Mini 1438: Gonzo Mafia (Scum Win)

[Majiffy]

Enjoy some music while I work on the flavor.

My submission for a mixing contest.
New hip-hop beat for a concept album.

[Majiffy]

mantisdreamz (L-0): kuror0, Human Destroyer, Remembrance, Rubicon, I Am Innocent

I Am Innocent (L-3): mantisdreamz

SE-Asians, buldermar, Remembrance, pirate mollie

With 9 alive, it takes 5 to lynch.
Deadline is Sunday, May 12th 2013, at 12:00 AM EST.

The Merry Pranksters Welcome The Hell's Angels

The party continued for two days and nights, but the only other crisis came when [Kesey] stood naked on the private side of the creek and screamed off a long, brutal diatribe against the cops only twenty yards away. He was swaying and yelling in the bright glare of a light from the porch, holding a beer bottle in one hand and shaking his fist at the objects of his scorn: "You sneaky motherfuckers! What the fuck's wrong with you? Come on over here and see what you get... goddamn your shit-filled souls anyway!" Then he would laugh and wave his beer around. "Don't fuck with me, you sons of shitlovers. Come on over. You'll get every fucking thing you deserve."

...

Long before the outlaws discovered La Honda, Kesey's free-wheeling parties were already cause for alarm among respectable LSD buffs - scientists, psychiatrists, and others in the behavioral-science fields who felt the drug should only be taken in "controlled experiment" situations, featuring carefully screened subjects under constant observation by experienced "guides." Such precautions are thought to be insurance against bad trips. Any potential flip-out who leaks through the screening process can be quickly stuffed with tranquilizers the moment he shows signs of blood lust or attempts to wrench off his own head to get a better look inside it.

...

On January 31, 1966, Kesey jumped bail and disappeared. A suicide note was found in his abandoned bus on the northern California coast, but not even the police believed he was dead. Results of my own investigation are very hazy, although I managed - after many months of digging - to locate his forwarding address:

c/o Agricultural Attache
U.S. Embassy
Asuncion, Paraguay

...

In September of '66 Kesey returned to California unannounced and made a series of brief appearances at "underground" parties and press conferences. He said he'd decided, after six months south of the border, to return to this country as "a permanent fugitive and salt in the wounds of J. Edgar Hoover." Kesey's red panel truck was either too slow, or his driver too inept, to avoid J. Edgar's hounds. As this was written he was free on more than $30,000 bail and awaiting trial on charges that could send him to prison for one to five years. My own feeling is that he should have stayed in Asuncion and gotten a job.

mantisdreams was Ken Kesey,

Town Doctor.

[Majiffy]

Fun stuff on the last post of page 124!

Night 3 - Las Vegas, 1971

But do me this one last favor: just give me five more high-speed hours before you bring the hammer down; just let me get rid of this goddamn car and off of this horrible desert.

Which is not really a hell of a lot to ask, Lord, because the final incredible truth is that I am not guilty. All I did was take your gibberish

seriously

... and you see where it got me? My primitive Christian instincts have made me a criminal.

...

And now look at me: half-crazy with fear, driving 120 miles an hour across Death Valley in some car I never even wanted. You evil bastard! This is

your

work! You'd better take care of me, Lord... because if you don't, you're going to have me

on your hands

.

---

My attorney was downstairs at the bar, talking to a sporty-looking cop about forty whose plastic name-tag said he was the DA from someplace in Georgia. "I'm a whiskey man, myself," he was saying. "We don't have much problem with drugs down where I come from."

"You will," said my attorney. "One of these nights you'll wake up and find a junkie tearing your bedroom apart."

"Naw!" said the Georgia man. "Not down in

my

parts."

I joined them and ordered a tall glass of rum, with ice.

"You're another one of these California boys," he said. "Your friend here's been tellin' me about dope fiends."

"They're everywhere," I said. "Nobody's safe. And sure as hell not in the South. They like the warm weather."

"They work in pairs," said my attorney. "Sometimes in gangs. They'll climb right into your bedroom and sit on your chest, with big Bowie knives." He nodded solemnly. "They might even sit on your

wife's chest

- put the blade right down on her throat."

"Jesus God almighty," said the southerner. "What the hell's

goin' on

in this country?"

"You'd never believe it," said my attorney. "In L.A. it's out of control. First it was drugs, now it's witchcraft."

"Witchcraft? Shit, you can't mean it!"

"Read the newspapers," I said. "Man, you don't know trouble until you have to face down a bunch of these addicts gone crazy for human sacrifice!"

"Naw!" he said. "That's science fiction stuff!"

