The Real Admiral Tinkham

Good thing I get some news off Soldier Boy's Internet, because let me tell you, moving the website of a former spiritual leader for 9/11 hijackers and a Ft. Hood deranged killer to a server in Culver City is not enough to point the Microsoft arrow to Hughes.

Are you MI types nuts? I'm not.

In my fictional screenplay about a second American civil war, titled II, which is already, drama queens, carrying a copyright per the 1977 Copyright Act, (thanks for caring), the character named "ADMIRAL TINKHAM" says, to the naughty spygirl named after a street in Clayton, Missouri upon which I used to live, "Give me the card." The card in question will be the movie version of the stupidest strategic real-life item on Planet Earth--a credit card sized "wallet card" with nuclear attack codes on it carried by the President of the United States.

Are you all nutcases at the Pentagon? No, and you know I'm not, which is why the old Watergate Spooks provided me with yet another highly specialized publication, like Microwaves & RF, that featured an interview with the real-life version of Admiral Tinkham. This one is called Seapower, I guess all one word, but the "Sea" is in black ink, and the "Power" in brown. "Color Kooks," does that mean anything?

Don't know, but the good admiral, I can assure you, would be one of the first s---talkers drop-kicked out the door in any potential Hughes Administration. The Maf-IA may have stole everything I own, but among those books was one I had pretty much already read that told me of big satellite early warning of nuke attack failures, and the one they described the least may have been due to a highly crafty perp--my grandfather.

He did not like nuclear weapons, don't you know? So, what did those damn Soldier Boys do? Why, they blew the things up underground right down the road from grandpa's blacked-out top floor windows. Can't a man run an honest casino in the USA? I've concluded the answer is "No," so all the rodents are awaiting my trip to Pinnacle Entertainment to say, with resolve, "You're all fired!" and get out the door before the inevitable private security guard arrives. Las Vegas police? Aw, forget it, they won't shoot me and make up a story, will they? Nah, why bother?

Back to high-level orbital "Ha ha's," this trick may have seriously tested the Soldier Boy's "DOUBLE-DUTCH CHOCOLATE ICBM'S A' COMIN' WARNING SYSTEM," then Howard watched them sweat with his office phone conveniently uplinked to his very own satellite. Hey, when do I get my own.....? Never mind. Anyway, when the real Admiral Tinkham was asked about "tactical generals" tempted to "personally direct battle at the tactical level," I think he was, as I say, "talking in code" about taking the fabled "button" away from the president.

Shame on you, soldiers and sailors! The nuclear warfighting strategy is supposed to be top-down and invested in one dog only--the Commander in Chief. Right? Maybe not, because in my stolen from me book I read about how one James Earl Carter changed the nuking strategy from Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD), or "launch it all," to something more like Star Trek and Captain Picard's "Photon Torpedo Spread Alpha," meaning a more measured response to getting nuked.

"Tactical satellites are coming soon," said the real admiral, when I'm quite sure Hughes has made them for, oh, 30 years or so. "Detect WMD's at a distance"? Hughes has been there, done that, so do the Space Shuttle spyonauts really have to trade jibes with me and act like I've got a nuke in my homeless guy backpack? NASA and the Department of Defense should know the policeman occasionally searches me, but not the backpack, because the police know more than you think, and always have.

Truth is, I only hollered at the policeman one time, by telling him he should not give me a ticket for 32 in a 30 m.p.h. zone right after I graduated from bad boy driving school, due to excessive Fiat Spyder ZOOM-ZOOM, and now, Fiat is apparently taking over the world, not me. "Get out of the car, Mr. Hughes, you're disgusting" the man in blue said in 1978. "So is your speedtrap village," I thought, as I unknowingly led the blind by driving a sightless "friend" home.

Blind leading the blind? I used to call this deniable, factless, empirical void, where black clothing and vehicles are so en vogue "president practice" in honor of the National Security Act of 1947, but now you can call it the biggest crime run on one guy since man discovered fire. Or, shall we call it a "real-life Flint movie"? Sorry girls, I have nothing to say off-the-record, and I intend to put more than one president in jail, plus we have to face certain facts, such as, I am not as good-looking as James Coburn.