The top story on the front page of today's Oregonian was headlined, Is Son His Father's Bagman? Above it was a quote from David Ian Miller, special agent in charge of the FBI in Oregon. It read, "It wasn't easy to bring allegations against such a worthy adversary."
The story was about disgraced CIA spy Jim Nicholson, who "allegedly" sent his 24 year-old son to collect debts from Russia from his jail cell. Above is a picture of Harold James "Jim" Nicholson. So, let me get this straight-- he was a worthy adversary? Look at his freakin' T-shirt!!! Have G-men dumbed down or are they visually handicapped? I mean it! all the guy is missing is a hammer and sickle tattooed on his forehead.This is another case that enhances my admiration for fiction writers. With so much unbelievable shit going on every day, there are still people who have the talent to be able to make things up. I mean, didn't Dick Cheney look like some evil character out of Central Casting at the Inauguration? I kept praying the woman wheeling him around would have just upended the chair like the baby carriage down the stairs scene in Battleship Potemkin. And Blago, for chrissake! Could anyone have made him up? He makes the likes of Huey Long, Richard Daley (Sr.) and James Curley seem honest by comparison. And this yutz, Nicholson? Did he get that T-shirt on Venice Beach or at the Moscow Airport?
"It wasn't easy?"
Don't give up your day job, agent MIller.
4 comments:
Ha, so Darth Vader was in a wheelchair?? That's rich, I didn't see the nomination, so I couldn't comment. I think I was refretting a Strat or something. Yeah, that guy looks like a tough hombre with his shit eatin' grin and his commie shirt. This new breed of bagmen really can get away with murder and highly trained.....not. But now that the messiah is here, these guys better watch their ass....hey, I didn't get a hurumpf outta you.
It as the inauguration and being that it was a Tuesday, and you were invariably in your shop, tinkering with a Tele or fretting over the aforementioned Strat.
I can visualize looking out the window of your shop to the Boulevard below. My top-down Miata at the expired meter. I see it's in the upper 70's in La-La Land. Now, that I miss. Waking up to frost has gotten very old.
Is the messiah here? As a member o the tribe, I think I missed the story of his (or her) arrival.
Oh, and here's your harumph.
Wrong tribe....yes he's here folks and working miracles just with his appearance here today and garnished with a touch of mumbo-jumbo just to make it exciting. I feel invincible just sharing the planet with him.
Yes, I'm looking out of my window to the world outside but not seeing the familiar Miata convertible. My sad face reflected in the 100 year old window pain, I return to my tinkering and fretting over the Strat that waits for me, knowing that any minute the phone could ring. Shackled and lost in my dream, I try to forget that the messiah is on everyones mind and big screen Sony while I, like Sisyphus, roll the rock and rock the roll. But I'm a good soldier and the 78 degree weather eases my uneasiness just enough to validate that it's a great time to be alive....ding dong the witch is the dead.
Like the noir approach. Imagine Marlowe gazing out of his office window, having just lit up a cigarette after solving another pre-CBS mystery.
I don't know about all that Messiah stuff. Leo died years ago, and Muddy not long after. Which brings me to another digression, with a reference to driving to the end of the night... I'll share it.
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