BOO, WHOM?

I do not understand why, once a year, I am expected to provide a sugar rush to every kid in the neighborhood. This is the annual fall shakedown. The bonfire of the bonbons. And should I try offering these adolescent vagabonds healthy treats like diced carrots, sliced ham, a couple cheese chunks on toothpicks or, God forbid, a little rice pilaf,  my house would be egged, my windows soaped, my cat redecorated.  What this ‘Kinder Mafia” dextrose demand is pure dextrose, a mere saccharin surplus. Their obsession with processed sugar is neither healthy nor reasonable. Oh, sure, they dress it up in fairy costumes and go door to door chanting, “Treat or trick”. But what they really mean is "Show me the Marzipan!"   This not the holiday the ancient Druid priests envisioned, nor the Aztec mortuary artists. It is not a holiday. It is sugar wealth redistribution, confectionery socialism straight out of the barrel of a gummy bear.

The roots of Halloween were planted long before Christians had enough saints to celebrate "All Hallowed Saint’s Day". The Aztecs were celebrating Dia de los Muertos even before they were speaking Spanish., maybe 3,000 years ago. And the Druids in Ireland were celebrating “Samhain” by carving turnip Jack-o-lanterns,  2,500 years before they saw their first pumpkin. ‘And how’, you may ask, ‘could offerings to Mictecacihuatl, the Aztec Goddess who was still born, become individually packaged bags of M&Ms’ handed out to a skeleton named Debbie or Tom?  And I will answer you, ‘Only in a world where the love child of Salvador Dali and Ma Barker is allowed to design holidays, that’s where!

This is the night for hyperventilation and hypertension - when the line between the dead and the not-really-alive (also known as moderate Republicans) becomes fuzzy, and everyone grows concerned about ghosts, spooks, ghouls and zombies entering our world.  But its common knowledge that ghosts can’t manipulate physical objects, so they can only harm you psychologically, meaning Scientologists are safe since they don’t believe in psychology. And nobody should be afraid of “spooks” because once you speak a spook’s name they are “spooken for” and rendered harmless; which is what Dick Cheney did to the spook Valerie Plame.

Now Dick Cheney is a real live ghoul, one of  those creatures who revel in death and horror and who keep coming back to life again - this time on Fox News - the network staffed by zombies. Rupert Murdoch's invention is the perfect example of how we are terrified of all the wrong things in this life - and I cannot imagine Cheney and his fellow banshees from the shadow realm of the Federalists Society will cease being such soul sucking terror mongers after they have passed beyond the veil. 

Yes, on October 31st,  I will be answering my door bearing a bowl filled with tribute, because I don’t want to spend half of November pulling toilet paper out of my rain gutters. However, we could instead of Halloween been celebrating "Reformation Day",  when, in 1546, Martin Luther nailed his “95 Things I Hate About The Pope” to the front door of the Wittenberg Castle Church and was later charged with deformation of church property. So, logically, children could be going door to door, calling, “Treat or I’ll nail your butt to the door, you papist low life, and, oh, by the way have you got any Jews hiding in here?”  A bit hard to see children squeezing candy out of that transaction.  So I guess we’re lucky we got the screwed up jawbreaker sweet meat holiday we did get..

The truth (as if that ever mattered about holidays) is that Martin Luther defiantly nailing his arguments to the church door was probably no more real than the legend of George Washington chopping down a cheery tree. Neither thing really happened. And that may be yet another reason why you never see Martin Luther costumes on Halloween Night. I did see a George Washington once, but that was so long ago the costume was probably made in the United States.

This year Americans will spend over $6 billion on this mish-mash of a holiday. Almost all of our black and orange fix, like cocaine, is provided by overseas suppliers who have no other connection to us, and although that kind of chump change would barely support the occupation of  Afghanistan for a month, it does work out to about $65 per family this year. Our family is not spending anywhere near that much, so I figure Donald Trump and his Wall Street buddies must be spending like a billion each to make up for what us po' folks are'nt  spending anymore - call them  the ghoul creators.

About 4 million Americans will even be buying costumes for their dogs this year, like PetSmart’s spider web dog collar for $12, or PetCo’s dogie Pumpkin dress- up for $16. It gives a whole new meaning to the term "Puttin' on the dog". Still, this canine costume capitalism is surprising. considering that dogs and skeletons would seem to be a natural costume combo, popular with dogs as well as the humans. And once the holiday was over you would not have to store the costume -  you just let Rover bury it.

But as a nation we seem determined to spend as much as possible on this “dead holiday thing”.  We will be putting 2 million pirates (mostly boys, and far outnumbering the original pirates) on the streets Friday night, along with 4 million princesses - mostly girls and about equal to the number of real princesses) with adults to follow behind them, as back-up muscle. At the ring of the door bell us older folks, cowering in our homes, then answer the door armed with only a half-empty bowl of bite sized Three Musketeers, and hope that is enough to buy us protection for another year.

