting any means as justified to block “fascism,” defined ever more broadly as mainstream conservatism. If you’re a parent deciding whether to attend a talk on campus, fear does the rest.

Platform Leverage and Narrative Control

Corsi pairs street action with platform policy. Within days of the 2016 election, Google and Facebook announced ad-tools restrictions for “fake news” sites; months later, Google reported banning 200 publishers from AdSense. Media Matters bragged it had pressured Facebook to “acknowledge the problem” and change policies. Meanwhile, Twitter later testified it down-ranked some anti-Clinton hashtags as automated spam and suspended bot-like accounts. Even if you welcome platform hygiene, the book invites you to consider who decides the definitions and who benefits from their ambiguity—especially when former political operatives sit close to the levers.

The Human Side—and Your Role

Why does this matter to you? Because narrative power is lived before it’s legislated. If peaceful political events routinely end in threats, families stay home. If advertisers fear campaigns more than customers, media silos harden. If platforms cede definitional power to the loudest actors, dissent narrows. You don’t need to be pro-Trump to resist that slide. Show up peacefully. Support debate even when it’s uncomfortable. And remember: a pluralistic culture protects your voice, too.

To Corsi, the cultural pressure around Trump wasn’t spontaneous—it was organized, funded, and strategically synchronized with legal and media campaigns. You meet the architecture: Media Matters (David Brock’s rapid-response machine), Color of Change (advertiser pressure campaigns), Indivisible (town hall disruptions), and larger funders like George Soros’s Open Society foundations. The examples are specific: Media Matters’ 2017 donor brief pitching a “2020 Plan” to punish platforms that “host fake news” and to de-platform right-leaning content; advertiser boycotts that helped force Glenn Beck from Fox News and Pat Buchanan from MSNBC; and the rapid spin-up of the Women’s March one day after Inauguration.

From Hashtags to Hand-to-Hand

The Indivisible Guide, written by former Hill staffers, codified Tea-Party tactics for the left: flood phones, swarm town halls, control optics (“coordinate your message and chant,” “make local press write the angle you want”). Whether you admire or dislike the tactics, you can feel the power: a handful of organized activists can dominate a room and, by extension, the next day’s coverage. Corsi sees this not as civic engagement but as part of a broader “resist and obstruct” doctrine designed to cripple the policy agenda (immigration, repeal-and-replace, deregulation).

Antifa and the Politics of Disruption

He devotes a chapter to Antifa—framed as a violent, Marxist-Leninist street force declared a domestic-terrorism concern in some DHS assessments—citing Inauguration Day riots, the Milo Yiannopoulos event shutdown in Berkeley, and disruptions of pro–free speech rallies. The argument isn’t that all protest is illegitimate; it’s that normalized spectacles of masked violence shift the Overton window toward accepting any means as justified to block “fascism,” defined ever more broadly as mainstream conservatism. If you’re a parent deciding whether to attend a talk on campus, fear does the rest.

Platform Leverage and Narrative Control

Corsi pairs street action with platform policy. Within days of the 2016 election, Google and Facebook announced ad-tools restrictions for “fake news” sites; months later, Google reported banning 200 publishers from AdSense. Media Matters bragged it had pressured Facebook to “acknowledge the problem” and change policies. Meanwhile, Twitter later testified it down-ranked some anti-Clinton hashtags as automated spam and suspended bot-like accounts. Even if you welcome platform hygiene, the book invites you to consider who decides the definitions and who benefits from their ambiguity—especially when former political operatives sit close to the levers.

The Human Side—and Your Role

Why does this matter to you? Because narrative power is lived before it’s legislated. If peaceful political events routinely end in threats, families stay home. If advertisers fear campaigns more than customers, media silos harden. If platforms cede definitional power to the loudest actors, dissent narrows. You don’t need to be pro-Trump to resist that slide. Show up peacefully. Support debate even when it’s uncomfortable. And remember: a pluralistic culture protects your voice, too.

