327 Co-Pilot Revises it’s Revisal of Chat GPT

Chapter Title: Indictment in Search of a Crime

⚖️ The False Foundation

As usual, The New York Times correction was buried deep—paragraph seven of another long article—where they finally acknowledged that Clinton’s emails “were not marked classified.”

“The two investigators did not say whether Mrs. Clinton sent or received the emails [with classified information]. If she received them, it is not clear that she would have known they contained government secrets, since they were not marked classified.”

This distinction should have reshaped the narrative. Instead, it was treated as a footnote.

The Times had already launched its framing, one that came to define Emailgate: Hillary Clinton was guilty of something. What that “something” was kept changing. The story morphed—always ambiguous, always damning.

Even after Comey belatedly cleared her, 60% of poll respondents still believed Clinton had gotten away with something. This wasn’t about evidence. It was about narrative expectation.

“Irrespective of terminology, the referral raises the possibility of a Justice Department investigation…” 📚 Location 685

That phrase—irrespective of terminology—was a rhetorical shrug that dodged legal nuance. Terminology wasn’t a quibble. It was the line between criminal liability and bureaucratic disagreement.

“Mishandling of classified information is a crime,” the article reminded readers. But by their own reporting, Clinton’s emails weren’t marked. So why say it?

The article included DOJ’s statement that no decision had been made about an investigation. But again, what purpose did that serve—other than pre-seeding a narrative?

As Davis noted, the tone was clear: Maybe we weren’t right today… but just wait.

🧠 The Presumption Trap

Even liberal voices fed the beast. Chris Hayes ended his major Clinton interview by asking if she feared indictment. That final question amplified the notion that guilt was inevitable—even if undefined.

Meanwhile, the FBI wasn’t opening a criminal investigation of Clinton herself. It was an UNSUB—unknown subjects.

Yet in the public imagination, the die was cast.

The investigation had no clear subject. But our investigation of Emailgate does. And it begins with James Comey, John Giacalone, and Randy Coleman—the trio enraged over DOJ’s use of the word “matter” instead of “investigation.”

Their indignation doesn’t pass the laugh test. Especially when you realize they likely opened the investigation themselves.

🔍 The Document Dump

Chapter Two of Davis’ book—“The FBI Criminal Investigation”—opens with a telling scene. On Sunday, January 8, 2017, the FBI released 200 documents from the Clinton probe via its FOIA vault—exactly two months after Trump’s election.

📎 FN: If Emailgate doesn’t warrant an electoral asterisk, nothing does.

Three documents stood out:

1️⃣ The July 10 Opening Memo

This memo opened a “criminal investigation” of Hillary Clinton. But again—it wasn’t technically of Clinton. The designation was UNSUB. Still, the language and implications fed public perception.

The memo cited “documentation” from ICIG Charles McCullough, specifically his July 6 referral. But McCullough later clarified—it was never a criminal referral.

Despite this, the FBI framed the referral as the basis for its investigation. Not because the ICIG demanded it, but because Trumpland—the FBI—wanted it.

2️⃣ The July 21 Memo to Sally Yates

The FBI hand-delivered a memo to Deputy AG Sally Yates. It was one of three times they felt compelled to brief her. The memo again leaned on the McCullough referral—which, again, wasn’t criminal.

As Davis noted, this is where repetition becomes necessary. Like Goebbels said: repeat the lie enough and it becomes truth. And many still believe the false scaffolding of Emailgate.

Yet on June 24, DOJ quietly retracted its confirmation that Clinton was under investigation.

📚 Location 819

Senior officials had learned that McCullough hadn’t made a criminal referral, but rather a security referral.

Why didn’t DOJ then admit that a probe was underway?

Because it would violate the core principle of due process and presumption of innocence. DOJ policy prohibits confirming or denying investigations for this very reason.

A principle Comey would later dismiss with stunning flippancy.

His logic? The press was leaking—so why not make it official?

But the principle stands. To confirm a probe is to smear a citizen without trial. Comey’s disregard wasn’t just procedural—it was philosophical.

This wasn’t the first time. Recall the Martha Stewart case. She committed no underlying crime. Yet Comey prosecuted her anyway—for a “lie” that wasn’t clear-cut.

