A Nixon Christmas Carol

[PBrunsel]

                                                     A Nixon Christmas Carol
                                                     A Christmas Tale
                                                                   By Paul Brunsel

http://www.always-safe.com/godrest.html

Chapter One: Buchanan’s Ghost

President Buchanan was dead to begin with. Dead since long before the birth of the man this story is about. He died of a stroke in 1868 and lies buried in Pennsylvania. Yes, James Buchanan was as dead as a doornail. Not to argue of the deadness of a doornail, but it must be said that Buchanan was dead.

     We now come to a more important part of my tale, for it was December 24th, 1970, and a cold man sat at his desk working late into the night. This man was President Richard M. Nixon, the 37th U.S. President. The night was cold, but not as cold as the President. “Rosemary,” Nixon snarled into his telephone, “Get Westmoreland on the line.” “Yes Mr. Nixon,” Rosemary replied. Within a few minutes the commanding general in Vietnam was on the phone. “What is Mr. President?” asked the General. “Begin bombing Cambodia,” ordered Nixon. “But Mr. President,” Westmoreland argued, “Tomorrow is Christmas, can’t this wait?” “Christmas! Bah humbug!” Nixon replied, “I don’t care if you destroy Santa’s sleigh in the bombings, I want the bombs to fall! We need to route the Communists out!” “Yes sir,” relied Westmoreland. Rosemary walked in to serve the President his tea, when Nixon told her, “I don’t get it, this whole Christmas thing. We are supposed to care about other human beings because it’s December?” “Well it is only once a year,” Rosemary replied. “Poor excuse for stopping bombings every 25th of December,” Nixon replied.

     Around 9:00 at night a small, heavily over coated man came into the Oval Office. “Hello,” the man said to the stern looking President, “My name is John Lewis, and I represent the Salvation Army.” “What do you want? Applause? Get on with it!” Nixon snapped. “We were wondering if you would give a small donation to the Salvation Army Christmas Fund. It would be quite an event if the President of the United States would give a donation to our fund.” “Is there no Welfare? Is there no Food Stamp Program?” Nixon asked. “Yes there is sir, but some would rather die then except government programs,” Lewis answered back. “Well if they would rather die then they better do it and decrease the surplus population!” Nixon shot back. “But Mr. President, can’t you find it in your heart to give any money to us?” Lewis asked. “Did I not expand welfare? Don’t I pay taxes that fund welfare, food stamps, and homeless shelters?” Nixon asked. “Well yes, but-“Lewis tried to say. “And if I have done these things then I have already given enough to the poor. I can not afford to make idle men merry!” Nixon yelled. “You sir are a crook!” Lewis yelled at him. “I am not a crook!” yelled back Nixon, “Mr. Liddy, will you “take care” of Mr. White?”

     Around 11:30 p.m. Nixon went to his room in the White House to eat some cold soup. His wife Pat had left to spend Christmas in California with her daughters, and Nixon stayed home. While he was eating his cold meal he heard a noise outside. It sounded like rattling of metal chains. “Those damn hippies are back,” he said to himself. He walked (cane in hand) to the door to throw something at them. He opened his window and in flew a very cold breeze. Nixon turned around and saw a ghost! “Holy Eisenhower!” he exclaimed, “Who are you!” “In life I was the 15th U.S. President James Buchanan,” the specter replied. “I don’t believe this!” Nixon yelled, “You could be a bit of bad television I watched. All that ‘funkadleik” stuff on the T.V. ya’ know. It messes with the senses.” With this Buchanan let out a great shriek! “I believe!” exclaimed Nixon, “Your as real as Teddy Kennedy is drunk!” “Good,” Buchanan said, “Now sit down, and you may want to grab a pen, I’ve got some important stuff to tell you.” “If it’s about that crazy mishap last week in Lincoln’s bedroom, I was framed! She wanted me to do it” Nixon cried. “No Dick it isn’t about that,” Buchanan said, “It’s about saving you from an afterlife of drudgery like I must have.” “I heard chains,” Nixon said, “Where are they?” “They were not chains Tricky Dick!” Buchanan screeched, “They were ballot boxes. They are full of stolen votes and empty campaign promises. I forged these ballot boxes in life! Every time I rigged an election the ballot boxes became more numerous. Now I must carry these ballot boxes for all eternity!” “But you always won the election,” Nixon said trying to comfort the tortured spirit. “The well being of my electorate should have been my focus in the election! Honesty, integrity, civility, should have been my focus!” Buchanan wailed. “What do you really want with me spirit?” Nixon asked. “All this yelling made me forget,” Buchanan said, “Was it to scare you? Was it to haunt you? Was it to make you give me five bucks? No…” “Perhaps you have come to warn me?” Nixon inquired. “No that’s not it,” Buchanan said, “WAIT! I know, I have come to warn you.” “Oh I never would have guessed,” Nixon mumbled annoyed. “Shut up you second hand pianist!” Buchanan yelled, “I warn you that tonight you shall be visited by three spirits. The first will come at the stroke of Midnight. They will be the Ghost of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet-to-Come. Heed their lessons for without them there is no way you can escape my fate: Hording around ballot boxes for all eternity and working a lousy night job.” With that Buchanan disappeared out the window. Then Nixon fainted.               

