He Said He Was Glad Robert Mueller Died

My daddy taught me that when somebody dies, you find something decent to say or you keep your mouth shut. That’s not a political opinion. That’s just how civilized people move through the world.

Robert Mueller was eighty-one years old. Decorated Marine. Vietnam veteran. Served this country before most of us were born and kept serving it long after he had any reason to. Whatever you think about what his investigation found or didn’t find, the man gave his life to public service.

He died on a Thursday.

By Thursday afternoon, the president of the United States had posted on Truth Social — and I’m quoting, because I would not invent something this ugly — “Good, I’m glad he’s dead. He can no longer hurt innocent people!”

I’ve seen bad behavior in my time. I’ve cut people off. I’ve asked people to leave. But I have never once seen a grown man pump his fist over a dead eighty-one-year-old and think he looked like anything other than exactly what he is.

Same day, mind you, he was telling everybody the Iran war was winding down. While he was also bombing Natanz. While more troops were heading out.

I don’t know what word you use for that. Where I’m from we’d just say the man can’t keep his stories straight and he doesn’t much care who notices.

Mueller’s family buried somebody they loved. And this is what was waiting for them when they went to look at the news.

If that doesn’t bother you, I don’t know what to tell you. I really don’t.

I’ll leave the check on the table.