The points of view expressed in this program are those of the author and not necessarily those of WTTW Channel 11.
It is an attempt to draw serious thought out of laughter.
We hope it is accepted as such.
Honest we do.
Sure it's dark out there.
Can hardly see them moving around after it gets dark, but then during the day they don't move much.
They're sneaky all right.
Turn around and there they are.
In front of you and back of you all along the side of you.
You know it's that foliage they got and the heat.
They're more used to it than we are.
And the sneaky Indians.
Nothing.
Hey, you know much about politics? Sure, I used to read Life Magazine every week when I was back home.
Why, what do you want to know? Well, how did we get in this mess? Don't you know? No.
It's the comics.
See, they train them up in the north.
Then they send them down.
They begin to take over the little villages.
Soon they begin to take over the whole place.
Guess so you can't tell the ones from the north from the ones from the south.
Yeah, I know what you mean.
They all look the same to me too.
Right, they're using the women and the kids.
Ah, it must be the comics.
Why those lousy red rats? I tell you that gas we're down and moan and throw up and it's too good for them.
Drop the bomb on them.
That's what I say.
Drop the bomb on them.
Burn them.
Defoliate them.
Round them up and send them back where they came from.
Things were fine before they came down here.
Boy, you couldn't be more right.
Send them back where they came from.
Let the people decide for themselves.
Free elections.
That's what I say.
You crummy pink back to the north.
We like Mississippi the way it is.
All right, panel, if your blindfolds are in place, no speaking.
Will our mystery guests come in and sign in please? All right, let's open up the questioning with Secretary McNamara.
Are you in show business? Well, you might call it that.
Our mystery guest thinks he's in show business, but really he isn't.
I have to give you a big no on that one, Mr.
Secretary.
One down and nine to go.
Lucy Baines.
Are you in show business? I just thought I was going to say sorry.
Are you in movies? That's still show business, Lucy.
Oh, I am sorry.
Are you in sports? No.
Two down and eight to go.
Mr.
Dean Rusk.
Are you in politics? Are you an elected official? Yes.
May I also add panel that our guest is not only an elected official, he's also officially elected.
All right, let's continue now with Mr.
Dean Rusk.
Do you hold a national office? Yes.
Who in Washington could possibly hold a national office? Good grief, it's daddy.
No, no, I'm sorry, Lucy Baines.
Good guess, though.
Can I make a stab at it? Sure, take my turn.
Mystery man, are you the vice president of the United States? Oh, yes, I am.
How did you ever know? I'll have a panel.
You must please keep your blindfolds on.
You still have to tell me the vice president's name.
It's still my turn? Yes.
Name of the vice president.
First and last? Yes, now just the name of the vice president of the United States.
Could we have a conference? This is our last water show, Captain.
We're out of ammo.
What are we going to do? Captain, my captain, rent the mercy of those merciless comms, those godless commie war mongers.
Easy, son.
War is hell.
Here we're back home.
Radio man.
Yes, sir.
Get me Washington, Brigadier General Nugent.
Yes, sir.
Hello, Lucy.
Is Pat there? Oh, thank you.
He's out back turning a rib so he won't burn.
Oh, General, just a moment, sir.
Here you are, Captain Hamilton.
Hello, Pat.
George here.
How's your old man? Great, great.
Well, no, things haven't been going too well for me since I stopped seeing her.
I got my notice, packed my bag, and here I am.
Oh, listen, General, I just want to tell you that the jungle's just crawling with Charlies.
Oh, no, sir.
Sir, we'll shoot at anything in black silk pajamas that moves.
Unfortunately, last week we shot one of the girls who travels with the Bob Hope show.
Oh, no, it was just a flesh wound, sir.
Seriously, General, the Charlies have us surrounded.
We're out of ammunition.
My men are restless, sir.
You know how it is, sir.
You shoot an Oriental and 20 minutes later you want to shoot another one.
Sir, I...
Sir, can you send us any reinforcements? I see.
Oh, sir, I just want to say one thing before you go.
That if we ever get out of this jungle inferno that rots men's souls, if we ever get out of here, sir, I'm recommending you for the Congressional Medal of Honor.
What's that? Oh, I don't know if I can do that, sir.