Corsi flips the collusion question onto Democrats, arguing that the most consequential Russia ties ran through the Clinton Foundation, CFIUS approvals, and a Silicon Valley–style technology hub in Moscow. The Uranium One saga starts in Kazakhstan (2005): Canadian financier Frank Giustra’s UrAsia gains lucrative uranium rights as Bill Clinton visits Almaty on a Clinton Foundation HIV/AIDS mission (Corsi cites subsequent Giustra donations—tens of millions—to the Foundation). By 2013, Russian state nuclear firm Rosatom acquires 100% of Uranium One, giving it control over roughly 20% of U.S. uranium production capacity—after CFIUS (on which State, chaired by Secretary Hillary Clinton’s department, and Treasury sit) approved the deal in 2010 and again in 2013.

What Did the Feds Know—And When?

Here’s the pivot: Corsi points to a separate FBI investigation (under then–FBI Director Robert Mueller and U.S. Attorney Rod Rosenstein) that had uncovered, by 2009–2010, a Rosatom-linked kickback and money-laundering scheme in the U.S. nuclear fuel market (via Tenex/Tenam). A confidential source (CS-1) wore a wire; evidence suggested racketeering. Yet CFIUS was reportedly not told as it weighed approvals. For Corsi, that’s the dagger—if a bribery probe touched the same Russian state actor seeking a strategic U.S. acquisition, how did the deal go through?

Skolkovo and Tech Transfer

He then widens the aperture to the “reset” with Russia. The Skolkovo Innovation Center—a Kremlin-backed “Russian Silicon Valley”—attracted major U.S. corporate partners (Cisco, Intel) and philanthropic ties to the Clinton orbit. The Government Accountability Institute argued Skolkovo fostered dual-use tech transfers (some with potential military relevance). John Podesta—Clinton’s 2016 chair—served on Joule boards (a company that received investment from a Russian government fund, Rusnano); he later transferred stock options to a private entity linked to a family address. Even if you read these as standard global ties, Corsi wants you to notice the mirror-image logic: the same circles accusing Trump of Russia ties had their own, more concrete financial interlocks.

The Mueller Contrast: Banks and Manafort

To press the double-standard theme, Corsi pairs the 2012 HSBC case—where the bank admitted to laundering cartel and sanctioned-country funds and paid $1.9B in deferred penalties under Attorney General Eric Holder and U.S. Attorney Loretta Lynch—with Mueller’s 2017–2018 indictments of Manafort and Rick Gates for money laundering and FARA violations tied to Ukraine. The thought experiment for you: Why did systemic bank laundering produce fines without executive prosecutions, while consulting income routed through offshore entities generated dawn raids and heavy charges? The answer may be mundane (institutional risk, legal thresholds), but the juxtaposition fuels the book’s claim that prosecutions track politics.

What This Means for You

Even if you don’t buy every inference, the practical lesson is sturdy: apply one standard. If political opposition research can become a counterintelligence predicate, it deserves full sunlight. If foreign-influence risks matter, they matter for everyone. And if you want future administrations to avoid conflicts, insist on transparent recusal rules and real-time disclosures—because once deals close, it’s too late.

Corsi flips the collusion question onto Democrats, arguing that the most consequential Russia ties ran through the Clinton Foundation, CFIUS approvals, and a Silicon Valley–style technology hub in Moscow. The Uranium One saga starts in Kazakhstan (2005): Canadian financier Frank Giustra’s UrAsia gains lucrative uranium rights as Bill Clinton visits Almaty on a Clinton Foundation HIV/AIDS mission (Corsi cites subsequent Giustra donations—tens of millions—to the Foundation). By 2013, Russian state nuclear firm Rosatom acquires 100% of Uranium One, giving it control over roughly 20% of U.S. uranium production capacity—after CFIUS (on which State, chaired by Secretary Hillary Clinton’s department, and Treasury sit) approved the deal in 2010 and again in 2013.

What Did the Feds Know—And When?

