Deep Throat

[Heath]

I'm sure everyone has heard that the infamous informant from Watergate is ill, and that Bob Woodward is going to release who the person is after he/she dies. I'm pretty interested because I'm writing a report on Watergate right now for English.

Anyone else care?

[iha]

not really, i wont know who he is anyway

but i'll hope for his death for your sake

[spinnin'dervish]

which is more wierd someone being a historical figure but no one knwoing who they are, OR you two waiting for someones death just to write an essay?

[B]

shit, i thought this was the pr0n thread... wrong forum though.

:ontome:

[DeadOhioSky]

im pretty interested. im also waiting till the jfk reports are de-classified, so we can find out who shoot him.

[Heath]

I was writing the research paper before this was announced, I'm just interested because I know a lot more about Watergate than I did before.

And I'm also waiting for the JFK thing. It definitely wasn't Oswald. I'd go with either the CIA, FBI, or some plot from LBJ.

[iha]

which is more wierd someone being a historical figure but no one knwoing who they are, OR you two waiting for someones death just to write an essay?
i was being sarcastic :down:

[Parabola7001]

shit, i thought this was the pr0n thread... wrong forum though.

:ontome:
same here

[B]

what a let down. :shame:

[Heath]

Sorry I let you guys down.

But there was an old porn film called Deep Throat.

[B]

post pics.

[Heath]

I don't have it. The plotline was about a girl who couldn't "function" until a doctor found her "stimulatory spot" in her throat though.

[Parabola7001]

I don't have it. The plotline was about a girl who couldn't "function" until a doctor found her "stimulatory spot" in her throat though.
nice :tongue2:

[B]

its called the "gag reflex" :hitit:

[Parabola7001]

nice! where can i see it

[Capt]

its kind of sad the direction journalism has taken since the nixon watergate debacle

[Parabola7001]

its kind of sad the direction journalism has taken since the nixon watergate debacle
very true. i had to do a paper on it last year

[Capt]

i wrote a research paper about the sociological impact of rock music

[Parabola7001]

i wrote a research paper about the sociological impact of rock music
really? what was the main focus of the paper

[Capt]

i don't really remember, what i do remember is that it was worth 10% of my final mark.. and that i got 100% on it

i'm gonna go find it and read it

i'll get back to you on that one

[Heath]

I am almost halfway done with my research paper, and I'm not sure how I'm going to do on it. Most of my citations are from memory of the book, which could be bad. I'll probably end up making around 85 on it, but for my English teacher that isn't bad at all.

I'm really anxious to see who Deep Throat is though.

[Capt]

Keep on Rocking for a Free World





















Capt
English 20
January 5, 2004
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace” (James Marshall Hendrix). Jimi Hendrix, as other musicians dedicated part of his career to raising the awareness of the public about the social issues of his time. Artists akin to Hendrix also did a lot to directly inspire social transformation, such as benefit concerts and charitable donations. When examining the extent to which artists effectively altered society, one must answer the following questions: What is the sociological significance of rock music? What important social changes have musicians directly contributed too? What have musicians done to raise common awareness of vital social issues? When these questions are answered, one can draw the conclusion that musicians can both directly and indirectly influence society’s conscience, while playing a role in motivating social change. Musicians played a role in breaking racial barriers in the years before the Civil Rights Movement, and have contributed money to charitable organizations as a conscious effort to better society, as well as provided immeasurable inspiration for social change.