"Not where

we

operate," said my attorney. "Hell, in Malibu alone, these goddamn Satan-worshippers kill six or eight people

every day

." He paused to sip his drink. "And all they want is the blood," he continued. "They'll take people right off the street if they have to." He nodded. "Hell, yes. Just the other day we had a case where they grabbed a girl right out of a McDonald's hamburger stand. She was a waitress. About sixteen years old... with a lot of people watching, too!"

...

We left him at the bar, swirling ice in his drink and not smiling. He was worried about whether or not to tell his wife about it. "She'd never understand," he muttered. "You know how women are."

I nodded. My attorney was already gone, scurrying through a maze of slot machines toward the front door. I said goodbye to our friend, warning him not to say anything about what we'd told him.

Night 3 Begins Now. Deadline is Wednesday, May 15th, at 6 PM EST

[Majiffy]

Well fuck you guys, I didn't bring my Hells Angels book with me, I brought Campaign Trail 72 because I though you were going to lynch Rubicon. You won't be getting a flip on Mantis' slot till I get home and can look up a good paragraph on Ken Kesey.

[Majiffy]

Flavor added. Night will probably be suspended until I have time to find a replacement for Rubicon.

[Majiffy]

jon_h61 replaces Rubicon effective immediately.

I'll open this later tonight.

[Majiffy]

Weird Memories of '68: A Private Conversation with Richard Nixon

Four years ago I ran this road in a different Mercury, but I wasn't driving then. It was a big yellow sedan with a civvy-clothes cop at the wheel. Next to the cop, up front, were two of Nixon's top speechwriters: Ray Price and Pat Buchannan.

There were only two of us in back: just me and Richard Nixon, and we were talking football in a serious way.

...

It was a very weird trip; probably one of the weirdest things I've ever done, and especially weird because both Nixon and I enjoyed it. We had a good talk, and when we got to the airport I stood around the Lear Jet with Dick and the others. Chatting in a very relaxed way about how successful his swing through New Hampshire had been... and as he climbed into the plane, it seemed only natural to thank him for the ride and shake hands...

But suddenly I was seized from behind and jerked away from the plane ... A hand lashed out of the darkness to snatch the cigarette out of my mouth ... and I recognized the voice of Nick Ruwe, Nixon's chief advance man ... "God damnit, Hunter, you almost blew up the plane!"

I shrugged. He was right. I'd been leaning over the fuel tank with a burning butt in my mouth.

...

"Very bad show," I said, "especially when you remember that I did about three king-size Marlboros while we were standing there. Hell, I was flicking the butts away, lighting new ones... you people are lucky I'm a sane, responsible journalist; otherwise I might have hurled my flaming zippo into the fuel tank."

"Not you," he said. "Egomaniacs don't do that kind of thing." He smiled. "You wouldn't do anything you couldn't live to write about, could you?"

"You're right," I said. "Kamikaze is not my style. I much prefer subtleties, the low-key approach - because I am, after all, a professional."

"We know. That's why you're along."



Actually, the reason was very different: I was the only one in the press corps that evening who claimed to be as seriously addicted to pro football as Nixon himself. I was also the only out-front, openly hostile Peace Freak; the only one wearing old Levis and a ski jacket, the only one (no, there was

one

other) who'd smoked grass on Nixon's big Greyhound press bus, and certainly the only one who habitually referred to the candidate as "the Dingbat."

So I still had to credit the bastard for having the balls to choose

me

- out of the fifteen or twenty straight/heavy press types who'd been pleading for two or three weeks for even a five-minute interview - as the one who would share the back seat with him on this Final Ride through New Hampshire.

But there was, of course, a catch. I had to agree to talk about

nothing except football

. "We want the Boss to relax," Ray Price told me, "but he can't relax if you start yelling about Vietnam, race riots, or drugs. He wants to ride with somebody who can talk

football

." He cast a baleful eye at the dozen or so reporters waiting to board the press bus, then shook his head sadly. "I checked around," he said. "But the others are hopeless - so I guess you're it."

"Wonderful," I said. "Let's do it."

We had a fine time. I enjoyed it - which put me a bit off balance, because I'd figured Nixon didn't know any more about football than he did about ending the war in Vietnam. He made a lot of allusions to things like "end runs" and "power sweeps" on the stump but it never occurred to me that he actually

knew

anything more about football than he knew about the Grateful Dead.

But I was wrong. Whatever else might be said about Nixon - and there is still serious doubt in my mind that he could pass for Human - he is a goddamn stone fanatic on every facet about pro football. At one point in our conversation, when I was feeling a bit pressed for leverage, I mentioned a down & out pass - in the waning moments of the 1967 Superbowl mismatch between Green Bay and Oakland - to an obscure, second-string Oakland receiver named Bill Miller that had stuck in my mind because of its pinpoint style & precision.

He hesitated for a moment, lost in thought, then whacked me on the thigh & laughed: "That's right, by God! The Miami boy!"

