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The Haig is Dead, Long Live the Haig

My fellow Americans,

It is with a heavy heart and a flare-up of my shingles that I announce that General Alexander Haig, my ex Chief of Staff, has died.

Haig, or "Strafing Run Al" as I called him, was always someone to whom I could turn when the liberal press, college peaceniks, or intellectual crybabies would start to annoy me - which was pretty damned often.  Unlike some other members of my staff, Al understood the need for aggression and a show of strength at a cellular level.  This was not a man who would doubt the wisdom of ordering a squad of B52s to bomb the Ho Chi Minh trail. Far from it; his eyes would light up with glee and his boundless joy would be more than he could contain. When the order for an attack was given his only two questions would be when does it start, and how many runs would be enough to blow those deceitful yellow commies back to the negotiating table.

Al's most important role, though, was to be my eyes and ears in terms of Henry.  Kissinger was a vital asset to be sure, but he was also deceitful and cunning - ready to upstage the president at any moment, and thus was someone who required a very short leash.  And Al was exactly the sort of man I needed yanking that leash whenever Henry would start to bark a bit too loud.  Al was blindly loyal, never questioned an order, willing to do whatever it took to ensure that the president maintain order and discipline in the land, and eager to unleash violence on all enemies foreign and domestic without a second thought.  He was a brutal sociopath, but he was my brutal sociopath.

I have many fond memories of Al, but the one that always brings a smile to my face is one meeting with me, Al, and Henry, during which we were discussing what to do about the over reaction by the press to a few hippies getting shot at Kent State University.  Al was resolute, and wanted to issue a terse statement to the press amounting to "They played with fire and got burned." Henry, on the other hand, wanted to be more conciliatory toward the left, believing it could win us points.  Al began to bubble over with anger over what he viewed as appeasement, when he suddenly turned to Henry, reached under his coat, pulled out his pistol, pointed it at Henry's forehead, cocked the hammer, and said in an almost inaudible voice, "Goddamit, Kissinger, if you think we should kiss the ass of those liberal traitors I will splatter your egg-headed, Jew brains all over the Oval Office."  I decided enough was enough, told Al that we should be adult about it, and say something non-committal about the whole thing, and let it rest. Al slowly returned his weapon to the holster, whispered that Henry was very lucky, then let out a fart.  We all laughed.

Good times.

 Nixon is: Doleful