And that is where all smart adults should be, dreading the sound that fills the night with horror and chills the bones; “Trick or treat, trick or treat, give us something good to eat. Or else.”  Yes, Trick or Treat, and bon appetit, my fellow cowering masses. And if you survive this night, you have two weeks until the next horror; election day!

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TEMPEST IN THE TEA POT

I am tempted to call his life a tempest in a tea pot. It was a “Tempest” worthy of William Shakespeare only because Albert Bacon Fall (above) was a scoundrel of operatic proportions, a self made legal sorcerer and a bombastic, selfish, fearless and vulgar cowboy Caliban. His villainous reputation was established by a mysterious double murder in the New Mexico desert. But the climax was staged on 9,480 rolling Wyoming acres along Salt Creek and adjacent to a subterranean anticline dome near an odd looking 75 foot tall sandstone butte (below). Some thought the butte resembled a tea pot, which gave its name to the scandal that finally brought our reprobate down. But the true scandal was Albert Fall's entire career.

“You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse.”

Caliban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act I, Scene 2

Near the low crest of Chalk Hill (above) the search party found a patch of blood soaked sand and some papers belonging to 57 year old Republican lawyer Albert.J. Fountain. A hundred yards further on, Mescalero Apache scouts found where a man had knelt in ambush, the shell casings still in the dust. The buggy tracks led eastward 12 miles into the Jarillas Mountains (above, bg), where the search party found the carriage “plundered and abandoned.” Still in the buggy was a note reading, “If you drop this we will be your friends. If you go on with it you will never reach home alive.” And stuffed under the seat was a kerchief wrapped around some change, belonging to 8 year old Henry Fountain. Neither the father's nor the son's body was ever found.

“The clouds methought would open and show riches, Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's The Tempest, Act III, Scene 2

When he was accused of masterminding the 1896 double homicide, Albert Fall said it was just Republicans trying to “crucify innocent Democrats”. The criminal indictments Fountain had just secured against 23 clients and friends of Albert Fall were likewise dismissed as political. In a courthouse jammed with the alleged killers allies, threatened and intimidated witnesses simply failed to show up. Albert Fall still managed to be arrogant and offensive in his one sided victory. The Democrats were all found not guilty. And then, two years later, Albert Fall switched parties and became a Republican. And all his friends found it profitable to go with him.

“I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island; And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act II, Scene 2

After having fought statehood for years, in 1912 Albert Fall became one of New Mexico's first elected U.S. Senators. In Washington, D.C., Albert became famous for two things - his alcohol fueled poker parties with Ohio Senator Warren G. Harding, and his unrelenting animosity toward Democratic President Woodrow Wilson. When Wilson suffered a stroke in 1919, Albert alleged he had been rendered incompetent. At their October examination, Senator Fall assured the bedridden Wilson, “I have been praying for you, Sir.” Looking up at his torturer, Wilson inquired, “Which way, Senator?” Albert joined in the laughter, but in November of 1920 it was Republican Warren G. Harding who was elected President.

“Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban, Has a new master: get a new man. Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom!”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act II, Scene 2

Harding wanted Albert Fall to be his Secretary of State, but party leaders insisted on someone more trustworthy. Said Harding, “If Albert Fall isn't an honest man, I'm not fit to be President of the United States.” So Harding named Albert his Secretary of the Department of the Interior, a branch of government Albert had been denouncing for decades. Almost the first thing after taking the oath in the spring of 1921 (above), Secretary Fall cajoled Harding into giving Interior control over the U.S. Naval Oil Reserves in California and Wyoming. Fall then quickly granted a no-bid lease for the two reserves in California to oilman Edward Doheny, and in December Albert did the same for oilman Harry Ford Sinclair, granting him sole access to the Tea Pot Dome field, Naval Reserve Number Three.

“Do that good mischief which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban, For aye thy foot-licker.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act IV, Scene 1

In the spring of 1922, the railroad town of Casper, Wyoming, 35 miles south of the dome, was abuzz with rumors of equipment bearing the name Mammoth Oil Company which had suddenly invaded the naval reserve. Competitors like New Yorker James Darden quickly pierced that deception, and certain the lease was not legal, Colonel Darden decided to become Sinclair's unofficial partner by drilling his own well sideways, into the dome. As Fall himself explained, “Sir, if you have a milkshake and I have a milkshake and my straw reaches across the room, I’ll end up drinking your milkshake."