I was stunned. He not only remembered the play, but he knew where Miller had played in college.

HumanDestroyer was Richard Nixon,

Town Cop.

[Majiffy]

Day 4 - New Hampshire, 1972

There is nothing in McGovern's campaign, so far, to suggest that he understands ... he is still talking to the Politics of the Past. He is still naive enough to assume that anybody who is honest & intelligent - with a good voting record on "the issues" - is a natural man for the White House.

But this is stone bullshit. There are only two ways to make it big-time in politics today: One is to come on like a mean dinosaur, with a high-powered machine that scares the shit out of your entrenched opponents (like Daley or Nixon)... and the other is to tap the massive, frustrated energies of a mainly young, disillusioned electorate that has long since abandoned the idea that we all have a

duty

to vote. This is like being told you have a

duty

to buy a new car, but you have to choose immediately between a Ford and a Chevy.

...

The only "candidates" in favor of Amnesty are McGovern and Ted Kennedy. I watched McGovern deal with the question when it popped out of that overflow student audience at Keene State. He was talking very sharp, very confident, and when the question of Amnesty came up, he got right on it, saying, "Yes, I'm in favor..."

This provoked a nice outburst of cheers and applause. It was a very strong statement, and the students clearly dug it.

Then, moments later, somebody tossed out the fishhook - asking McGovern if he had any plans, pro or con, about supporting Muskie, if Big Ed got the nod at Miami.

McGovern paused, shifted uneasily for a second or so at the podium, then said: "Yes, I'm inclined to that position." I was standing behind him on the stage, looking out at the crowd through a slit in the big velvet curtain, and according to the red-inked speed-scrawl in my notebook, the audience responded with... "No cheering, confused silence, the audience seemed to

sag

..."

[Majiffy]

Not Voting: Remembrance, buldermar, jon_h61, pirate mollie, I Am Innocent, SE-Asians, kuror0

With 7 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, March 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Ok go ahead.

[Majiffy]

Roles were randomized.

[Majiffy]

I dig you.

[Majiffy]

Good god, Buldermar.

[Majiffy]

Good god, Buldermar.

U HAZ PROBLEM?

YEAH I'VE GOT THIS DUTCH PAIN IN MY ASS.

[Majiffy]

Bump.

[Majiffy]

kuror0 (L-3): I Am Innocent
I Am Innocent (L-3): kuror0
jon_h61 (L-3): Remembrance
buldermar (L-3): pirate mollie

Not Voting: buldermar, SE-Asians, jon_h61

With 7 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, March 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Ok, this is getting silly. Please prod Remembrance, kuror0, pirate mollie and I Am Innocent.

Eh maybe later tonight.

[Majiffy]

I think I gave prods.

[Majiffy]

Oh fuck you making posts and shit, now I have to update the vote count.

[Majiffy]

Deadline is on Thursday, March 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

Cool we have almost a year.

- b

Fixed.

[Majiffy]

C-C-C-C-COMBO BREAKER.

[Majiffy]

Bump.

[Majiffy]

kuror0 (L-3): I Am Innocent
I Am Innocent (L-3): kuror0
jon_h61 (L-3): pirate mollie

Not Voting: buldermar, SE-Asians, jon_h61, Remembrance

With 7 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, May 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Jesus you guys made a whole other page?

Fuck someone just PM me when this day is over.

[Majiffy]

Done.

This will be their last prod. If I have to prod them again for any reason, they will be force-replaced.

[Majiffy]

Damnit Buldermar.

[Majiffy]

y u poast so much

[Majiffy]

VCs for this page and the next later on tonight.

[Majiffy]

Herp.

[Majiffy]

Derp.

[Majiffy]

kuror0 (L-2): I Am Innocent, SE-Asians
I Am Innocent (L-1): kuror0, Remembrance, pirate mollie

Not Voting: buldermar, jon_h61

With 7 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, May 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Fluff - I'm interested to see what Majiffy has for my flavor.

I have an excellent interview between Thompson and Buchanan at the end of Campaign Trail '72 that I'll probably use.

[Majiffy]

Bump.

[Majiffy]

kuror0 (L-1): I Am Innocent, SE-Asians, Remembrance
I Am Innocent (L-2): kuror0, jon_h61
jon_h61 (L-3): pirate mollie

Not Voting: buldermar

With 7 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, May 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

kuror0 (L-0): I Am Innocent, SE-Asians, Remembrance, pirate mollie

I Am Innocent (L-1): kuror0, jon_h61, buldermar

Not Voting:

With 7 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, May 30th, at 10:00 PM EST.

A First, Massive & Reluctantly Final Judgement on the Reality of George McGovern

Looking back on that week in New Hampshire, it was mainly a matter of following George McGovern around and watching him do his thing - which was pleasant, or at least vaguely uplifting, but not what you'd call a real jerk-around.

