In the sad annals of Trump Derangement, perhaps the bizarre vengeance porn fantasies of New York magazine's Ankush Khardori stands alone in coming from a very very dark place. The typical sufferer of TDS might hope for the imprisonment of Donald Trump and leave it at that.
In the case of Khardori he went full mental jacket on Monday in that magazine's Intelligencer section with an over-3500-word diatribe dripping with Trump hate in which he fantasized in extreme detail what imprisonment for the President would look like as you can see in this unhinged missive "What Happens, Exactly, If Trump Is Sentenced to Prison?" [Image is also their imagination.]
Above Khardori's overlong rant disguised as an article is a fantasy picture of Trump's Bureau of Prisons identity card. Khardouri even has Trump's future prison picked out for him which he describes in excruciating detail. As you read these asylum worthy Khardori rants that follow you can almost hear echoes from one of the most famous of The Far Side cartoons screaming "Just Plain Nuts!"
The federal prison camp in Pensacola, Florida — an all-male minimum-security facility that currently holds about 500 convicts — is an eight-and-a-half-hour drive from Mar-a-Lago, not far from the border with Alabama. The complex contains 20 buildings, a track for jogging or walking, and designated recreational areas for inmates to play a variety of sports, including basketball, volleyball, soccer, and tennis. The prison has housed a variety of white-collar offenders, including former New York congressman Chris Collins (who was serving time for insider trading before being pardoned by Trump), and it is currently home to former reality-television star Todd Chrisley, who was sent there after being convicted of financial crimes.
But wait! Khardori is far from finished in his description of the Pensacola prison or FPC Pensacola as he informs us.
FPC Pensacola, as it is known, is a leading contender for the prison that would house Trump. The process of selecting a facility for a convicted felon usually begins in the Designation and Sentence Computations Center of the Bureau of Prisons in Grand Prairie, Texas, where a specialist reviews the incoming prisoner’s file in order to generate a score that correlates to different levels of security — ranging from minimum- to high-security facilities. The relevant inputs include the nature of the offenses in generic terms (in Trump’s case, fraud and obstruction), the defendant’s criminal record, as well as his age, education level, and history of violent behavior or drug and alcohol abuse. The BOP is supposed to place each inmate in a facility that is reasonably close to where he will be released; in Trump’s case, that would presumably be Mar-a-Lago, which Trump designated as his legal residence in 2019.
Naturally, all of this is just too good for Trump, who's somehow comparable to terrorists:
The idea of Trump serving time in a place like FPC Pensacola, with its open-air amenities and mild climate, might be disappointing to people who would prefer to see him in the sort of remote, high-security facility that houses terrorists, but it would be replete with indignities for the former president. Minimum-security prisons are still prisons. “You’re still not free to go wherever you want. You still have people telling you where to go, when to go, what have you,” Hurwitz told me. “You don’t have your freedom.”
But what if the courts sentence Trump to home confinement rather than the exact prison that Khardori envisioned? Not to worry! He has game planned that contingency down to the smallest detail including ankle bracelets at Mar-a-Lago.
The standard methods of federal home confinement involve an ankle bracelet on the convict, which alerts a probation officer if he leaves a designated area. The traditional ankle bracelet model tends to be “challenging” when the defendants “have large residences,” Chris Maloney, the former chief U.S. probation officer in the district of New Jersey and the district of Massachusetts, told me.
And now for a big surprise. Ankush Khardori is not only a contributing editor at New York magazine but is also a contributing writer for Politico which wants the public to believe it is a professional periodical about politics. This begs the question over whether Politico has at least minimal mental health vetting for its writers.