When Comey finds moral urgency, legal principles become optional.

3️⃣ The July 23 FBI Interview (302)

This interview confirmed that Clinton’s 30,000 emails were reviewed in two days—June 26–27.

That’s over two weeks before the FBI officially opened its investigation.

The interview occurred on July 23, 2015—which Davis calls the day Trump won the election.

These three documents—taken together—raise serious questions about the conduct of Comey, McCullough, and DOJ leadership. Questions that culminate in Comey’s October 28 letter to Congress.

🧨 The UNSUB Illusion

Let’s revisit July 10—the day the FBI officially opened the investigation.

Again, this wasn’t a direct investigation of Clinton. It was of unknown subjects. Based on a referral that McCullough himself later said was not criminal.

That memo came from “FBIHQ, Counterespionage Section”—meaning it likely passed across Comey’s desk.

Although Clinton’s name was redacted, the designation was unmistakable:

“Sensitive Investigative Matter due to a connection to a current public official, political appointee, or candidate…”

Here’s the memo’s synopsis:

“FBIHQ… is opening a full investigation based on specific articulated facts provided by an 811 referral from the ICIG…” 📚 Location 849–859

But Davis unpacks what 811 referrals actually mean. They don’t typically trigger criminal investigations. Often they’re routine notices—requests to assess whether unmarked documents should be retroactively classified.

As the Los Angeles Times noted:

“Such referrals are routine and often don’t lead to much.”

And McCullough—via a source—stated clearly: his submission was not a criminal referral.

📚 Location 879

🧮 Probable Cause… or the Lack Thereof

To launch a criminal probe, the FBI needed a concrete, “articulable” fact suggesting Clinton may have committed a crime.

Here’s what they offered:

“…a sample unclassified email that allegedly contains information at a classified and SCI level.”

But this email lacked classified markings. And that matters. Without such markings, there’s no proof Clinton knew the information was classified—and thus, no way to establish intent.

Intent is the legal linchpin. Without it, there’s no criminal liability.

The memo’s thin premise boiled down to: There might be something in these 30,000 emails. That’s not probable cause. That’s a fishing expedition.

This was the inverse of due process.

As the memo’s header bluntly declared:

“Potential Compromise of Classified Information.” 📚 Location 901

💬 McCullough’s Shifting Posture

McCullough’s role isn’t benign. He claims his referral wasn’t about classification judgment. He was “passing along” others’ views.

But Davis questions that. McCullough served under Louis Freeh, the anti-Clinton FBI Director infamous for forcing President Clinton to submit to a urine test at a gala.

McCullough submitted his memo to a Republican-led House Committee. He could hardly feign shock when it leaked.

State had every reason to doubt his neutrality.

“Had State allowed full participation,” McCullough speculated, “I might not have needed to send the referral.”

But the referral was sent. And the FBI acted on it. Even though it lacked a legal foundation.

In Davis’ words: Comey and Friends were going to open a criminal investigation by hook or by crook.

Even without a criminal predicate, they opened the probe on July 10, 2015, based on nothing but speculation.

🧨 Final Verdict

At its core, Emailgate was not a measured legal inquiry—it was a scandal constructed in reverse. Built on circular logic. Fueled by rhetorical sleight of hand.

It was, always, an indictment in search of a crime.

UPDATE:

🧩 Comparison Table: Full Chapter vs. Condensed Chapter

🎯 Verdict: What to Keep, What to Restore?

The condensed version is extremely effective as a scaffold or teaser—but it risks flattening nuance and losing your narrative’s emotional architecture.

What you might consider:

• Keep the short version as:
  • A chapter foreword or media synopsis
  • A blog post or op-ed adaptation
  • A bridging summary between chapters in your Kindlebook
• Use the 8,000-word version as the true heart of the chapter—then lightly edit for rhythm or clarity without sacrificing weight.

If you’d like, I can help create a clean Page-ready version of the full chapter, formatted and sectioned for Kindle readability. I can even drop in light inline headings like you’d find in nonfiction exposés (think Bad Blood, Chasing Hillary, or The Reckoning). Just say when.