War on What?

I PICKED UP the phone the other day, and it was my old friend Ollie North. "What up, dude?" I asked.

"Oh, single-handedly toppling dastardly Communist regimes, diverting funds from illegal sources, the usual," he answered.

"Dude, cool! You're an American hero."

"Yeah, you say so. I'm taking all the heat for the Administration. Of course, I don't care for myself. But the moral equivalent of the Founding Fathers, the freedom fighters, are really floundering. I mean, it's not like they have any popular support--they need us!" His voice gained fervor.

"Something tells me that's why you're calling..." I like Ollie, but he's a bit of a zealot.

"You got it, babe. All this domestic flak will die down, the press will retreat when the PR shock troops open fire. But the Freedom Fight is in peril, and every true American must join battle."

"Is this another 'adopt a contra' pitch?" I complained. "Because I already send $15 a month and Jorge Julio sends me postcards from Honduras. I do my part."

"No, no, man. This is much, much bigger. It's bigger than all of us," he said, his words tumbling over each other. "We tried private war already--but like Newsweek said, too many losers and misfits were getting into it. The Freedom Fight is no place for every Joe Blow who subscribes to Soldier of Fortune. What we really need is real men and big money. You might not agree with him, but the Ayatollah is a real man. Now that source is dried up, we need a new supplier."

"What's the plan, man?"

"Crack," he announced triumphantly.

"CRACK? WHAT ARE you talking about?" I asked nervously.

"Crack! It's the latest thing. Hey, don't you read Newsweek?"

"Whoa, wait a sec, dude, slow down. What about the war on drugs? You're not suggesting that the U.S. government sell drugs to finance the rebels in Nicaragua, are you?" This time he was going too far.

"I know you're a little surprised, but who would have guessed we'd finance them with arms to Iran? The war on drugs is for women and wimps. We're fighting the war on Commies! Look, somebody's going to sell the stuff, right? Why not give the profits to the cause of freedom?"

"I don't know, dude...I don't want to get involved. I'm writing a thesis this semester, I have a lot of commitments..."

"You're the problem with this country! Look, it's failsafe. We can't use the NSC anymore, and while Shultz is in, State is out. So..."

"Not the CIA," I interrupted. "You can't use the CIA again."

"Did I say the CIA?" he asked indignantly. "I wouldn't touch them with an M-16. No, this is the beauty part. Health and Human Services!"

"What? You're going to use the Human Services Department? You don't even believe in Human Services."

"That's right! That's why they'll never look there. We hand out crack with welfare payments. Hell, instead of welfare! Pocket the checks. The President doesn't have to know. We'll make millions! It's a gold mine. Are you on board?"

Just then, I got a buzz from my call waiting. It was Nancy Reagan.

"I'll call you back, dude, okay? The Number One Lady's on the line." I switched lines.

"Hi, this is Nancy. I hate to bother you, but I need some advice. I was just thinking: maybe drugs aren't so bad..."