“I will have none on't: we shall lose our time, And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes With foreheads villanous low.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act IV Scene 1

The problem for Secretary Fall was the “low down son-of-a-bitch” Darden “was an old friend of President Harding. So on a Saturday afternoon, while the Secretary of the Navy was out of the office, Fall told the the Acting Secretary that Harding wanted “squatters” thrown off the dome. Fall added there was ample legal precedent for using U.S. Marines for this duty. There was none, but Fall showed no reluctance in lying to make a profit. Within the week Captain George K. Shuler and four enlisted marines were slapping “No Trespassing” signs and padlocks on Colonel Darden's well. And because this was done in front of reporters, Albert Fall had finally taken one step too far.

I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my

heart to beat him

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act II Scene 2

Long annoyed by Fall's arrogance, the Senate majority Republicans allowed a Wilson supporter from Montana, Democratic Senator Thomas Walsh (below), to investigate the oil leases. And when Walsh issued his first subpoena for documents, Fall responded by burying Walsh in a literal truck load of paper. It slowed Walsh, but Darden's complaints finally caused Harding to separate himself from his old drinking buddy. In March of 1923, Albert Fall was forced to resign from the cabinet, first going to work for Harry Sinclair and then returning to his 750,000 acre southern New Mexico ranch, Three Rivers. And then, in August of 1923, President Harding dropped dead of a heart attack. The new President, Calvin Coolidge, decided to treat Albert as the fall guy, sacrificing him to the growing public outcry over fraud in the Harding administration of Justice and Veteran's Affairs.

“How does thy honor? Let me lick thy shoe.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III Scene 2

The truck load of documents supplied to Senator Walsh provided enough heat to keep the scandal simmering for two years. Called before the committee three times Albert swore under oath - once in writing - that he had done nothing illegal. But late in 1925 questions began to be asked about the number of improvements to Fall's Three Rivers ranch. When put under oath Albert's own son-in-law, M.T. Everhard, was forced to admit he had accepted $198,000 in federal bonds from Harry Sinclair's own hand, and delivered them to Secretary Fall's own hand. There was also a no interest “loan” of $36,000 from Sinclair, and one of $100,000 in cash from Edward Doheny, the little black bag delivered to Fall at Three Rivers by Edward Doheny's son Ned, and his friend and body guard Hugh Plunket. In 1927 the Supreme Court ruled the leases on all three reserves were invalid, and control went back to the U.S. Navy.

“Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log, Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember, First to possess his books; for without them He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not One spirit to command: they all do hate him, As rootedly as I — burn but his books.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III, Scene 2

When the federal case went to trial in Los Angeles in 1930. humorist Will Rodgers cracked that Doney's defense team took up three full Pullman railroad cars. The first car was “Just for the little lawyers...to carry the brief cases.” In the third car, said Rodgers, were “the big ones that were in real touch with Mr. Doheny.” Harry Sinclair's defense team in his Cheyenne, Wyoming trial, took up at least four Pullman cars, according to Rodgers.

Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my valiant monster would destroy thee: I do not lie.

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III Scene 2

Edward Doheny paid a high price for his involvement with Albert Fall. In 1929, under pressure by prosecutors for one of them to turn on their fellow conspirator, Ned Doheny and Hugh Plunket died in what appeared to be a murder/suicide. The next year, when Edward was not only found not guilty of bribery, but the jury broke into song after rendering their decision, the old oil man did not have the heart to celebrate. One disgusted U.S. Senator was prompted to observe, “It is impossible to convict a million dollars in the United States“   Edward Doheny served just 3 months for contempt of Congress, but never recovered from the death of his only son. He died in September of 1935, still one of the richest men in Southern California.

“I'll not serve him, he is not valiant.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III Scene 2

In Wyoming, Harry Sinclair (above) received a mistrial after it was discovered his private detectives had been shadowing members of the jury. He was never retried for the bribery, but he was sentenced to six months for contempt, which he served in the District of Columbia city jail. He also died one of the richest men in Southern California, in January of 1949

“What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god And worship this dull fool!”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act V Scene 1

Albert Bacon Fall was the only member of an administration awash in bribes, arrogant enough and clumsy enough to be convicted of accepting a bribe. He remains the only cabinet member in American History sentenced to prison for crimes committed while in office. He served nine months. When he was released in May of 1932, Doheny repossessed Fall's beloved Three Rivers ranch for not repaying the bribe, for which Doheny had been found “not guilty” of paying him. Fall died a broke, sick old man, at the end of November, 1944, arguing to the last that his conviction was just political payback. I doubt that Albert and Henry Fountain, still alone somewhere out there in the New Mexico desert, would agree.

“Flout 'em and scout 'em, And scout 'em and flout 'em, Thought is free.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act V Scene 1

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TIGER BY THE TALE

I don't believe Samuel Dickstein was a communist. In fact the diminutive eleven term nattily dressed Congressman was the creator of the infamous, virulent anti-communist House Un-American Activities Committee. His primary justification in creating this step child of democracy was to combat Nazi infiltration of American politics, but he also called communists “high binders and hoodlums”, and once invited several communist party members to his home, where he welcomed them with subpoenas printed on pink paper. So, I see little evidence that Dickstein was a communist. He was an arrogant, loud obnoxious bully, with the morals of an investment banker. He took took money from the Communists, but for him that was just business. You see, Samuel Dickstein, was very aptly named.