Oh, all right, sir, two medals, one for Lucy.
Over and out.
We'll get more ammunition, sir.
Well, man, it's like this.
I always believe in sharing with my troops.
It's the American way.
It's not easy to tell you this, men, but it seems that Washington has spent all the money appropriated for the war.
Oh, great.
Now, men, calm down.
Calm down.
There's still hope.
General Nugent thinks he can persuade the President to divert some of the great society funds.
It's like folks back home are just going to have to tighten in that old belt, just a few more notches.
But remember, men, it's a genuine American cowhide belt holding up the sharpest pair of red, white, and blue trousers you've ever seen.
It's only a matter of time now, men.
As the good book says, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's ox.
You're stopping in front of a harmonica.
Nobody's playing a harmonica.
I'm sorry, but you know, this is the part of a kid whose folks ought to fire him back home, takes out the harmonica.
I guess this is it, Captain.
We're done for.
No, sir, soldier.
Fighting 555th will never be done for, soldier.
As long as there's an America, as long as there's an America with footlong hot dogs, an apple pie, and frozen bananas on a stick, as long as there's Ebbets Field and the polo grounds, no, sir, soldier.
Fighting 555th will fight the forces that the free world fears until that world remains free, free from the godless commie tyranny which pits man against man, brother against brother, free from the godless commie hatred which splits the free world down the middle, free from the godless commie fluoridation of the water, free from all those godless commie things, soldier.
Then, soldier, there'll always be an America, an America with holding places, with spanking bright American flags waving outside, and spanking bright American voting machines inside, and spanking bright Democratic precinct captains to show you how they work.
An America for you and me, soldier.
I'll tell you, Captain, that's what this fight's all about.
Give those reds one look at a ballot box they turn around, run all the way back to Peking.
That's right, they wouldn't even stop at Hanoi to say goodbye.
I can see it now, the whole Danang Delta saturated with armed voting machines.
Quiet, I hear someone in the bamboo.
Captain, we finally got her, the voice of the V .C.
corrupting our boys with her godless propaganda.
Here she is, sir, Ho Chi Minh.
Hi, Ho.
All right, Minh, where'd they find you? Most honorable captain, I was teaching in the village.
Sir, two Buddhist monks named Charlie Chu and Tri State Toll became suspicious and turned her in.
What do you teach, man? Most honorable captain, I talked in the kindergarten.
I could've guessed, sir, it's the kindergarten kong who are the most dangerous of all.
Those five -year -old kids are pure Maoist doctrine before you know it that Charlies have another dream.
That's not so.
Most honorable captain, if you please, I teach the children to love the world around them.
We go on nature hikes around the outskirts of the village until the heat of the flaming napalm forces us back inside.
That's enough, Minh.
I ought to hit you in the head for those remarks.
But weren't for the fact that I'm a gentleman.
Yes, sir.
You know karate.
Take her away, soldier.
Yes, sir.
Come.
Hey, what's that? Hey, hey, hey.
All right, it was me.
Oh, they're planes, they're giant hawks.
With United States Air Force insignia on their wings.
Yeah, and there's American pilots riding on them.
Yeah.
They're dropping parachutes.
Look at this one.
Minh, a great thing has happened today.
The great society has joined the war effort.
Finally, the money that has been used to fight poverty, sickness, and disease will now go to fight the most fiendish of all our enemies.
And finally, we have enough guns and ammunition to fight the Reds with.
The free world has been saved.
Humankind will not forget this day.
Wait a minute, Captain.
These boxes are addressed to West Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee, and places like that.
Hey, Captain, that's funny.
There's no guns in this one.
Just sticks of butter.
Are you sure? No, sir.
No, I'm wrong.
Just a minute.
It's margarine.
This one's full of Joe Louis milk.
Yeah, and here's potatoes and spam.
And no blow chair.
Rotten commies.
They must have gotten to Washington before we did.
Men, we were just going to have to fight the VC with their own methods.
Soldier.
Yes, sir.
In that box.
Cereal, sir.
Dry cereal.
32 ,000 boxes of Rice Krispies.
Good.
Bring me your helmet and bring those boxes of Rice Krispies with you.
Yes, sir.