McGovern is not one of your classic fireballs on the stump. His campaign workers in New Hampshire seem vaguely afflicted by a sense of uncertainty about what it all means. They are very

decent

people. They are working hard, they are very sincere, and most of them are young volunteers who get their pay in room & board... but they

lack

something crucial, and that lack is painfully obvious to anybody who remembers the mood of the McCarthy volunteers in 1968.

Those people were

angry

. The other side of that "Clean for Gene" coin was a nervous sense of

truce

that hung over the New Hampshire campaign. In the backroom late night talks at the Wayfarer there was no shortage of McCarthy staffers who said this would probably be their final trip "within the system". There were some who didn't mind admitting that, personally, they'd rather throw firebombs or get heavily into dope - but they were attracted by the drama, the sheer balls, of McCarthy's "hopeless challenge".

...

McGovern is the only major candidate - including Lindsay and Muskie - who invariably gives a straight answer when people raise ... questions. He lines out the painful truth, and his reward has been just about the same as that of any other politician who insists on telling the truth: he is mocked, vilified, ignored and abandoned as a hopeless even by his good old buddies like Harold Hughes.

...

This is the soft underbelly of the "McGovern problem". He really is just another good Democrat, and the only thing that sets him apart from the others is a hard, almost masochistic kind of honesty that drives him around the country, running up huge bills and turning people off.

kuror0 was George McGovern,

Mafia Goon.

[Majiffy]

Night 4, Miami Beach 1972

I spent two very tense hours right in the middle of that Nixon Youth mob on Tuesday night, and it gave me an opportunity to speak at considerable length with quite a few of them...

...

I was just idling around in the hallway, trying to go north for a beer, when I got swept up in a fast-moving mob of about two thousand people heading south at good speed, so instead of fighting the tide I let myself be carried away to wherever they were going...

Which turned out to be the "Ready Room", in a far corner of the hall, where a dozen or so people wearing red hats and looking like small-town high-school football coaches were yelling into bullhorns and trying to whip this herd of screaming sheep into shape for the spontaneous demonstration, scheduled for 10:33 PM.

...

Our first clash erupted when I looked up from where I was sitting on the floor against a wall in the back of the room and saw Ron Rosenbaum from the

Village Voice

coming at me in a knot of shouting Nixon Youth wranglers. "No press allowed!" they were screaming. "Get out of here! You can't stay!"

They had nailed Rosenbaum at the door - but, instead of turning back and giving up, he plunged into the crowded room and made a beeline for the back wall, where he'd already spotted me sitting in peaceful anonymity. By the time he reached me he was gasping for breath and about six fraternity/jock types were clawing at his arms. "They're trying to throw me out!" he shouted.

I looked up and shuddered, knowing my cover was blown. Within seconds, they were screaming at me, too. "You crazy bastard," I shouted at Rosenbaum, "You

fingered

me! Look what you've done!"

"No press!" they were shouting. "OUT! Both of you!"

I stood up quickly and put my back to the wall, still cursing Rosenbaum. "That's right!" I yelled, "Get that bastard out of here! No press allowed!"

...

It was just about then that somebody noticed my "press" tag was attached to my shirt by a blue-and-white McGovern button.

...

They never came right out and said it, but I could see they were uncomfortable at the prospect of all three network TV cameras looking down on their spontaneous Nixon Youth demonstration and zeroing in - for their own perverse reasons - on a weird-looking, thirty-five-year-old speed freak with half his hair burned off from overindulgence, wearing a big blue McGovern button on his chest, carrying a tall cup of "Old Milwaukee", and shaking his fist at John Chancellor up in the NBC booth - screaming: "You dirty bastard! You'll

pay

for this, by God! We'll rip your goddamned teeth out! KILL! KILL! Your number just came up, you communist son of a bitch!"

I politely dismissed all suggestions that I remove my McGovern button, but I agreed to carry a sign and wear a plastic hat like everybody else. "Don't worry," I assured them, "You'll be proud of me. There's a lot of bad blood between me and John Chancellor. He put acid in my drink last month at the Democratic Convention, then tried to humiliate me in public."

"Acid? Golly that's terrible! What kind of acid?"

"It felt like Sunshine," I said.

"Sunshine?"

"Yeah. He denied it, of course - but hell, he

always

denies it."

"Why?" a girl asked.

"Would

you

admit to a thing like that?"

She shook her head emphatically. "But I wouldn't do it, either," she said. "You could

kill

somebody by making them drink acid - why would he want to kill

you

?"