One musician who made a contribution to society is Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan is regarded as a very important figure in contemporary folk and rock music. His song “The Times The Are A Changin’” was closely associated with the Civil Rights Movement, and awoke white listeners to the plight of the black minority, and their inevitable victory in the Movement. Dylan’s song “Blowin’ In The Wind” asked listeners “how many deaths will it take before [a man] knows/ That too many people have died?.” The line suggested that people stop conflict and war and realize the amount of lives it costs them; the song asserts, “The answer is blowin’ in the wind”. The line “the answer is blowin’ in the wind” sends a powerful message; “Poetry, as [the Bob Dylan song] shows, may be serving as a weapon worse than anthrax” speculated President George Bush when asked about the lines significance (Anoe Niemus, Personal Interview with President George Bush, 2002). With such a strong message conveyed by a single line of poetry, it is clear that Bob Dylan’s music played a large role in raising social awareness of the issues of his time. Dylan was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame in 1988, and won an Academy Award for his song “Things Have Changed” in 2001 (Dylan, Bob, Microsoft Encarta Online Encyclopedia 2004). Later in his life, Bob Dylan received the Kennedy Center Honors Award for lifetime achievement in the performing arts, as well as several Grammy awards for his albums. Dylan, a folk rock mogul, clearly contributed a vast amount of social inspiration from his songs.

Another recording artist who has incited social change is Neil Young. He has contributed to society throughout his life, with both songs of social protest and philanthropy. In his early career, Young, along with his band at the time, Buffalo Springfield, wrote a song objecting to the war in Vietnam entitled “For What It’s Worth”. The song urged “Everybody [to] look what’s going down,” and that “Nobody’s right, if everybody’s wrong.” (“For What It’s Worth” lyrics, Buffalo Springfield). Musicians at the time were openly vocal against the war, and had a following of people who agreed with them. Songs similar to “For What It’s Worth” gained popularity and expressed views that stimulated people to think about when war is justified. Neil Young’s career also had a great deal of attempts to directly change the world, with the Bridge School benefit concerts, that have been raising funds for the Hillsborough, California facility’s programs for children with speech and physical impairments since 1986 (Rolling Stone, “Neil Young Will Deliver Bridge Benefit CD”). The 2 day concerts raise more than half a million dollars each year for the foundation (Rolling Stone, “Neil Young Will Deliver Bridge Benefit CD”), Neil Young also raised additional funds by selling the live recordings from the concert on his record label Reprise. Neil Young also released a song inspired by passengers of United Airlines Flight 93 on September 11th. Todd Beamer used an airline phone to contact a GTE Airphone operator to explain the passengers plan to overpower the terrorists and divert the planes path, which may have been aimed at a federal building in Washington D.C. The last words heard from Beamer were “let’s roll,” and that is the title of the Neil Young tribute to the heroic passengers on the plane that crashed into a Pennsylvania field minutes after the conversation. Neil Young also made a personal donation to the Beamer family fund. All of Young’s efforts to improve society through inspirational music and generous charity show how musicians can inspire and stimulate social change.

One way musicians have indirectly motivated a massive shift in public opinion was during the late 1940s and 1950s. According to David Chappell, a historian at the University of Arkansas, as black and white musicians began to perform together; it created a widely tolerant view of African Americans in a racial society (“Musicians set the stage for civil rights, says UA historian”, David Chappell). The increasing tolerance in the American society ate away the confidence of those who believed in supremacy and segregation, and “by the time the political struggle heated up, those who believed most strongly in the importance of white supremacy already saw it as a lost cause” says Chappell (“Musicians set the stage for civil rights, says UA historian”, David Chappell). There was also a broad exchange of musical styles between black and white performers, which revealed an appreciation of black culture that was openly acknowledged by both black and white audiences (“Musicians set the stage for civil rights, says UA historian”, David Chappell). Curtis Mayfield was an African American songwriter and performer who infused his music with lyrics that urged people to participate in the Civil Rights movement, and have courage and hope in the struggle (Author not available, “Who Combined Social Conscience with Rhythm and Blues”). Curtis Mayfield inspired black pride with his songs, “I’m So Proud” and “We People Who Are Darker Than Blue”, using his music to spread his messages of optimism, justice and faith (Author not available, “Who Combined Social Conscience with Rhythm and Blues”). Musicians in the early 1950’s disregarded race and pilfered the sounds of their counterparts, to form new musical styles enjoyed by people of races and ages. Artists like Benny Goodman, Johnny Ray, Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley popularized African American musical forms such as Rhythm and Blues, Jump Blues and Gospel Music (“Musicians set the stage for civil rights, says UA historian”, David Chappell). The social attitude for the Civil Rights Movement was rooted with recording artists creating new sounds of racial harmony, which rang in the ears of white supremacists.

