I got up and closed the office door, with as much dignity as I could manage.
N: You don't have to do that. They can't see me.
Me: I suspected as much. But what will they think if they hear me talking to you?
N: [laughs] They already think you're nuts.
Me: Well, let's not make it any worse. Why am I a fucking idiot? I mean, in what way am I a fucking idiot?
N: I know what you mean. You're a fucking idiot because, you know, I read your posts on that stupid blog of yours.
Me: Well, I'm glad somebody does.
N: You keep saying that these so-called New Democrats are trying to imitate Republicans.
Me: They're not?
N: No, idiot, you don't get it. They've made us what we are.
Me: Oh come on.
N: [glowers wordlessly]
Me: Sir.
N: That's better. Look, you remember that moron Ford, right? My one-time Vice President?
Me: Of course.
N: Well, then you realize that anybody could have beaten him in '76. Hell, McGovern could have beaten him in '76.
Me: He was not what you would call a strong candidate.
N: Okay. So. That being the case, why did the Democrats, the supposedly oh-so-liberal party, run a so-called centrist -- and you know what that means --
Me: Do I ever.
N: -- a so-called centrist like Carter? They weren't exactly running scared, you know.
Me: Tell me.
N: They couldn't wait to ditch all that liberal shit, shut those fools up in a padded cell. All those hippies and bra-burners and guys in dashikis, they all swarmed into the Democratic party as soon as I took over in '69 and the Democrats could pretend they weren't responsible for Vietnam. Vietnam? Where's that? [He assumes a frightening expression of feigned innocence.]
Me: The monkey was off their back and on yours.
N: Ain't that the truth. Anyway, the old Democrat honchos, they wanted to lock up all this youth demographic, as they called it -- phonies! -- but they sure as hell didn't want 'em to have any influence. Same with the ni-- uh, the blacks. Get 'em in the tent, lock 'em up, but don't give 'em bupkis.
Me: Bupkis?
N: That's a German expression. Ol' Karl uses it all the time. I told you Marx and I are great pals now, didn't I?
Me: You did. But -- McGovern? Oh, we already talked about this. You thought McGovern was, like, a human sacrifice. They knew you were unbeatable in '72, so they threw ol' George in, and he lost of course, and that discredited the Left, such as it was...
N: [interrupts] Which was what the old Party guys wanted all along. Now don't get me wrong. I don't want to sound like a conspiracy theorist or something...
Me: [straight-faced] Of course not.
N: [ignores interruption] I mean, I don't think they had it all planned out, they just thought, what the hell, we're not winning this one, let the hippies go bust their balls. Then in '76 we'll see. So then comes '76, and it's electable, electable, electable, hardhats, middle Americans, bla bla bla, all stolen from me of course. See, now that the Party has a chance, you can be damn sure they don't want some hippy-dip like McGovern in there, they want a good ol' boy who'll help get the country back to business as usual. And I do mean business. [He ruminates for a few seconds] I mean, man, they had us on the ropes that year. If they'd wanted to run Stokeley Carmichael and Jane Fonda they could've. But no, they wanted to put the old party, the pre-Sixties party...
Me: [mutters] The pre-Roosevelt party.
N: [laughs] You're not far wrong there. They wanted to put the old party back together on the old basis, with a few captive blacks and liberals just to make up the weight. And the business guys wanted to get back in the saddle -- they got a fright back in the Sixties, y'know, which I took advantage of -- and all the Israel fanatics had woken up and realized when people get all anti-imperialist, as thy say, then they start putting the hairy eyeball on precious Israel. So all these guys right there in the Democratic party really wanted to roll back the Sixties, and we were the excuse. So they moved the field way right with Carter.
Me: Okay. But how did that force you to do anything? You guys, I mean, the Republican party?
N: [Looks at me disgustedly] It's a question of branding, dummy.
Me: Oh, like, you're the right-wing brand, and they're encroaching on your turf...
N: ... And what are we gonna do? Leapfrog 'em and go for acid, abortion and amnesty? No, they start sweet-talkin' our pissed-off white guys, well then we've gotta come up with a better story, or lose 'em. So we find a way to get 'em even more pissed off, and promise to put all the queers in concentration camps, or tattoo the Ten Commandments on everybody's back, or some shit. Stupid. So stupid. It's embarrassing. I was a fucking statesman, for Chrissake, and now all these pulpit monkeys are running my party... I tell ya, I can't look fuckin' Disraeli in the eye when I meet him.
[A bottle of single-malt Scotch, with a twenty-syllable Gaelic name on the label, materializes at his elbow, resting on a rather froufrou little Chippendale side table, obviously of Pat's choosing. There's also a large tumbler, which, conveniently, is already full. Nixon absent-mindedly takes a man-size swig.]
N: [continues] And it's all the Democrats' fault. They made us do it. When they turned it into a one-note contest for the pissed-off white guys, well, there's only one place that can go.
Me: [eyeing the whisky] Gimme a hit of that, willya? [I produce a china mug from my desk, with the logo of a long-out-of-business modem manufacturer on it. Nixon pours, and to my surprise there's real whisky in the mug, and damn, does it taste good].
N: And Clinton pulled the same stunt. Carter was like John the Baptist to Reagan, and Clinton was like John the Baptist to this other damn fool that's in there now. Clinton and Carter, they spend all their time saying the stuff we're supposed to be saying, and so then we have to...
Me: Out-Herod Herod.
N: [looks at me with annoyance but doesn't let himself get distracted] You know why my fellow-Republicans hated Clinton so much?
Me: [musing] It did seem kind of... gratuitous. I mean, he was doing everything they wanted...
N: [excited] Exactly! He was taking our job away. I mean, with Democrats like Clinton, who needs Republicans? Othello's occupation's gone. Mr. Shakespeare.
Me: Touche. [ponders for a minute] So, basically, the devil made you do it.
N: [laughs] Okay, okay, I overstated a little. But you get the point.
Me: I get the point. It wasn't just pull from you guys...
N: It was push from them too. And the more they pushed the more we had to pull...
Me: And the more you pulled the more they had to push...
N: [excited again] No, no, not at all. Don't you see? They had somewhere else to go. We didn't. When we pulled, they coulda walked the other way and left us high and dry.
Me: [I haven't had lunch, and the whisky is very good] I think that's a mixed metaphor.
N: Mix, schmix. As Karl would say. You know what I mean. And then they've got the nerve to say they were just trying to keep up with us. Such chutzpah.
Me: Food for thought, food for thought.
N: [severely] You shouldn't drink so early in the day.
Me: Thinking about the Democrats, I always need a drink.
N: I feel the same way about the Republicans. [He takes another swig and begins to fade] A bientot, as Jackie Kennedy used to say. You find her attractive?
Me: Not a bit. That awful little-girl voice.
N: And no hips. Get yourself some coffee unless you wanna be back on the unemployment line. [He vanishes, leaving a peaty aroma of malt Scotch in the air and the impress of Presidential buttocks in the tired upholstery of the visitor's chair. My mug is empty, my head hurts, and somebody is knocking on the office door.]
welcome back dick
but hows
old uncle chou these days ?