[YRABNNRM]

I like it!

[PBrunsel]

I like it!

More to come Andrew. Wait until the Ghosts get there, then it will go crazy.

[King]

I like it!

More to come Andrew. Wait until the Ghosts get there, then it will go crazy.

My guess on the characters:

Past - Kennedy
Present - Ford
Future - Reagan

[PBrunsel]

How dare you, Paul.

It's just a joke Mike. I thought you would like it.

[PBrunsel]

Chapter Two: The First of the Spirits
Nixon found himself on his bed when he regained consciousness. “I think I’ve had to much rum and not enough tidy,” said Nixon looking at the drink on his night stand. Then the clock stroked 12 midnight. After a few minutes Nixon chuckled to himself, “That ghost is as real as LBJ not getting us involved in Vietnam,” Nixon laughed to himself. Than a bright flash happened! “AAAH! Russia attacked!” screamed Nixon, “Ready the bombs!” “Wait, wait!” a man with a strange beard, “Russia didn’t attack you; it is I the Ghost of Christmas Past.” “What are you suppose to be?” Nixon asked, “A John Quincy Adams impersonator?” “I’m no impersonator,” said the man, “I am John Quincy Adams” With that Nixon almost fainted until Adams said, “No! I command you not to faint.” With that Nixon swallowed his faint. “Well why are you here?” Nixon asked. “What are you an idiot?” Adams asked, “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past, I’m going to show you your past.” Adams then saw the big bottle of whiskey on Nixon’s end table and took it down in about a minute. “I thought you were a Protestant bible thumping man of morals,” Nixon said. “That was in life,” Adams said, “In the afterlife I’m a party animal.” “Oh my,” Nixon sighed, “I don’t go any where with a drunk like you.” “Well you will have to,” Adams explained, “For we are going to go out this window.” “What! You are drunk!” Nixon screamed “I am a mortal and likely to fall.” “Oh boo hoo,” Adams mocked, “I’m crying a river here. Can’t you think of someone besides yourself?” “I don’t know,” Nixon responded, “Let me think a minute.” “Enough!” yelled Adams “How did a flake like you get elected President? Just grab onto my coat and you will fly.” With that Nixon grabbed onto Adams’ coat and they flew out the window.
         