The sociological significance of rock music helps define what impact it has had on society. Rock music developed from the fringes into a multi-billion-dollar global industry, and rock music and musicians have helped to establish new attitudes and political views (Sociological Significance, Microsoft Encarta). Defined by generous philanthropy and tension between individuality and commercialism, rock music has helped in the shaping of social attitudes. Musician and amateur artist John Melloncamp helped found Farm Aid, a non-profit organization designed to help the disappearing family farms by holding benefit concerts. Melloncamp also used the Farm Aid concert to voice his opinion about the current Washington Administration in his controversial song “To Washington”. John Melloncamp and his wife wrote an open letter expressing their political views; powerfully denounce the Bush administration for their actions in Iraq. He stated, “All [Americans] gained [from the war in Iraq] was relentless media coverage of a fallen statue and some stolen oil fields […] Not to mention lucrative corporate payoffs and an enormous price tag of $80 billion” (“An Open Letter From John & Elaine Melloncamp”). He also when on to say that America “has suffered the loss of respect within the world community,” and that people who call him unpatriotic for saying so are wrong because “it is not just [their] ‘right’ but also [their] duty to speak out and voice [your] thoughts and opinions” (“An Open Letter From John & Elaine Melloncamp”). John’s published political views are an effort to raise awareness about people’s rights to speak out against their government, and realize that it is “[paradoxical] some still resist the open mindedness that is the very foundation of [The United States]” (“An Open Letter From John & Elaine Melloncamp”). Another effect that rock music has had in addition to publicizing alternate views is inspiring people to work towards a better world. Amnesty International created a program called “Ten on the Tenth”, to “provide people and students with a motivating and inspiring context in which to explore issues of human rights and social justice” (“Ten on the Tenth”, Amnesty International). The program was “inspired by John Lennon’s classic song of hope, Imagine,” whose lyrics advocate that if people work together, “the world will be as one” (“Imagine” lyrics by John Lennon). The programs created and inspired by musicians help to prove the sociological benefit recording artists have had on society.

Musicians over the years have contributed a great deal to the awareness of the public on the subject of social issues of their time. Rock music provided recording artists with an unconventional means of expressing their views, and has left society with a group of philanthropic musicians. Although inspiration cannot be measured, it is clear that musicians awaken audiences to injustices and inspiring hope and courage. Many have contributed a great deal to charitable organizations, even creating some of their own. “After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.” (Aldous Huxley, “The Doors of Perception”)

Works Cited

Author not available “Dylan, Bob” Microsoft Encarta 2003

Author not available “Neil Young Will Deliver Bridge Benefit CD” Rolling Stone

Author not available “Rock Music: Sociological significance” Microsoft Encarta 2003
Author not available “Ten on the Tenth” Amnesty International

Author not available “Who Combined Social Conscience With Rhythm & Blues” Africana.com 2003

Chappell, David “Musicians Set The Stage For Civil Rights, Says UA Historian” University of Arkansas 11/01/01

Dylan, Bob “Blowin’ In The Wind” Lyrics by Bob Dylan 1962

Lennon, John “Imagine” Lyrics by John Lennon 1971

Melloncamp, John and Elaine “An Open Letter From John And Elaine Melloncamp” 10/22/2003

Mitchell, Russ “John Melloncamp: Life & Music” CBS Broadcasting INC. 09/21/2003

Neimus, Anoe “George W. Bush on “Blowin’ in the Wind” Personal Interview 2002

Sacramento, Christina “Neil Young Releases 9/11 Song” Rolling Stone 6/12/01

Sandow, Greg “Young, Neil” Microsoft Encarta 2004

Stills, Stephen “For What Its Worth” performed by Buffalo Springfield




i'm so on topic

[Heath]

I can see why you made such a good grade on that paper. Very good.