Here’s the pivot: Corsi points to a separate FBI investigation (under then–FBI Director Robert Mueller and U.S. Attorney Rod Rosenstein) that had uncovered, by 2009–2010, a Rosatom-linked kickback and money-laundering scheme in the U.S. nuclear fuel market (via Tenex/Tenam). A confidential source (CS-1) wore a wire; evidence suggested racketeering. Yet CFIUS was reportedly not told as it weighed approvals. For Corsi, that’s the dagger—if a bribery probe touched the same Russian state actor seeking a strategic U.S. acquisition, how did the deal go through?

Skolkovo and Tech Transfer

He then widens the aperture to the “reset” with Russia. The Skolkovo Innovation Center—a Kremlin-backed “Russian Silicon Valley”—attracted major U.S. corporate partners (Cisco, Intel) and philanthropic ties to the Clinton orbit. The Government Accountability Institute argued Skolkovo fostered dual-use tech transfers (some with potential military relevance). John Podesta—Clinton’s 2016 chair—served on Joule boards (a company that received investment from a Russian government fund, Rusnano); he later transferred stock options to a private entity linked to a family address. Even if you read these as standard global ties, Corsi wants you to notice the mirror-image logic: the same circles accusing Trump of Russia ties had their own, more concrete financial interlocks.

The Mueller Contrast: Banks and Manafort

To press the double-standard theme, Corsi pairs the 2012 HSBC case—where the bank admitted to laundering cartel and sanctioned-country funds and paid $1.9B in deferred penalties under Attorney General Eric Holder and U.S. Attorney Loretta Lynch—with Mueller’s 2017–2018 indictments of Manafort and Rick Gates for money laundering and FARA violations tied to Ukraine. The thought experiment for you: Why did systemic bank laundering produce fines without executive prosecutions, while consulting income routed through offshore entities generated dawn raids and heavy charges? The answer may be mundane (institutional risk, legal thresholds), but the juxtaposition fuels the book’s claim that prosecutions track politics.

What This Means for You

Even if you don’t buy every inference, the practical lesson is sturdy: apply one standard. If political opposition research can become a counterintelligence predicate, it deserves full sunlight. If foreign-influence risks matter, they matter for everyone. And if you want future administrations to avoid conflicts, insist on transparent recusal rules and real-time disclosures—because once deals close, it’s too late.

Corsi frames the special counsel not as neutral fact-finder but as the spearpoint of “lawfare”: using legal processes to achieve political ends. The chain reaction is straightforward. Trump fires FBI Director James Comey on May 9, 2017 (with a memo from Deputy AG Rod Rosenstein criticizing Comey’s Clinton-email handling). Media and Democrats allege obstruction; Rosenstein appoints Robert Mueller on May 17 with an expansive charter (“any links and/or coordination” plus “any matters”). From there, the investigation’s breadth (from FARA filings to decades-old tax questions) becomes a force multiplier—pressure for pleas, leverage for cooperation, headlines for momentum.

Indictments—and What They Don’t Say

Manafort and Gates are charged with money laundering/tax offenses tied to Ukraine lobbying years before the campaign. George Papadopoulos pleads to lying to the FBI about timing of Russia contacts; the book underscores that campaign leadership didn’t act on his “dirt on Hillary” proposal. Corsi’s point to you is structural: the narrative said “collusion,” but the early charges said “paper crimes.” While later proceedings added other targets, the book’s 2018 vantage highlights a mismatch between promise and proof that, in Corsi’s view, vindicates the propaganda hypothesis.

Prosecution by Newspaper

He then zooms into ethics, recounting U.S. District Judge P. Kevin Castel’s 2016–2017 findings that an FBI agent leaked grand-jury details to the New York Times and Wall Street Journal in an unrelated insider-trading case overseen by U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara—then noting Mueller hired a Bharara lieutenant (Andrew Goldstein). The broader thrust: when selective leaks shape perception ahead of trials, the legal arena is already tilted. If you’ve ever been asked to “prove a negative” in public, you’ll recognize the trap: the process is the punishment.

