The following article, The Patsy and the Brain-Dead President, was first published on The Black Sphere.
If you believe the headlines, Alexander Smirnov is just some rogue fabulist.
And he surreptitiously wandered out of an FBI informant file and imploded like a bad character in a Coen brothers flick. A man who, for reasons unknown, simply decided to make up a bribery scheme implicating Joe and Hunter Biden, only to later admit it was all fiction.
And just like that, the Biden family’s years-long bribery allegations were supposedly wiped away like a toddler’s chalk doodles on a sidewalk.
Well, I’m not buying it. I have a theory: Smirnov lied about lying. So he was paid to lie.
Saving Old Joe’s ass is the one thing Democrats needed to do, even if they were kicking him to the curb.
Smirnov the Sacrificial Lamb
Because here’s the real trick: the corruption allegations weren’t built on Smirnov. He was merely the last domino they lined up. And now they’re acting like knocking it over erased the entire structure.
It’s like catching a guy on video robbing a bank, then letting him walk because the security guard lied about the color of his getaway car. Smirnov’s “confession” didn’t vaporize the evidence—it just gave the media permission to pretend it never existed.
And the evidence is not subtle.
Over 150 Suspicious Activity Reports (SARs) flagged by banks across multiple continents. Dozens of Biden-controlled LLCs that shuffled money through a labyrinth designed to confuse regulators, reporters, and apparently, the entire Department of Justice. House Oversight traced millions in wires from Romania, China, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Russia flowing straight to Biden family accounts.
Even Biden’s grandchild got a wire. Nothing says “legitimate business” like paying kindergarteners.
So, no. The problem wasn’t lack of evidence; the problem was too much evidence.
So much that the only way to bury it was to torch the credibility of the person pointing at it. Enter Smirnov, stage left, with a pocket full of hush money and a sick relative somewhere quietly cashing the reward.
If you want to see the real tell, ask a simple question: Where did all that money go?
Because the Biden family has been Hoovering up foreign “consulting fees” for a decade, and yet—have you seen a single successful business emerge from this entrepreneurial dynasty? Not one. Not a bakery. Not a car wash. Not even a novelty T-shirt company selling “I Met Joe Biden and All I Got Was This Lousy Indictment” merch.
What you see instead is collapse.
Hunter Biden’s art career, for example, was never a career. It was a laundering service with paint splatters. He was briefly the toast of the art world—if by “art world” you mean businessmen who suddenly lost interest once Joe’s polling cratered. Today, you couldn’t move a Hunter original for $1,000 if you threw in a free set of steak knives and $1000.
That’s what happens when your product was never art—it was access. And when access vanishes, so does the market.
Joe Biden himself tried the traditional post-presidency cash grab and belly-flopped. Where Obama bagged a $60 million book advance, Joe’s deal limped in around $8 million—a fraction of the presidential going rate. No massive speaking tour. No Netflix deal. No billion-dollar foundation à la the Clintons. The man can barely fill a press gaggle, let alone a lecture hall.
That’s because Joe Biden was never the product. His influence was. And the moment he couldn’t deliver influence anymore, the market closed like the door on a nuclear bunker.
The Family Business of Selling Joe
What makes this whole saga almost funny—if you can overlook the international corruption—is how many Bidens got in on the act.
Bank records show payments landing in the accounts of at least nine Bidens, from Hunter to James to Hallie and, bizarrely, even a Biden grandchild. This wasn’t a family tree. It was a payroll chart.
And yet for all their “businesses,” not a single one survived contact with reality.
Rosemont Seneca? Gone. Lion Hall Group? Defunct. Hudson West? Vanished. Owasco PC? Dissolved. They spawned LLCs like rabbits and buried them like dead goldfish.
If even one of those entities had been a real business, someone would still be running it. Instead, they all evaporated the moment Joe’s usefulness waned. Which tells you what they really were: cash funnels. Hollow shells created not to make money, but to disguise it.
Meanwhile, the Biden defenders point to Smirnov’s “lies” like it’s an uno reverse card. “See? One witness lied! Therefore, none of this happened!”
That’s not how reality works. If ten people see a man rob a bank and one of them gets caught exaggerating about the size of the bag, you don’t release the robber. You arrest him. You just stop quoting the guy who thinks the bag was six feet tall.
The Quiet Panic
Here’s the unspoken part no one in the legacy press will touch: the Bidens are running out of runway.
They have no income streams left. No post-White House foundation. No lecture circuit. No consulting empire. Just a dying brand name that can’t even land a podcast sponsorship.
Joe’s presidential salary stopped the day he leaves office. With pensions from the Senate, as VP, and President he earn about $400K a year, minus taxes, and whatever chunk “the little guy” Hunter burns on hookers, crack, and dental veneers. When Joe dies, the gravy train completely stops. And there’s nothing left to replace it, because there never was anything but him.
Which makes Smirnov’s sudden fall from grace feel less like justice and more like choreography. Because when the walls close in, the first thing corrupt empires do is burn a patsy.
They needed someone to “confess” to making it all up so the media could declare the case closed. And if you squint, you can almost see the wire transfer to Smirnov’s cousin’s offshore account the moment he agreed to play ball.
The Great Unraveling
The tragedy (and comedy) of all this is that it’s ending not with a bang, but a whimper. The Biden empire isn’t being toppled by some righteous crusade or heroic investigation. It’s just…rotting. Collapsing under the weight of its own emptiness.
Influence empires always do. Because when your only product is power, and people stop believing you have it, they stop buying.
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