[Capt]

i hate using MLA reference format

thanks :loon:

[Heath]

The thing that's really gonna screw me is the page numbers of all my information. That's what I didn't note very well, and I'm doing by memory/guestimation.

[Capt]

we had to hand in all of our sources of information to be marked before we even started writing the paper

[dionysusolympus]

Deep Throat = Jenna Jameson. :what:

[Heath]

I just finished my paper bitches.

[Pun'KinG']

i hate using MLA reference format

thanks :loon:

The APA format is no picnic either.

Although it does look rather fetching spread out on a red and white checkered tablecloth amidst a lush meadow under a sprawling oak tree. :loon:

[Capt]

The APA format is no picnic either.

Although it does look rather fetching spread out on a red and white checkered tablecloth amidst a lush meadow under a sprawling oak tree. :loon:
why can't we just use indexing... so much simpler

[dionysusolympus]

I just finished my paper bitches.

did they taste good? :barney:

[iha]

Capt I started to read your paper.. and the 2nd sentence says:

"Jimi Hendrix, as other musicians dedicated part of his career to raising the awareness of the public about the social issues of his time."

Is there a mistake in there, or am I just tired? To me it seems like it shoudl be:

"Jimi Hendrix, as well as other musicians, dedicated part of his career to raising the awareness of the the public about the social issues of his time.

[iha]

I just finished my paper bitches.

I had a paper due yesterday at midnight. It was a bitch.. b/c it was on a very stupid topic

[Heath]

How do you turn in a paper at midnight?

And yes, Capt had an error in that sentence.

[iha]

How do you turn in a paper at midnight?

And yes, Capt had an error in that sentence.

email it to the professor before midnight.

that's how most of my papers in college are due.

[Heath]

Oh okay. Makes sense.

[EtchedInCold]

did this thread turn into the "help other people with their work" thread?

[Tzarina]

I heard that Woodward, or Bernstein, whichever... said that when deep throat died they would reveal who it was... Since they have not revealed it, I am going to guess that no one has happened on the correct person, since most of these suspects are dead... :shrug:

[Mufumonk]

Deep Throat = Hunter S. Thompson

"In three decades of speculation about the identity of legendary Watergate source 'Deep Throat,' few prominent members of the Nixon administration swept up in the scandal have endorsed a likely suspect. Even John Dean has hedged and offered multiple guesses. But now E&P has learned that former top Nixon aide, John Ehrlichman, who went to prison for his role in Watergate, felt strongly that he knew the identity of Deep Throat.

His candidate: Henry Kissinger.

This revelation comes from Walter Anderson, the chairman and CEO of Parade magazine and a close friend of the former Nixon aide, who died in 1999. Ehrlichman, Anderson said, identified Kissinger as Deep Throat in a conversation with him more than 20 years ago.

'He was absolutely convinced of it,' Anderson said, when asked by E&P to comment on the recent surge in speculation about the identity of Deep Throat. He added that Ehrlichman's view of Kissinger as Deep Throat has never surfaced before, as far he knows.

'Ehrlichman argued that Kissinger was high enough in the organization to have the information, and understand it, close enough to Nixon to know all the details,' Anderson said, 'and he was virtually untarnished by the Watergate scandal, particularly in the press.'"
-journalist Greg Mitchell, Editor & Publisher, February 16, 2005


and now, ladies and gentlemen, Hunter S. Thompson:

Well...sh1t. But it is worth noting that Kissinger, the stench trap I will smell for all eternity, doomed or no, is not the person you seek. No...Kissinger is a mere stock genius among swine and we are guaranteed to suffer these jackals again so long as vice and cruelty and their witless apostles trample and piss the Earth, and none of their stripe would (or will) ever rat nor fink on a crook like Nixon--and, I'll add, in the long haul Kissinger will look like the five-cent Satan ride before the doors to the big party came squealing open. Selah. I leave you to posterity.