Standards for the Powerful, Standards for You

Add the HSBC contrast (institutional impunity) and Andrew Weissmann’s “proud of you” email to Sally Yates (partisan temperature), and you see the book’s fairness claim: dispassion is the oxygen of justice. Corsi’s outrage is not just that Trump was investigated; it’s that the people doing the investigating looked aligned emotionally and professionally with one side of a political fight. If you want a justice system you can trust, you need guardrails that prevent that look—and the behaviors that often follow it.

Your Takeaway

When the state’s legal machinery engages politics, precision matters. Demand clarity of scope. Demand timely disclosure of exculpatory facts, not just incriminating leaks. And remember: tools built to constrain one adversary don’t disappear—they get used on the next outsider. If you want less lawfare, you need a political culture that can absorb elections without criminalizing disagreement.

Corsi frames the special counsel not as neutral fact-finder but as the spearpoint of “lawfare”: using legal processes to achieve political ends. The chain reaction is straightforward. Trump fires FBI Director James Comey on May 9, 2017 (with a memo from Deputy AG Rod Rosenstein criticizing Comey’s Clinton-email handling). Media and Democrats allege obstruction; Rosenstein appoints Robert Mueller on May 17 with an expansive charter (“any links and/or coordination” plus “any matters”). From there, the investigation’s breadth (from FARA filings to decades-old tax questions) becomes a force multiplier—pressure for pleas, leverage for cooperation, headlines for momentum.

Indictments—and What They Don’t Say

Manafort and Gates are charged with money laundering/tax offenses tied to Ukraine lobbying years before the campaign. George Papadopoulos pleads to lying to the FBI about timing of Russia contacts; the book underscores that campaign leadership didn’t act on his “dirt on Hillary” proposal. Corsi’s point to you is structural: the narrative said “collusion,” but the early charges said “paper crimes.” While later proceedings added other targets, the book’s 2018 vantage highlights a mismatch between promise and proof that, in Corsi’s view, vindicates the propaganda hypothesis.

Prosecution by Newspaper

He then zooms into ethics, recounting U.S. District Judge P. Kevin Castel’s 2016–2017 findings that an FBI agent leaked grand-jury details to the New York Times and Wall Street Journal in an unrelated insider-trading case overseen by U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara—then noting Mueller hired a Bharara lieutenant (Andrew Goldstein). The broader thrust: when selective leaks shape perception ahead of trials, the legal arena is already tilted. If you’ve ever been asked to “prove a negative” in public, you’ll recognize the trap: the process is the punishment.

Standards for the Powerful, Standards for You

Add the HSBC contrast (institutional impunity) and Andrew Weissmann’s “proud of you” email to Sally Yates (partisan temperature), and you see the book’s fairness claim: dispassion is the oxygen of justice. Corsi’s outrage is not just that Trump was investigated; it’s that the people doing the investigating looked aligned emotionally and professionally with one side of a political fight. If you want a justice system you can trust, you need guardrails that prevent that look—and the behaviors that often follow it.

Your Takeaway

When the state’s legal machinery engages politics, precision matters. Demand clarity of scope. Demand timely disclosure of exculpatory facts, not just incriminating leaks. And remember: tools built to constrain one adversary don’t disappear—they get used on the next outsider. If you want less lawfare, you need a political culture that can absorb elections without criminalizing disagreement.

Corsi ends with a playbook: if the fight is narrative-first, win the narrative. You can think of it as PR judo—don’t just rebut, reframe and overwhelm. He lists two counter-rules. First, time erodes propaganda when prosecutions don’t match charges; patience is a weapon. Second, presidents have unique agenda-setting power; use it to change the subject legitimately. That means pivoting to national-security initiatives (think Reagan’s Reykjavík and SDI dominating the news cycle), policy moves with tangible benefits, and structural actions that expose the Deep State’s incentives.