             The strange duo landed in a small house, dimly lit by a candle. A doctor was kneeling over the cradle of a young infant. “Do you remember this house?’ asked Adams. “No,” Nixon said. “Yes you do,” Adams argued, “Don’t lie.” “I’m telling the truth,” Nixon argued back. “You are a liar!” Adams yelled, “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you didn’t remember this place!” “Perhaps you made a mistake?” suggested Nixon. “I’m an all knowing spirit, I don’t make mistakes,” Adams answered back. “I know this place,” Nixon conceded, “I thought if I said I didn’t you would send me back.” “Well think again Dick!” yelled Adams, “You have already wasted enough time.” The doctor went up to the mother and said, “Your son has taken quite a fall. He has a mighty gash in his head.” “Will he live?” asked the sobbing mother. “A slim chance of that,” the doctor said, “There is no real guarantee he will live.” “I do know this place,” Nixon said, “This is Ohio. My father was a train station deck man here. I nearly died here.” “Your mother was so careless with that baby carriage,” Adams said, “Wasn’t she?” “She couldn’t help it,” Nixon protested, “It was icy and snowing.” “I don’t think he’ll make it Hanna,” Nixon’s father said, “His breath gets slower every minute.” “But you did live,” Adams said, “Because of your mother’s care.” Nixon than saw his mother take her little infant into her arms and sing “Silent Night”. “I was not even older than a year old that Christmas when I nearly died,” Nixon stammered. “I knew it!” Adams said, “The second you saw that you would start bawling. Save me the waterworks!”
   Adams then snapped his fingers and they were at a loan office. “But Mr. Farnsworth,” pleaded Nixon’s father Francis, “My little boy Arthur is sick from TB, and we need money to get him into a hospital. I can’t get enough from my general store.” “You should of thought of the consequences before you chose to be poor,” Farnsworth laughed, “To give your shaky account a dime would be a waste of time and money. Get out of here.” “But my son could die!” Francis Nixon shouted. “If he should die than he better do it an decrease the surplus population,” Farnsworth sneered. “You knew he would say that!” Nixon snapped at Adams. “What?” Adams asked in a mocking tone. “The surplus-You know!” barked Nixon. ‘Oh that,” Adams said with a little cocky grin on his face, “I had no idea he would say that.” “Yeah right,” Nixon mumbled. Dejected, Francis Nixon left the loan office and went to meet his son Richard who was sitting outside in the lobby. “Dick,” Francis said to him, “Remember these words. Make your fortune and keep it. It doesn’t matter how you make the money, but get it and invest, save, and never give it away.” “I will father,” the young Nixon said. “That Christmas you learned quite an important lesson,” Adams chuckled, “That being a miser is a virtue.”
   “Do you remember this place?” asked Adams, “Wait a second. I know you do. I’m an all knowing ghost.” “It’s my old law office,” Nixon said, “I was an apprentice here. The old law partnership of Dunkey, Dunkey, Dunkey, and McCormick.” “Indeed,” Adams said, “Were they brothers?” “No,” Nixon said, “Just guys who met by complete accident one day, and three of them were named Dunkey.” A party was going on in the law firm. ”This is the second Dunkey’s annual Christmas Party,” Nixon explained, “He was a bit absent minded so he would always plan two of these annual events.” “Who’s that shy boy in the corner?” asked Adams. “That’s me as a young man,” Nixon explained, “Wait! I thought you were all knowing? Why did you have to ask me that?” “Dramatic effect!” Adams explained, “Have you no culture?” The shy Nixon began to move to the back of the room to do some filing when a little girl went up to him to give him a Christmas cookie. The cold face smiled, and he took it. “You idiot!” yelled Nixon, “Don’t eat that! It has the Cold bug on it! You will get sick for a week!” “He can’t hear you Einstein,” Adams cracked, “You are just a visitor here. Beside the point is that you noticed that little girl’s Christmas gift.” “Who is she?” asked Nixon. “Jerry Vorhees’ daughter,” explained Adams, “She went over the top after her father lost his race against you for the House in 1948. It seems she was taunted as the daughter of a Communist at school.” “Wait a second,” Nixon explained, “It was an election. How was I too known?” “You fool!” Adams yelled, “Every action affects someone!” “I didn’t know! “ cried Nixon with tears running down his cheeks. With that Nixon saw him dancing with the little girl to the tune of “Jingle Bells” and the once strong man broke down on his knees. “Why do you show me these things?” Nixon asked Adams, “Why do you delight in tormenting me?” “You fashioned these memories yourself Dick,” said Adams, now smoking a cigar, “And now you’re revisiting them. It’s like a bad season rerunned again.” “That’s not very funny,” Nixon said. “Heh, heh, yes it is,” Adams replied.
   “Where is the heck have you taken me now?” Nixon asked, “Haven’t you tormented my soul enough tonight?” “No I haven’t,” Adams stated, “Not yet.” “This looks like my house back in Yorba Linda,” Nixon said. “That’s because it is braniac!” Adams insulted, “And you got elected to public office. The year is 1960. You just lost the election to John Kennedy. ““Don’t say that name!” Nixon ordered. “What?” Adams asked, “Kennedy?” “I told you not to say that!” “What? Kennedy?” “Yes, yes, you idiot ghost.” “Kennedy.” “Stop!” “Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy!” This went on for another 10 minutes or so, so Nixon missed out on the important message that he used to be a feeling and warm man who thought of others, thus the reason he did not demand a recount. “Well my time grows short,” Adams said, “And you’ve got to get back to the White House. I can’t run behind schedule you know.”