But before we get to my posterity, as it were, I'd like to say that it is a very strange feeling to be a Dead American writer in this fresh century, looking at all this gibberish of mine that seems to belong so much to the last. Even Kissinger seems to belong to that Gone Century now--the stink is foul but quaint. There is a closing world up ahead without very much glimmer of me in it, either; I had hoped at least to leave a pining green light at the end of a distant dock. Right now I am staring at a fat red light on the wing of an iced-over 747, trapped in the Denver International Airport, and when I tire of musing on this last souvenir of Life on Earth I am still Free, as it were, to take in those big white barn tits DIA calls a roof, heaving-ho into the yonder. This, I suppose, is Death...(exactly as you had imagined it).

Before we get to Throat I will also mention that there is some kind of heavy connection between the keys on this machine and the words themselves--the high white sound is all in the speed-lashing, the banging, all things being wretched and alive, and I frankly don't give a **** about that these days. I've grappled with these elegant mechanical beasts for the last time. I tend, more and more, to just sit back and think the words I need...so if you are reading this...then on with the gameplan...

And this is a grim thing to think: I feel now my words are essentially complete. They've run off without me somewhere and don't want me ghosting around the exits anymore. I know in my heart the maniacal little fixers only ever wanted to scrape me open and screw the gristle into ever more freaky shapes, all for the sake of the Work. Who can argue with a battle-plan like that? My words, after all, are Americans too--balls-out, vicious careerists to the foul bleating core. They wanted to Succeed so bad they whacked me to get us all on the cover of the New York Times (AP says Las Vegas is number 15 on Amazon.com this week and Vintage Books has a "significant" reprinting in the works...Ah, then Hallelujah! To Be an American Writer!) I suspect that Horatio Alger's words must have gotten to mine. Alger always knew how to sell and Americans can't resist a salesmen come to sell them themselves, especially when it's a baby****er, of the Super Eagle Scout Variety. An honest thief will never do.

Lord! I tried, O Lord, to teach them better, like Jesus says: they are not of this World, just as I am not of this World. But I'm out (once this plane takes off--they tell me we are waiting on Gidget) and they're in for good, a fixed final part of the world that will never howl against it in rhythm with the newer, fouler plunders the Hearts of Evil have in store. I should have armed them somehow. I never thought it would be necessary...there was a time when it seemed rage would break like hard winter lightning over the mountains and a scouring rain would crack open the sky, to ruin the Minds of Fear, dissolve all the kin shrines of the rich and send them coursing like rivers into the flatlands...It was not hard to believe these things then, if you were young with eyes like two big fury wheels and a mind blown in all directions on the American Dream.


France was a land, England was a people, but America, still having about it that quality of the idea, was harder to utter--it was the graves at Shiloh and the tired, drawn, nervous faces of its great men, and the country boys dying in the Argonne for a phrase that was empty before their bodies withered. It was a willingness of the heart.
-F. Scott Fitzgerald


Indeed. And it's that Quality of the Idea that will do us all in one day, and already has... Bush needs only to cackle "Freedom" and textbooks fly open coast-to-coast inside our wicked,
gutless minds, right back to the page where George Washington frees the slaves and hustles them across the Potomac in a Thanksgiving gravy boat built by B. Ross, from a cherry tree. They get you with the Idea, and the Idea (like Journalism, as Oscar Wilde once said), reigns forever and ever...and woe betide the doomed fool who dares get in its way. Nixon was a fiend, a dupe and an evil swindler, but Reagan was the Idea--even I could never hate Reagan right, because he had been a sportswriter...and for all his savage and howling buggery he gave the people what they wanted most of all--more than Life, Liberty, or the pursuit of Happiness, or whatever it was Tip O'Neill thought they wanted...no, Reagan, like Alger, knew that Americans will endorse any obscenity if it comes cloaked in a vision of themselves as they have never been. We are a nation of Gatsbys desperate to relive the past...only Gatsby actually ****ed Miss Daisy a time or two, while Norman Rockwell was never anything more than a collective fever dream. No one loves Rockwell/Reagan's Shining City on a Hill more than the hate mongers and lynchers among us, those who clamor for death and weep with wonder as they suckle blood from the petrified tit of Innocent America. We are myth-mad, homesick vampires. And our heart's grown brutal from the fare.