Use the Presidency’s Levers

Corsi urges aggressive but lawful governance. Issue executive orders unwinding contentious Obama-era regulations (Paris Climate Accord withdrawal, for example) to keep your base energized and the press chasing your policy rather than their storyline. Launch bold diplomacy in places that force real coverage (Middle East talks; Russia–Iran containment strategies), not symbolic “wag-the-dog” strikes. And on the home front, restructure agencies: execute reductions in force, consolidate or close departments that have become ideological (EPA, Education), and reform rules-making that effectively legislates without Congress.

Build a Legal Fortress

On lawfare, Corsi says: lawyer up with top outside counsel; demand symmetry (investigate Uranium One, Skolkovo, IRS targeting); and appoint a truly independent special prosecutor for Democratic-linked scandals to re-balance the field. The goal isn’t vengeance—it’s parity and deterrence. When both sides know sunlight is coming, both sides behave.

Take Back the Mic

A striking tactical suggestion: rethink the White House press room. Suspend daily briefings during renovations; move briefings to a larger Executive Office auditorium; broaden credentials to include digital outlets; and flood the zone with your own daily “Breaking News” written briefings focused on unmasking, FISA reform, and dossier funding. The principle for you is evergreen—don’t accept hostile ground rules as fixed. Redesign the arena so facts, not theatrics, dominate.

What You Can Use Tomorrow

You may not run a presidency, but the playbook scales. Don’t let a single frame define a complex issue; introduce new, verifiable facts. Build alliances that can repeat truth consistently. Demand channels that don’t gatekeep one side out. And remember Corsi’s blunt insight: in the modern information battlespace, winning isn’t just about being right—it’s about setting the terms of what counts as real in the first place.

Corsi ends with a playbook: if the fight is narrative-first, win the narrative. You can think of it as PR judo—don’t just rebut, reframe and overwhelm. He lists two counter-rules. First, time erodes propaganda when prosecutions don’t match charges; patience is a weapon. Second, presidents have unique agenda-setting power; use it to change the subject legitimately. That means pivoting to national-security initiatives (think Reagan’s Reykjavík and SDI dominating the news cycle), policy moves with tangible benefits, and structural actions that expose the Deep State’s incentives.

Use the Presidency’s Levers

Corsi urges aggressive but lawful governance. Issue executive orders unwinding contentious Obama-era regulations (Paris Climate Accord withdrawal, for example) to keep your base energized and the press chasing your policy rather than their storyline. Launch bold diplomacy in places that force real coverage (Middle East talks; Russia–Iran containment strategies), not symbolic “wag-the-dog” strikes. And on the home front, restructure agencies: execute reductions in force, consolidate or close departments that have become ideological (EPA, Education), and reform rules-making that effectively legislates without Congress.

Build a Legal Fortress

On lawfare, Corsi says: lawyer up with top outside counsel; demand symmetry (investigate Uranium One, Skolkovo, IRS targeting); and appoint a truly independent special prosecutor for Democratic-linked scandals to re-balance the field. The goal isn’t vengeance—it’s parity and deterrence. When both sides know sunlight is coming, both sides behave.

Take Back the Mic

A striking tactical suggestion: rethink the White House press room. Suspend daily briefings during renovations; move briefings to a larger Executive Office auditorium; broaden credentials to include digital outlets; and flood the zone with your own daily “Breaking News” written briefings focused on unmasking, FISA reform, and dossier funding. The principle for you is evergreen—don’t accept hostile ground rules as fixed. Redesign the arena so facts, not theatrics, dominate.

What You Can Use Tomorrow

You may not run a presidency, but the playbook scales. Don’t let a single frame define a complex issue; introduce new, verifiable facts. Build alliances that can repeat truth consistently. Demand channels that don’t gatekeep one side out. And remember Corsi’s blunt insight: in the modern information battlespace, winning isn’t just about being right—it’s about setting the terms of what counts as real in the first place.