[ilikeverin]

LOL

[○∙◄☻¥tπ[╪AV┼cVê└]

Let us have 18 1/2 minutes of silence for the late President Richard Nixon.

[WMS]

Let us have 18 1/2 minutes of silence for the late President Richard Nixon.

And during those 18 1/2 minutes, all lefties should flog themselves for shooting down Nixon's national health care plan. Way to gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, American left...

[PBrunsel]

After more than a two years, I will now finish this upon Christmas Day. Its not as funny as something that Gabu could have amde, but I do beleive it needs to be finished.

Chapter Three: The Second of the Spirits

Nixon awoke in his oversized bed that he claimed was owned by Washington. It was owned by a Washington, just not General Washington (I’m talking about a basketball player; you get a Christmas cookie in the shape of James Monroe if you know who!) “That’s the last time I drink a mixed drink of sleeping pills, vodka, and my own toenails,” coughed the mentally scarred politician Then the Lincoln bedroom lighted up and a great voice bellowed, “Come in!” “I thought I told Liddy to go back to Jersey for the holidays,” Nixon mumbled. Upon his arrival in the Lincoln room he nearly swallowed his own pipe (if he had swallowed it that would have been the second time that week). “Come in and know me better man!” cried a giant in a robe of pure imitation satin. “Hey now,” Nixon said, “I am in no business of getting to know guys ‘better’. Now out with you pixie, either through the door or out the window!” “Whoa!” the ghost said, “I have no intention of using my Lawrence v. Texas on you, but I am here to change your ways you terrible little man.” “I know who you are,” Nixon said with a smug little look, “You’re the Ghost of Christmas Present, don’t think I’m not onto you. I’m onto you ghosts more than Teddy Kennedy is on to a plump stewardess.” “Technically,” the large spirit stated, “I am William Howard Taft. It is a curse that if you were a mediocre at best president you must travel the world after your death reforming other mediocre at best presidents.” “Mediocre?” Nixon sneered, “Are you calling me mediocre?” “NO,” Taft grunted, “I’m calling that mouse in your pocket mediocre.” Out of Nixon’s left pajama pocket jumped a mouse, “The nerve of some people,” it huffed.

Taft took the angered statesman to their first stop, the Senate chamber. Sitting around a desk were two Senators that Nixon had longed loathed more than a bad grey suit:  Harold Hughes of Iowa and Aaron Dixon of Illinois. They were speaking with that annoying little charity worker John Lewis. “Well that man has to be the biggest ass I have ever spoken with,” Lewis told them. “You don’t need to tell us,” Hughes retorted, “He’s been stopping our attempts at legalizing weed for three years.” “Why?” asked Lewis, “It would do wonders to his disposition.” “See Taft!” Nixon claimed, “I told the State Department that Hughes’  ‘Jerry Garcia Act’ was a front for weed legalization, but all they could talk about was LSD and stuff like that. They need to get their priorities straight.” The three men continued what resembled a roast of Nixon while the invisible Presidents simply fumed. “I need to get Howard Hunt to kill those two,” Nixon mumbled. “You haven’t changed a bit have you?” Taft asked Tricky Dick. “No!” Nixon shouted, “Why should I? All this proved to me is what jerks people are. Why should I celebrate Christmas with cock-sucking ducks like those three?” “Well,” Taft murmured, “I…I don’t choose where to go, I just take you there. I’m like the pilot at Delta airlines except we run on schedule on Christmas.”

Nixon and Taft were now taken on a wild cruise around the world, flown by the ghost of Charles Lindbergh. “Weren’t you an anti-Semitic Nazi who hated human kind?” Nixon asked Lucky Lindy. “Yes,” said the ashamed aviator. “Man!” shouted Nixon, “You’re my hero!” The three traveled to the field of Vietnam, seeing how the American solider celebrates the Christmas Season. “What do you think Nixon?” asked Taft. “What are we paying these guys for?” asked Nixon, “Why aren’t they doing their jobs? Its’ a holiday in the U.S.A., not the rice fields of Barbaria.” “This may be a lost cause,” Taft sighed to Lindbergh. “I still get paid, right?” Lindbergh asked Taft.