Bush, of course, has none of Reagan's magnetic hokum...but he has Fear, and Fear needs the Idea to live. Backed against the wall a Good American (first cousin to the "Good German") will see Glory Stars and Sobbing Eagles popping like fizgigs on the air where any normal person--a Spaniard or a Bolivian, say--would see a firing squad...and Bush knows this, lives this, feasts on it. His America is Reagan's America without the phony hope...all cowering, all cringing, all bleating madness with only the Flag to protect us from the outside, menacing world. There is something of the Beast in the way his eyes glow with a dull light, as if the man has a Greyhound terminal inside him--then, as the subject turns to War...Torture...Murder...Terror...he leans forward and the eyes shock alive into twisted, ferocious glee. Bush's Dream is a ****ing slit trench of a world and it is already halfway realized. But it could not happen without the Idea, the Dream that gets to us all so early. It is no easy thing to live in a country founded on a concept; because the concept was never realized, the nation is at the mercy of anyone who can hoist aloft an effigy...and what foul dust floats in the wake of our Dream? Iraq? Syria? Iran? We are junkies. There is no crime we will not consider to get a fix.

Cazart! I began writing all this with a point, I'm sure--something about Pat Buchanan and the Capitol Hill Hotel. But now we are ascending and I've got a plastic cup of the finest finger of Royal Salute $450 can buy. Below is Denver, dimming away, and the dark atlas of the plains, and somewhere is Lisl Auman in a cage for life for no reason but human stupidity...and who knows how many others, all the way back through history, rolling out in all directions across the dark republic in the night...

[Mufumonk]

(cont.)

Take one last look at the prison yard,
goodbye Prison Grove
Shine on all these broken lives, shine on
shine the light on me.
-Warren Zevon


In prison, those things withheld from and denied to the prisoner become precisely what he wants most of all.-Eldridge Cleaver


The flood is coming, I'm telling you.-Deep Throat


As far as I know, Nixon never learned the identity of Deep Throat: at least there is nothing about it in this fine, sleek in-flight magazine they've brought around with the cigarettes and pillows. It's an over-saturated, perfume-brittle Condé Nast affair and as queer a piece of lit as any I've seen, clocking 900 pages and reading something like a cross between Soaps in Depth and The Big Book of Mormon Genealogy. Here we have Dead Alumni cross-listed by Nation, Century, Manner of Death, Hobbies, and Career...and a Feature on Bob Hope called "Toilet Trading Beyond the Mortal Coil." The most common career, as it were, seems to be "Whore" (though Nixon, robbed again, didn't make that list). Vince Lombardi is currently said to be busy with "rough wooings by mean-minded mechanical arms on loan from General Motors," though previously he was "naked and knee-deep in angry voles." They have already inked out a place for the Pope under the heading "Vicious Polaks" and a feature-peek into his future daily doings, returned to Earth, as a box of Trojan Enz. I am cross-listed under Hobbies: Peacocks alongside American Writer Flannery O'Connor and Hobbies: Football with Richard Milhous Nixon, 37th President of the United States, a fellow fan of Grantland Rice, a Quaker, and a jabbering, pig****ing crook--Nixon currently resides at Number One Observatory Circle as the pacemaker that is keeping Dick Cheney alive.

What?

Bull****!

What about Eternal Damnation?

Well...what do I know about a thing like that? I have already suffered hell with that trench-faced maniac, and I am a better man for it. It was enough to see his presidency come splitting apart stitch-by-crooked stitch as he paced the beach at San Clemente, moaning and brooding on life's simultaneous screws...and yes, to have had a part in it, too. I almost killed the mother****er in Manchester, New Hampshire, leaning over the fuel tank of his jet with a king-size Marlboro butt burning out of the side of my mouth--and who knows what manner of weird paradise might have flowered on the Earth if I had killed Richard Nixon in '68? Was Nixon merely a symptom? Would setting him off like a ten-ton water buffalo even begin to squelch the rot? We would not have experienced Watergate...and at the time, Watergate was a glorious thing to see; I believed, at one point, that Nixon would stand trial, not just for his cover-up but for his very existence as a political monster--because by that time there were no questions left to ask but how he ever became the president at all...So the real defendant of that trial would have been the American Political Machine itself, visible at last. Just as Nuremberg forced Germany to confront Volksgemeinschaft as nothing more than the obsequious smile of a corpse, the Trial of Richard M. Nixon would have exposed all the swine...sucking fat and afterings from their fingers at the devoured heart of the American Dream...