I shrugged, "Who knows? He eats a lot of it himself." I paused, sensing confusion... "Actually I doubt if he really wanted to kill me. It was a hell of a dose, but not

that

strong." I smiled. "All I remember is the first rush: it came up my spine like nine tarantulas... drilled me right to the bar stool for two hours, I couldn't speak, I couldn't even blink my eyes."

"Boy, what kind of acid does that?" somebody asked.

"Sunshine," I said. "Every time."

By now, several others had picked up on the conversation. A bright-looking kid in a blue gabardine suit interrupted: "Sunshine acid? Are you talking about LSD?"

"Right," I said.

Now the others understood. A few laughed, but others muttered darkly, "You mean John Chancellor goes around putting LSD in people's drinks? He takes it himself?... He's a dope addict...?"

"Golly," said the girl. "That explains a lot, doesn't it?"

Night 4 begins now. Deadline is on Sunday, June 2nd, at 11:30 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Fear and Loathing at the Watergate: Mr. Nixon Has Cashed His Check

Buchanan is one of the few people in the Nixon administration with a sense of humor. He is so far to the right that he dismisses Tex Colson as a "Massachusetts liberal." But for some reason, Buchanan is also one of the few people - perhaps the only one - on Nixon's staff, who has friends on the other side of the political spectrum. ... My own relationship with Buchanan goes back to the New Hampshire primary in 1968 when Nixon was still on the dim fringes of his political comeback. We spent about eight hours one night in a Boston hotel room, finishing off a half gallon of Old Crow and arguing savagely about politics: As I recall, I kept asking him how a person who seemed to have good sense would be hanging around with Nixon. It was clear even then that Buchanan considered me stone crazy, and my dismissal of Nixon as a hopeless bum with no chance of winning anything seemed to amuse him more than anything else.

...

So it seemed entirely logical, I thought - going back to Washington in the midst of this stinking Watergate summer - to call Buchanan and see if he felt like having 13 or 14 drinks on some afternoon when he wasn't at the White House working feverishly in what he calls "the bunker." [Ray] Price and Buchanan write almost everything Nixon says and they are busier than usual these days, primarily figuring out what

not

to say. ... When I called him at the White House the day before, the first thing he said was "Yeah, I just finished reading your book."

"Oh Jesus," I replied, thinking this naturally meant the end of any relationship we'd ever have. But he laughed. "Yeah, it's one of the funniest things I've ever read."

One of the first things I asked him that afternoon was something that had been simmering in my head for at least a year or so and that was how he could feel comfortable with strange friends like me and Rick Stearns, and particularly how he could possibly feel comfortable sitting out in the open - in plain sight of the whole Watergate crowd - with a known monster whose affection for Richard Nixon was a matter of fairly brutal common knowledge - or how he felt comfortable playing poker once or twice a week sometimes with Rick Stearns, whose political views are almost as diametrically opposed to Buchanan's as mine are. He shrugged it off with a grin, opening another beer. "Oh, well, we ideologues seem to get along better than the others. I don't agree with Rick on anything at all that I can think of, but I like him and I respect his honesty."

jon_h61 was Pat Buchanan,

Town Cop.

[Majiffy]

Day 5, Woody Creek 1990

IV
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

To: Hal Haddon
From: HST
Date: May 6, 1990

Never mind that bullshit about "The Scopes Trial of Drug Use in the Home." No, counselor, that is

wrong

...

The only mention of drug use in this case comes from a brow-beaten female witness who was drunk at the time and dopey with fear and booze and bad nerves.

This is a

Fourth Amendment

case. It is not about sex or drugs or violence. It is about police power.

Do the police have a right to search my/your home tomorrow on the word(s) of three kinky complainants who flatter the Three Stooges and who lie to each other by accident and who now say the "victim" would rather flee than testify? And who then had their sordid squabble taken out of their hands by vengeful cops and Jesus freaks who would never have touched the case in the first place if they hadn't been convinced somehow by incredibly bungled investigatory procedures by the Pitkin County Sheriff's Dept., who then dumped it on the D.A.'s doorstep as a sure-fire arrestable Felony Menacing case ("... drew a gun on her") that turned out to be utter bullshit unless they could somehow make it stick with some kind of

guaranteed

whack - like a search that

could not fail

to turn up something. Even .09 grams.

By Friday afternoon at least three sheriff's deputies had made such a Three Stooges-style mess of "The Thompson Crime(s)" that Sheriff Braudis was frantic to get it off his hands and into the hungry maw of the D.A.

at all costs

. Even if it meant lying briefly to the D.A.'s investigator, Mike Kelly, about the bogus "gun to the head" charge against me that went up in smoke before sundown and left the D.A. no options except a 100 percent sure

search

.

Indeed, Kelly had been hung out to dry again: unless he could come up with at least one felony, and never mind that rumor about use in the home. It was too flimsy. Only a search would do the trick - drive a stake right through the monster's heart.