I'm pouring it in.
Radio man, bring me some of that Joe Louis milk.
Yes, sir.
Pour it in.
All right, men.
Take those boxes of Rice Krispies, all the milk we have, even the skimmed and the half and half, and take your battle station.
Captain, what's wrong? You've such a strange look in your eyes.
Soldier, don't you realize what I've done? One terse military command in one glib yet authoritative sentence.
I fought the Iwo Jima with John Wayne, the jungles of Corregidor with Randolph Scott, the North Atlantic with William Bendix, the South Pacific with Ezio Pinza, at Dunkirk with Garson, and even the fabled halls of Montezuma with Caesar Romero.
I, with one order, have decided the fate of the world.
What, a box of Rice Krispies? If it had to be me, men, thank God I'm an American.
Finally, it's quiet.
It's almost deafening, that silence.
Guns have stopped now, never to be fired again.
Who is to know it would end this way? Then who will ever know now? Close your eyes and sleep, soldier.
The war has come to an end.
They've poured the milk.
Soldier, boy, son, the world has come to an end.
Not with a bang, but with a snap, crackle, and pop.
The largest and strongest and bravest of birds, a real bird among birds, the great American eagle.
With a wing spread as wide as the world itself, with a flutter of powerful feathers, he encircles the globe and draws it close to his heart.
The great American eagle, protector of the world.
And behind every great man bird, a loving lady bird.
Oh, would that all birds were as loving as the lady bird, but that is not meant to be.
It is not the way of the land.
For over the land we see fall a hovering shadow.
Look up in fear, for it is the shadow of the hawk.
A bird of prey, no love in this bird.
An eye for an eye, a wing for a wing.
None can rest with this bird aloft.
None, that is, except the great eagle.
Not that the eagle is a warring bird.
Oh no, he wants peace.
In fact, he wants peace so badly he'll stop at nothing to get it.
But the hawk and eagle are not the only birds in the sky.
There flies the bird of freedom.
His untiring wings have beaten endless rhythm in the eternal symphony of peace and justice, the dove.
There was a time not so long ago when the hawk and dove flew side by side.
What fun they would have.
The hawk would open his beak and rattle his talons and puff himself up.
The dove would look on feigning horror, but feeling quite comfortable knowing that the hawk would not strike.
Then something strange happened.
A new eagle came to the roost.
This eagle has all the strength, courage.
The single difference is that this new eagle is unable to see things quite as sharply.
Perhaps it is because this eagle squints.
Indeed, when the eagle squints, you can hardly see his eyes, especially when he smiles.
The questionable condition of the eagle's sight activates a great change in the attitude of the hawk.
The hawk calls the eagle's condition foresight.
The dove calls it no sight.
The hawk says nothing to this and the eagle hears nothing.
The hawk tells the eagle, you are wise as an owl and keeps on hawking.
The dove tells the eagle, you are proud as a peacock and keeps on doving.
Finally, the hawk and dove meet beak to beak while the eagle stands as protector of the world.
Why, you're just a clay pigeon, says the hawk to the dove.
And you're crazy as a loon, says the dove to the hawk.
And I'm happy as a lark, puts in the ladybird, who all this time has been flitting from flower to flower to keep the gardens of America beautiful.
The hawk in his anger opens his beak, rattles his talons, puffs himself up and takes off after the dove with escalation and proliferation in his eyes.
Much to the chagrin of the eagle, the hawk in hot pursuit of the dove is sucked into the exhaust of an American jet fighter plane on a bombing mission.
The dove, however, dies much less spectacularly in being gassed by a low -flying crop duster.
The great American eagle, having lost strength when he lost his hawk, retires quietly to the Texas panhandle and grows old and fat eating crow.
Where else but in America could people freely speak their mind without the fear of retaliation? It was England.
France.
Sweden.
Tasmania.
Italy.
Newfoundland.
Finland.
Mozambique.
Baby, baby, where did our love go? Don't you wonder, don't you wonder no more.
Ooh, baby, ooh, baby, where did our love go? And all your promises, baby, all the love I ever moaned.
Baby, baby, ooh, baby, where did our love go? Ooh, please don't leave me.
All by myself, all I've got is burning, burning.