Ho ho. So now you see why I did what I did. It was not a hot blast of Nixon-hatred that blew me to Washington, but Divine Afflatus Itself...my beat was the Death of the American Dream and seeing the whole jabbering whorehouse come down was to be a fine work of Art, far beyond Jay Gatz and his sundered longing at the edge of Long Island Sound. I can admit now, I guess, that Gatsby once gonged in my head night and day and I lashed away thousands of letters to publishers and Famous American Writers Everywhere declaring myself the ****ing Coming of the New Star-Spanked Christ Child of Doomed American Prose, at the ready to write the next Gatsby...as soon as they sent me cash. Jesus! It was all some maniac fury to make the whole doomsday mess clear, and fast...so people could see, as it were, "what was on the end of every fork."

I see that our friends at Condé Nast make no mention of this. Under my name the word "drugs" appears 14 times and we score the trifecta of "hippies," "counterculture," and "Doonesbury," all in one foul sentence. Who are these thugs? Does the Columbia Journalism Review know about this? Is that little bastard Marty Beckerman writing for the kingdom-come trades now? I was almost the Governor of Samoa! Good God! Jimmy Carter offered to drop out of the '76 presidential race for me! And again...what manner of weirdness would wander the Earth if I had run in '76 and Jimmy hadn't? Strange to think...If Reagan had won that year he likely would have smashed up against the same ugly rock as Carter, and maybe the wreckage would have befouled the Goldwater Revolution for good...

Jesus, here's a revolting thought: am I responsible for Bush?

Or is the whole ****rain of history just the Fates at Play?


Baseball is great because anything can happen through the ninth inning.
-Richard Nixon addressing a White House reception of the players in the 1969 Baseball All-Star Game, July 22, 1969


Indeed...and just a week before the Watergate break-in Nixon was whistling a tune in the Oval Office, busy at work with David Eisenhower on a list of the greatest baseball players of all time...which he then had printed as a gold-embossed tract and shelved alongside his famous Enemies List (and the lesser-known List of the Ugliest Women in Key Biscayne). I had a sort of relationship with Nixon for many years, and his love of sports was as high-humping crazy as my own. I have always maintained that I enjoyed our ride together one midnight in New Hampshire in 1968; Pat Buchanan and Ray Price were sitting up front and it was just me and the Dingbat at the hindmost, talking football--it was, indeed, "probably one of the weirdest things I've ever done."...But the pilot has just announced that we're 30 miles outside of our Destination...so is time now to admit that Dick and I never spoke about football that night: we talked about whores.

I was feeling a little paranoid and Nixon only exacerbated my gloom by waiting at least five minutes to speak. He was sweating so much I could smell the South Pacific on his collar.

"Hookers, Thompson," he said finally.

What? Good God! The bastard had lured me into some kind of brutal mano-a-mano McCarthy hearing! He was going to run down a list of treasons and then torch me and dump me in the woods! Terror fused my brain. I fumbled at the door handle. No! I thought. ****ing Christ!

"I'm under the impression you might know a little about that."

Jesus! What? It all made sense now: they'd seen my Levis and my ski jacket and singled me out as the kind of person who could summon hookers at all hours. "You crazy son of a *****!" I answered. "Get your own goddamn hookers!"

Nixon laughed. "We're interested in a group of hookers connected to the DNC."