Nixon was now back at the White House, and Taft was now much thinner. “Why are you so thin?” asked Nixon. “This modern jogging craze,” Taft explained, “Its making quite thin. So that means I have to go. My time is up, and thank God for it. I used to think that we spirits could change anyone. But you have made me so mad I am quitting this job and I don’t care if they send me to Hell for it! Eternal damnation is looking pretty good right about now!” “I’m not that bad,” Nixon said trying to defend himself. “I showed you a dying soldier and all you could say was, ‘I hope they don’t bury him in his uniform, those things cost $75.’”, Taft said with disgust, “You need to see what Hell is like so you can make plans to get a nice room.” With this Taft disappeared in an explosion resembling that of when you stick up Roman Candle down a bullfrogs’ mouth (which coincidentally was a Nixon family holiday tradition).

[PBrunsel]

Chapter Four: The Last of the Spirits (Or Nixon Gets Scared to Hell)

Standing with his Grinch feet ice cold in the snow, Nixon now had to ponder if he was wrong all along. However, he was not given much time to do this as a dark figure approached from behind the White House kitchen. “Damn it, Mexicans!” Nixon screamed, “For the last time, amigo, I don’t want you in the kitchen. If you want food go down to the homeless shelter, I’m sure they serve Mexicans all the time.” The dark figure in a dark cloak did not go, he simply pointed forward. Nixon, though usually defiant to the point of annoyance, followed him. The two stepped through a time portal which was actually a prop used in the remake of The Time Machine, you know, that crappy remake in 2002.

The two figures arrived at the Nixon homestead on Christmas 1974. “Well you blew it Dick,” a voice said over the phone to the former President, “You are the only man that I know that can take a landslide and turn it into a resignation. “You know what grandma,” Nixon said to the phone, “I don’t need to out up with this from you!” He angrily threw the phone across the room while yelling an expletive not suitable for a Christmas story. “Damn that Rod Serling and his fast talk,” Nixon of the future mumbled, “That phone was a waist of money.” “Why am I so mad?” Nixon asked, “I am still President, its only 1974.” The spirit pointed to the television. “Get this,” Johnny Carson said on the T.V., “Former President Nixon is spending Christmas this year in his hometown of Yorba Linda. The town is making quite a scene of it to, they even strung out the ‘Why did you have to be born here?’ banner.” “Not to Nixon,” the present version of Nixon said to himself, “Have Johnny Carson killed.”

The ghost now took Nixon to another future. Charlton Heston was cursing out a half submerged Statue of Liberty on a beach. “I think we may have gone a bit too far,” Nixon told the Spirit. It nodded in agreement and they took off once again.

Now the two were at the Georgia home of one Jimmy Carter on Christmas 1976. “I think we need to make a toast,” Carter told his family, “To Richard Nixon, the founder of our future presidency.” He then began to sing, and quite off tune as well:

Thank you very much!
Thank you very much!
That's the nicest thing that anyone's ever done for me
I may sound Double-Dutch
But my delight is such
I feel as if a losing war's been won for me
And if I had a flag I'd hang my flag out
To add a sort of final victory touch
But since I left my flag at home
I'll simply have to say
Thank you very, very, very much!

“On, no spirit!” cried Nixon, “Don’t tell me I played a part in electing that man president!” The ghost nodded and then threw off its hood. “And you aint seen nothing yet,” added the spirit of the future.

Nixon saw the horrors of his bitter mistrust of mankind. It involved such tortures as the Ford Administration, a band called the Manic Street Preachers, and countless clichéd books by pompous psychologists about what made Dick Nixon “tick”. “Spirit of the Future!” cried the frightened President, “I wish to see no more!” “Oh you can call me by my first name,” the ghost told Nixon, “Ronald. I guess I could say that I owe my future job to you as well.” “You become president to?” Nixon murmured, “How could this get any worse?” As if answering himself Nixon was transported to his Presidential Library where he saw his own grave, and it was just a little stone with a silly little quote on it. “That is all I got for a grave?” Nixon cried, “What could happen next?” Once again Nixon’s question was answered as his grave opened and he fell into a flaming pit.

