One Man Against the World: The Tragedy of Richard Nixon

Richard Nixon. Took the U.S. in 1968 with the Robin of sociopathy, the Scotty Pippen of slime, the Charlie Murphy of chicanery, history’s greatest number two man, Henry Kissinger! And Nixon himself, his jowls flapping, his voice the gravel of global maneuver, his game of international chess making Vladimir Putin look like the Connect Four dilettante that he is!

We’ve got everything here. The communist hunt as Richie worked with the Faust of files, J. Edgar Hoover, makes us understand the truth of the Red threat that exists to this day. Undeserved redistribution and the spread of money like so much Stalinist oleo! But what was really happening? What was made possible? Was it the downfall of the Palm Tree Trotsky, Fidel Castro? Or perhaps terror in the clogged heart of Nikita Khruschev, fork trembling, pirogis sliding from the tines like membership from American communist parties?

No! What was made possible was the vice president of President Eisenhower, looking over the Nazi bludgeoning shoulder of a man that rendered Munich nothing more than gravel and desperate German blondes, now raising their star-spangled fetuses, gleefully shoved into their willing (usually) loins by the greatest generation, enjoying their golden years, unknown illegitimate sons stretching out themselves as they slide back into social security (or their nations’ versions thereof).

So what do you get when you combine a man who spent his middle age with the American Vishnu of Denuding Knowledge and the Buddha of Bombing Raids? You get Richard Fucking Nixon with H.K. coming along for the ride. Sure, there was Watergate. There was also the time that he sicced construction workers (probably non-union) with crowbars on a bunch of noisy, smelly and peaceful protestors. But that’s not what’s important here. What’s important was the near-billion strong second banana of communism, The People’s Republic of China. And their towering, shiny domed leader, The Boy of Stone (no longer controlled by the Man of Steel), Mao Zedong. And the flaccid weiner that borders Laos and Cambodia, Vietnam (of Forrest Gump fame).

How do you bring these crazy bastards to the table? Bomb them blind obviously, but remember that time we got into a fight with Korea and Mao Zedong moved hundreds of thousands of his disposable red checkers over the border? Well, we don’t want that again. It’s a good thing the 6000 mile long Lady in Red and her Asian son (birthed at the tasteful and equestrian age of 32) were about to go toe to toe at the PRC’s northern border, and Mao knew he was as dead as the excrement he swam through at the Yangtze River if this continued. 

Enter Nixon and Kissinger. Literally. Through the greasy, hairy halls of Eastern European diplomacy, a date was set, and Nixon—knowing he was the Boy of Stone’s only hope—stepped off a plane and spent some very pleasant time with Mao. Breznev saw this and panicked, Engels pajamas rumpled, and made sure to have that pendulous nose make its way to Moscow as well. What happens when you get in bed with Breznev and Mao? You can bomb the shit out of Hanoi without fear! This is but one episode of many in that make One Man Against the World: The Tragedy of Richard Nixon a joy to read (if you ignore the author’s bleeding liberalism)! Enjoy!