Yeah, it was

you

, Charley. I'm going to send Braudis forty silver dimes wrapped up in that nice new corduroy sheriff's hat he gave me.

Indeed - and don't even think of making me a doomed symbol of some giddy liberal crusade for "Your Right to Use Drugs in the Home," etc.

Not me, Jack. All I care about is not being raided by cops for provably wrong and evil reasons that still fester in the once-righteous heart of Mike Kelly. He knows he was suckered by Braudis and now yearns for a chance to roll over and confess.

Let me remind you, counselor, that John Scopes lost the "Monkey Trial." He was convicted and fined $100 - then released on probation to a chain gang near Waycross, Georgia, where he soon ran afoul of the rules and was red-flagged and stabbed to death by a liberal prisoner who claimed to love him like a brother against all odds and forever... But what the hell? Forever is like a dime in the fast lane, and the Times, of course, were changing...

This low-rent treacherous case should be thrown out in the first twenty minutes of the preliminary hearing. Judge Crater would croak it in ten... No guilt, no business,

No Parasan

... Thanx.

-Doc

Not Voting: I Am Innocent, SE-Asians, Remembrance, pirate mollie, buldermar

With 5 alive, it takes 3 to lynch.
Deadline is on Sunday, June 16th at 8:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

I'll probably be opening this early, like around 4 or 5 PM EST, as I am going to the casino tomorrow night before I get my gaming license later next week.

[Majiffy]

Having issues trying to find this fucking interview (and subsquently, apparently also my shift button - I had to try typing "having" about seven times before I got a capital H). It may be a while. I'm resorting to Google so I can at least be sure which book I'm supposed to be looking in... I've got about five of them in front of me.

[Majiffy]

I found it! Finally, goddamnit.

[Majiffy]

No thanks to Google, of course.

Going to write the day flavor and open the thread after dinner.

[Majiffy]

There we go let me just uhhh

[Majiffy]

There we go anddd

[Majiffy]

Almost there...

[Majiffy]

Not Voting: I Am Innocent, SE-Asians, Remembrance, pirate mollie, buldermar

With 5 alive, it takes 3 to lynch.
Deadline is on Sunday, June 16th at 8:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Nooooboooooody knoooows

[Majiffy]

The trouble I've seeeeen

[Majiffy]

Noooooobooooody knooooows

[Majiffy]

buldermar (L-2): SE-Asians
Remembrance (L-2): I Am Innocent

Not Voting: I Am Innocent, pirate mollie, buldermar

With 5 alive, it takes 3 to lynch.
Deadline is on Sunday, June 16th at 8:00 PM EST.

[Majiffy]

Majiffy's avatar is disturbing... a lot. I just follow IaI's flowchart now. Get up, survive, and sleep.

Blame Nacho, he did this to me!

[Majiffy]

also the vote count is wrong

Bold

helps.

What's wrong with it? Looked right when I made it.

[Majiffy]

Am I gonna have to prod some bitches?

[Majiffy]

Requesting prod of Se-Asians, This game has gone on a rather long time, but an extension to get the new player up to speed would be appreciated.

Yeah I've given that slot enough prods. May be a while before we get a replacement, though. 150 pages.

Finding a replacement for SE-Asians.

[Majiffy]

By my last vote count, that isn't a hammer. So if I'm wrong someone please explain.

[Majiffy]

Sorry. I'll go back to not reading my own games.

[Majiffy]

Remembrance (L-1): I Am Innocent, pirate mollie
I Am Innocent (L-2): SE-Asians
buldermar (L-2): Remembrance

Not Voting: buldermar

With 5 alive, it takes 3 to lynch.
Deadline is on Sunday, June 16th at 8:00 PM EST.

Macmollie unvote will not be counted as it was the wrong account.

[Majiffy]

Godfuckingdamnitbuldermar.

[Majiffy]

Holy shit how did you manage that.

[Majiffy]

I'm not sure if it's the most terrible or most beautiful thing I've ever seen, really. That's something like a 20-post copy. Fuck double/triple posts, Buldermar just won the entire internets.

[Majiffy]

26 posts. In a time period lasting <60 seconds.

It's a fucking Act of God. I need to go to sleep now so I can get up for church in the morning.

Praise Jesus.

[Majiffy]

You will get serviced later.

[Majiffy]

Remembrance (L-0): I Am Innocent, buldermar, pirate mollie

I Am Innocent (L-2): SE-Asians
buldermar (L-1): Remembrance

Not Voting:

With 5 alive, it takes 3 to lynch.
Deadline is on Sunday, June 16th at 8:00 PM EST.