“Oh no!” screamed Nixon, “I’m here! My mother always warned me that swearing would put me here.” “Oh you’re here in Hell for more than just swearing,” laughed former President John F. Kennedy, “Just like me!” “Where am I exactly?” asked Nixon, as he was surrounded by fire and countless numbers of ballot boxes. “Here is where you get your ballot boxes and than you get the best thing of all,” Kennedy cried, “You get to go traveling for eternity with Bobby and I!” Bobby Kennedy than appeared next to his brother, “Happy eternity Dick!” they both cried, “And once he kicks the bucket, Ted can join us too.” “I don’t want to spend eternity with you guys!” Nixon cried, “I hated spending twenty minutes with you!” Nixon then turned to Reagan, who by now was sleeping since this was in no way entertaining enough. “Oh Ronnie!” he cried, “Let me go back! I am not the man I was, I shall start anew (not Agnew), and will hold Christmas in my heart! I will stop ordering bombings on national holidays and stop killing my enemies with the usage of marines. I will also stop wearing black socks with khaki shorts.  I just don’t want to spend all that time with those two. Man, that would be-““Hell,” finished Nixon’s father, putting his bony hand on his shoulder. “AAAH!” screamed the tormented President.   

[CPT MikeyMike]

Paul - this is great. A great gift for the Forum.

Thanks Buddy!

[ilikeverin]

You rawk, PB

“Whoa!” the ghost said, “I have no intention of using my Lawrence v. Texas on you, but I am here to change your ways you terrible little man.”

William Howard Taft = Boss Tweed

[PBrunsel]

 Chapter Five: History is Changed

Nixon awoke screaming his mind out. “I’m alive!” he cried and jumped out of the bed, “I’m not dead! I’m not with the Kennedy’s in Hell! I feel as giddy as Ted Kennedy. I’m as happy as a welfare queen on collection day! I’m a free as a prisoner in Massachusetts!” The overjoyed Republican leaped through the air and repeatedly tripped over his own feet. He threw his taping machinery into the fireplace with such great joy that 18 and a half minutes were lost.

 Hearing this great commotion, Rosemary ran into the bedroom with a fire extinguisher. “Did you set fire to your hair again?” questioned the panicked secretary. “No,” said Nixon dripping with sweat, “But I feel like it.” Rosemary asked him if there was anything he could get him. “What I need isn’t legal,” Nixon said, “I’ll have the sign that Jerry Garcia Act.” Nixon than looked up and saw Buchanan’s portrait. “Oh thank you Mr, Buchanan!” cried Nixon, “I thank you on my knees. I-OW!” Nixon forgot that he had had a knee surgery and couldn’t kneel anymore.

 “Rosemary,” he said, “Take the rest of the day off! Here, take fifty bucks! Take my socks!” With this Rosemary whacked him with the fire extinguisher and called Dr. Lundgren. “I don’t need a doctor,” Nixon yelled, “I need to go outside!” He ran outside yelling Merry Christmas to everything including the portrait of Franklin Roosevelt that he was having burned.

 “Oh what a magnificent day!” Nixon cried, “There has never been such a day!” He then spied a hippy protesting outside the White House. “You!” he cried, “What are you doing protesting on Christmas? Go home to your family and take this!” He threw the hippy some money and then wondered if he’d spend it on drugs.

Richard Nixon was better than his word. He not only became a new man, he became one of the most successful presidents in American history. He served his second term until 1977 when he watched with joy as Senator Henry “Scoop” Jackson became President (and not Jimmy Carter, who stayed at home trying to revive his drunken brother). Nixon became as good a man and as good a president as the good old nation had ever seen, or any other good old nation, empire, or commonwealth for that matter. It was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, may this be truly said of us.

And as always, God Bless Us, Everyone.

                                            The End

[Gabu]

[Chancellor Tanterterg]

, etc.

[PBrunsel]

Bumped for the Christmas time holidays!

Merry Christmas to all, and don't be a Nixon..um, Scrooge.

[Kaine for Senate '18]

LOL

[Robespierre's Jaw]

If only that really happened...

This is really good PBrunsel. I'll try and not get any ideas from my new Nixon book, that I received for Christmas. It's kind of funny Conrad Black is actually writing about a crook when he is himself. LOL. I loved the bit where Nixon goes to far into the future and sees Charlton Heston cursing at the Statue of Liberty. Classic.

[Gabu]

I'm just going to ditto my previous post, as it still applies 100%.