Indeed. And this is where Watergate began: a staffer at the DNC had been arranging slam-ups between Democratic kingpins and a parlor of whores operating out of the Columbia Plaza apartments. Even in 1968 Nixon was onto it, and he asked me for whatever information I had...which was nothing until I visited the Columbia Plaza a few weeks later with Buchanan, a group of visiting friends of Plimpton's from The Paris Review, a porcelain frog full of cocaine, two bags of grass, and sixty pellets of mescaline...And late into that godawful night, after over three hours of wrestling Buchanan off the ledge and into the bathtub, one of the girls came kabooming out of her room with eyes like Atomic Fireballs--she had the Fear so bad that her dentures hit the floor and I could see all four of her candy-flossed teeth bobbing on her gums...she was wailing about a pimp with corkscrew toenails and "a beard like God," who wore Kleenex tissues on his hands...

"And Mormons!" she shrieked. "He has Mormons! His ****ing Mormons will get me with needles to kill the germs!"

"Howard Hughes?" I asked.

Ye Gods! Hughes was the dough behind the whole operation...and after Bobby Kennedy died Hughes snatched up one Lawrence O'Brien, gnat in the eye of Richard Nixon and future subject of a bungled burglary at the Watergate Hotel, to be his lobbyist and Grand Pimp of Columbia Plaza...meanwhile Hughes was busy greasing the other side, kiting mastodon-sized checks off to Nixon's sidecar Bebe Rebozo in Florida...and in return Nixon offered a monopoly on Las Vegas casinos to Hughes, scoffing off any whispers of "antitrust"...but Nixon was so crooked he narced even on himself, and for security he sent Plumbers out to fix O'Brien's phones (or as H.R. Haldeman said: "On matters pertaining to Hughes, Nixon sometimes seemed to lose touch with reality. His indirect association with this mystery man may have caused him, in his view, to lose two elections.")...Hughes was both funding the DNC and funding the slush CREEP used to weasel it...meanwhile pimp Phillip Bailley, of the Columbia Plaza Bailleys, was arrested for sexual pandering...and John Dean called the special prosecutor up for a debriefing and a look at Bailley's address books...

And who is in the address books? Besides the hookers?

Why, Mo Biner--John Dean's dearly betrothed.

Ah...but we will be landing soon...Do the details really matter? They were all thieves and evil swine. And I'm having a hard time remembering the specifics...they seem to be blearing and whipping away from me now. Outside the light on the wing is green and smearing out like weird honey on the bunching clouds that tremble and sing below, and I can just make out bright bits of Earth bathed in batches by the green...this is where my words are headed now at the speed of death, back to my crippled country...

And before I go I must say that it is no small thing to have a king like Muhammad Ali alive and hungry on the Earth in your lifetime. I have been thinking, these last few days, of Ali most of all...I don't know the exact mechanics by which a smash-up with a bullet ****s up your memory, but when I try now to see America I first see Ali. He was a souvenir of some other world, of This Nation Before the Fall...there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life...and they wanted to ****ing lock him up in the name of America.

America! Lord! I won't miss it for what it was: a ****ing snakehouse where the crooks snatched up all the Beauty and garotted its aching joyful Throat before the song ever began. But I think I will miss what it was meant to be...

I tried to make it so. Watergate was my try. They will tell you it was Mark Felt, but they've never been anything but a pack of shiv-fisted liars anyway. I was Deep Throat, and Watergate was my Great Work. It is a testament to the pains and exactitude of Art that I only told Woodward the believable parts...Buchanan barely knew the extent of the thing, because Pat is fine and straight and the straight never know what's really happening. Not in Washington...Not in America. It takes a madman to burrow all the way down into its seedy heart.


My way of joking is to tell the truth. That's the funniest joke in the world.
-Muhammad Ali


-Hunter the Headless Thompson Gunner
(HST #3)

[EtchedInCold]

can you please summarize?
and in words i can understand.

[Tzarina]

Take one last look at the prison yard,
goodbye Prison Grove
Shine on all these broken lives, shine on
shine the light on me.
-Warren Zevon



:shocked:
I always kinda wondered if it was Kissenger though, and hell that was one big read there Mufu :greenwink

[Capt]

interesting