The Emergence of Mankiewicz

Mankiewicz - A forty-seven year old Los Angeles lawyer who was Director of the Peace Corps before he became Bobby Kennedy's press secretary in 1968 - has held various job-titles since the McGovern campaign got underway last year. For a while he was "Press Secretary", then he was called the "Campaign Manager" - but now he appears to feel comfortable with the title of "Political Director". Which hardly matters, because he has become George McGovern's alter ego. There are people filling all the conventional job-slots, but they are essentially front-men. Frank Mankiewicz is to McGovern what John Mitchell is to Nixon - the Man behind the Man.

Two weeks before voting day in New Hampshire, Mankiewicz was telling his friends that he expected McGovern to get 38 percent of the vote. ... When Frank laid this prediction on his friends in the Washington Journalism Establishment, they figured he was merely doing his job - trying to con the press and hopefully drum up a last minute surge for McGovern, the only candidate in '72 presidential race who had any real claim on the residual loyalties of the so-called "Kennedy Machine". ... So Frank Mankiewicz ascended to the Instant-Guru level on the morning of March 8th, when the final New Hampshire tally showed McGovern with 37.5 percent of the Democratic primary vote, and "front-runner" Ed Muskie with only 47 percent.

Remembrance was Frank Mankiewicz,

Town Doctor.

[Majiffy]

Night 5: Woody Creek, 2003

The Mailbox: Louisville, Summer of 1946

My parents were decent people, and I was raised, like my friends, to believe that the Police were our friends and protectors - the Badge was a symbol of extremely high authority, perhaps the highest of all. Nobody ever asked

why

. It was one of those unnatural questions better left alone. If you had to ask

that

, you were sure as hell guilty of

something

and should have been put behind bars a long time ago. It was a no-win situation.

My first face-to-face confrontation with the FBI occurred when I was nine years old. Two grim-looking Agents came to our house and terrified my parents by saying that I was a "prime suspect" in the case of a Federal Mailbox being turned over in the path of a speeding bus. It was a Federal Offense, they said, and carried a five-year prison sentence.

...

"Why deny it, Hunter?" said one of the FBI agents. "We know

exactly

what happened up there on that corner on Saturday. Your buddies already confessed, son. They

squealed

on you."

...

It was a magic moment in my life, a defining instant for me or any nine-year-old boy growing up in the 1940s after World War II.

...

"Who?" I said. "What witnesses?"

It was not a hell of a lot to ask, under those circumstances - and I really did want to know exactly who among my and blood brothers ... has really gone belly up and rolled on me. ... So I asked again. "Witnesses? What witnesses?"

...

We never saw those FBI agents again. Never. And I learned a powerful lesson: Never believe the first thing an FBI agent tells you about anything - especially not if he seems to believe you are guilty of a crime.

Night 5 begins now, deadline is Thursday, June 20th at 6 PM EDT.

[Majiffy]

Insert Impressive Title Here

I couldn't find anything on Tim Crouse feeding Thompson large quantities of drugs during the '72 campaign on a quick breeze-through, so you're just going to have to trust that at some point in time in 1972 the two gentlemen were partaking in a lot of illegal fun.

GuyInFreezer was Timothy Crouse,

Doctor.

[Majiffy]

Day 6: Woody Creek, 2005

Football Season Is Over

No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax — This won’t hurt.

[Majiffy]

Not Voting: I Am Innocent, buldermar, pirate mollie

With 3 alive, it takes 2 to lynch.
Deadline is on Thursday, July 4th at 10:30 PM EDT.

[Majiffy]

<3

[Majiffy]

The Making of the Menace, 1965

In any gathering of Hell's Angels, from five to a possible hundred and fifty, there is no doubt who is running the show: Ralph "Sonny" Barger, the Maximum Leader, a six-foot, 170-pound warehouseman from East Oakland, the coolest head in the lot, and a tough, quick-thinking dealer when any action starts. By turns he is a fanatic, a philosopher, a brawler, a shred compromiser and a final arbitrator. To the Oakland Angels is Ralph. Everybody else calls him Sonny... although when the party gets and loose he answers to names such as Prez, Papa and Daddy. Barger's word goes unquestioned, although many of the others could take him in two minutes if it ever came to a fight. But it never does. He rarely raises his voice - except in a rumble with outsiders. Any dissenters in the ranks are handled quietly at the regular Friday-night meetings, or they simply fade out of the picture and change their life patterns so as never again cross paths with any group of Angels.

IAmInnocent was Ralph "Sonny" Barger,

Town Cop.

The Witness III

The Witness case turned on the day they decided to search the house, the day I got arrested. I got in such a rage that it was war. From then on I was in a kill-or-be-killed scenario; until then I hadn't really paid much attention to it. It was a bag of shit. But my own lawyer got me busted. He invited me down to the courthouse to be taken and fingerprinted. I knew I was in trouble. So from then on it was just that rage. I don't know if that's good or bad. It's focus and concentration. It was a little bit like the Mailbox - when I made that decision to ask, "What Witnesses?" That eerie soliloquy... "It's a matter of taste". It always boils down to a matter of taste.

