“In his praise for Manafort, now convicted of multiple felonies but refusing to spill the beans, to his ire with Cohen for a willingness to cooperate, to his absurd claim that turning state’s evidence should be outlawed, Trump acts more like a mob boss than a president.”
”Tweet on August 23, 2018, from Congressman Adam Schiff of California
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Vic Gold, who died a year ago after a long career in politics and journalism, wrote a 1980 Washingtonian story about what it’d be like if things got so bad that the American people would elect a Mafia boss as President. Excerpts from Vic’s story titled “If a Mafia Boss Ran the Country.”
“We Are Going to be One Happy Family”
It was an offer we couldn’t refuse.We were a nation in search of strong leadership. So it was that by 1980 the American people, disgusted by the President’s bungling Georgia Mafia, were ready to to turn the real thing—the Mafia Mafia…
As the Boss of Bosses informed us in his inaugural address, we were going to be “one happy family.” He was speaking figuratively, since under the new regime’s territorial divisions, the country would actually be run by four families, headed by a quartet of underbosses who reported to the Boss of Bosses.
Right from the start—the memorable address from the Capitol steps—we knew we had a man in charge. According to Evans and Novak, the speech had been written by the number-one White House speechwriter, Jimmy Breslin.
Germond and Witcover, however, claimed that Breslin’s draft had been rewritten by the new administration’s resident intellectual, Mario Puzo. Whatever the case, the text, which was delivered in short, staccato bursts, was notable for its raw simplicity.
“Gonna tell you once,” rasped the new President, glaring into the cameras, “I’m not going to repeat myself.”
The following morning, the Boss of Bosses held his first and only news conference. He was asked to spell out his agenda for the country. “That’s a good question,” he replied.”Don’t ask it again.”
No hemming and hawing: finally there was someone in the Oval Office who wouldn’t bend to the winds of public opinion.
TheWashington Post complained about infringements on press freedom, and the Washington Star objected when members of the Cabinet—renamed the Commission—refused to speak to reporters. But the vast majority of Americans were ready for a leadership that gave them more action and less talk…
“For the first time in years,” wrote one reporter, “we have a woman in the White House who, when asked, says she doesn’t know what her husband’s business is and doesn’t want to know.”…
He is, as his closest aides describe him, “a very, very private man.” On quiet evenings at home, he prefers the company of trusted friends, engaging in long dialogues with his favorite economist, Meyer Lansky. His favorite actor is Sly Stallone. His favorite sports team is the Washington Bullets. His favorite hymn is “Shall We Gather by the River?” His favorite song is “Stayin’ Alive.”…
After reordering the priorities of his administration team, the Boss of Bosses was ready to tackle the problem of world peace, which he did in December 1981 at the Appalachian summit meeting. Or, as he preferred to call it, “The Big Sit-Down.”
Every major world leader, along with a few territorial capos, was in attendance. That was a historic first. But the real first was that for once the American people were sending a chief executive into the negotiations with foreign leaders figuring our side had the edge.
For an example, the Big Boss had no difficulty in arriving at an agreement with his Russian counterpart. Still, ceremonial appearances were maintained: The Russian gave our leader a sleek black Zis sedan as a token of esteem, and in return our leader gave the Russian a sleek black Cadillac hearse.
Nobody ever claimed to see anything subtle in the way the Big Boss got his ideas across.
On the morning preceding the big sit-down, the Ayatollah Khomeini and Muammar Qaddafi each woke up to find a sacred ram’s head at the foot of the bed.
Anwar Sadat, Menachem Begin, King Khalid, and Yasser Arafat found themselves stuck in the same elevator between floors for six hours.
By noon of the second day, forever after known as the Day of a Hundred Embraces, it was all wrapped up. Signed, sealed, and delivered.
Peace—it was wonderful. And with the Big Boss cut in for the percentage of the action, we knew those Middle East wells would keep pumping.
Dear Jack,
How disturbing it is to find that Puzo, Gold, Breslin & Company were almost ridiculously innocent and gentle in their imagining of what it might mean to get a mafia-like “Boss” in the White House. (Not to speak of derivative.)
Now that there is a degenerate Russian agent in the Oval Office and the USA is subject to a brilliant Putin-managed destabilization campaign that attacks both the spirit and the soul of the nation, a Corleone in power would be a breath of fresh air.