The Mailbox incident was a confidence builder, I think, but it didn't teach me that I was smarter than they were. It taught me that they were not as smart as they thought they were. I did not plead guilty on that one, and I got into the habit of that.

...

There are a lot of jackasses in the world who think they are smarter than I am. There are a lot of smart cops. But most of them don't get into this kind of chickenshit case.

pirate mollie was Gail "The Witness" Palmer,

Town Cop.

Public Floggings I Have Known

Okay, Colonel - Good work on your brutal publicity. Kick the shit out of five or six more of those rotters & you'll make the cover of

Time

.

Maybe you want to come to CUBA this weekend & help me write my new honky-tonk song: "Jesus Hated Bald Pussy".

Anyway, this act with the

Plank

might have some legs. Let's give it a whirl in HAVANA. We could both load up on Absinth and & trash a nice suite in the

Hotel Nacional

. Invite 50 or 60 Beautiful People to a party/celebration in honor of Che Guevara, which then "got out of hand". DEPP JAILED AFTER ORGY IN CUBA, PROSTITUTES SEIZED AFTER MELEE IN PENTHOUSE, ACTOR DENIES TREASON CHARGES.

Why not?

Buldermar was Johnny Depp,

Mafia Goon.

[Majiffy]

3 Goons, 5 Cops, 5 Docs

1. Nachomamma8 - Richard Daley -

Night 1 Town Doctor

2. Remembrance - Frank Mankiewicz -

Night 1 Town Doctor

3. mantisdreamz - Ken Kesey -

Night 5 Town Doctor

4. buldermar - Johnny Depp -

Mafia Goon

5. jon_h61 - Pat Buchanan -

Night 4 Town Cop

6. pirate mollie - Gail "The Witness" Palmer -

Night 1 Town Cop

7. I Am Innocent - Ralph "Sonny" Barger -

Night 2 Town Cop

8. RachMarie - Jann Wenner -

Night 2 Town Cop

9. GIF - Timothy Crouse -

Night 5 Town Doctor

10. Fate - Joe Edwards -

Mafia Goon

11. Human Destroyer - Richard Nixon -

Night 3 Town Cop

12. Wisdom - Paul Scanlon -

Night 3 Town Doctor

13. kuror0 - George McGovern -

Mafia Goon

Night Actions

N1
Remembrance protects Nachomamma8
pirate mollie investigates Fate
Nachomamma8 protects pirate mollie
buldermar kills Wisdom

N2
I Am Innocent investigates HumanDestroyer
Buldermar kills Nachomamma8

N3
HD investigates SE-Asians
Buldermar kills HumanDestroyer

N4
Buldermar kills jon_h61
jon_h61 investigates IaI

N5
GIF protects Mollie
buldermar kills GIF

Dead QT
Mafia QT

[Majiffy]

Sources

All written by Hunter S. Thompson except where noted.

Hells Angels: A Strange And Terrible Saga (1966)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Strange Journey to the Heart of the American Dream (1971)
Fear and Loathing: On The Campaign Trail '72 (1973)
The Great Shark Hunt: Strange Tales from a Strange Time, Gonzo Papers, Volume 1 (1979)
Generation of Swine: Tales of Shame and Degradation in the '80's, Gonzo Papers, Volume 2 (1988)
Songs of the Doomed: More notes on the death of the American dream, The Gonzo Papers, Volume III (1990)
Kingdom of Fear: Loathsome Secrets of a Star-Crossed Child in the Final Days of the American Century (2003)

Gonzo Management, by Kevin Perry and Paul Scanlon

GQ Magazine

, 2012.

[Majiffy]

Continue prattling on amongst yourselves. Congratulations scum.

[Majiffy]

Btw if anyone really dug the flavor and would like to request I do another game focusing on just one of any of the above books, I'd be willing to do so next time I feel like modding.

[Majiffy]

Except F&L in Las Vegas, because that dead horse has been kicked enough.

[Majiffy]

<3

[Majiffy]

Yeah, what about me, mate?

[Majiffy]

Sorry ... for ... getting myself lynched.

Lol every game ever.

<3 Rach.

[Majiffy]

SOMEDAY, SOMEHOW.

ME, YOU, BORK. AND ??? ??? ??? ??? ??? ??? ???

[Majiffy]

Actually we should just make a boozemafia meet and get everyone together with lots and lots of cheap bottles... and just go at it for a weekend.

[Majiffy]

I'll make a boozemafia meet thread when I'm not thoroughly imbibed already.

[Majiffy]

Yeah well

FUCK YOU.