“Hiawatha was an Indian, so was Navajo. Paleface organ-grinders killed them many moons ago; But there is a band of Indians that will never die. When they're at the Indian Club, Big Chief sits in his tepee, and this is their battle cry: Tammany, Tammany. Swamp 'em, swamp 'em, Get the wampum, Tammany!”

Samuel Dickstein was one of last tigers promoted by Tammany Hall chief “Silent Charlie” Murphy (above). “Ominously shrouded in silence, mystery and power”, Commissioner Murphy commanded the machine which had dominated New York politics since Aron Burr, in 1797. Mr. Murphy followed a simple rule: “Never write when you can speak. Never speak when you can nod. Never nod when you can blink”. In fact, that was about the only thing Charles Murphy was ever quoted as saying. One fourth of July, when the Commissioner did not join in singing the national anthem, a supporter nervously suggested, “Maybe Murphy didn't want to commit himself”. But in 1922 the taciturn Murphy committed to his his doppelganger, the diminutive, argumentative, loud and often offensive state representative Samuel Dickstein, to be Tammany Hall's federal Congressman from the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

“On the island of Manhattan by the bitter sea, Lived this tribe of noble Red Men, tribe of Tammany,

From the Totem of the Greenlight,  Wampum they would bring,”

The Lithuanian born Samuel Dickstein (above) was an early member of the two million Ashkenazim Jews driven out of Russia and Poland, who came to America   Between 1880 and 1923, as many as 110,000 new Yiddish speakers a year poured into the cramped neighborhood bordered by the East River, 14th Street on the north, Houston Street on the south and Greenwich Village and Astor Place to the west - the 12^th Congressional district of the cantor's son, Samuel Dickstein.  So intense was life on the Lower East Side, it was the source for the modern image of American Jews.  Beginning in 1905, when the Williamsburg Bridge opened, the upwardly mobile residents crossed to newer and larger apartments in Brooklyn. Then, in 1924, new antisemitic immigration laws chocked off the flood of new arrivals. . Just as his congressional career was beginning, Samuel Dickstein's base was shifting.

“When their big Chief Man Behind, They would pass the pipe and sing. Tammany, Tammany. Swamp 'em, swamp 'em, Get the wampum, Tammany!”

At the urging of Tammany Hall, the freshman Congressman was appointed to the Immigration and Naturalization Committee.  Dickstein's constituents favored liberal immigration laws. Fellow committee member, the bombastic Texas Democrat Thomas Blanton, insisted some of his best friends were Jews, but he wanted to stop all immigration for ten years. “Let us assimilate those we have before we take in others,” he argued.   The restrictive yearly immigration quotas of 1924 were a compromise in the cultural wars of the roaring twenties.

“If we'd let the women vote, they would all get rich soon. Think how old man Platt gave all his money to a con. Mrs. chadwick is a girl, who'd lead in politics. She could show our politicians lots of little tricks, the Wall street vote she'd fix.”

Just a year later, in August of 1925, “The Saturday Evening Post” noted the new rules had produced a gray market, fueled by 10,000 desperate transients in Canada, willing to pay $500 for a permit to legally cross the U.S. border . Dickstein (above, center) told Time Magazine another 40,000 had already been smuggled in from Cuba. And he should know, because he was already profiting by selling entrance visas out of his capital hill office. His capitalistic enterprise grew even larger after Saturday, 4 March, 1933, when the 73^rd Congress was sworn in and Samuel Dickstein became Chairman of the Immigration and Naturalization Committee. He was already disliked because of what Rep. Lindsay Warren of North Carolina called his ““itch and flair for publicity and advertisement.”.

“Tammany, Tammany, Stick together at the poll, you'll have long green wampum rolls. Tammany, Tammany. Politicians get positions.”

Still looking for a wedge issue, in a December 1933 radio broadcast, Dickstein called Nazi Germany “the most dangerous threat to our democracy that has ever existed”, and added, “I will name you 100 (Nazi) spies who have entered this country....”  The response in his district was so positive that in March of 1934, he proposed spending $25,000 for an investigation of  “Un-American Activities” by Nazi agents . But few in 1934 thought Hitler posed a threat. After meeting the German Chancellor, newspaper magnate William Randolph Hurst said only “Hitler is certainly an extraordinary man.”  In response to Dickstein's motion, Congressman Blanton mocked “the so-called persecution of the Jews in Germany”.  Dickstein then challenged Blanton to step outside for a fist fight. United Press reported that one party leader mused, “ I'm still undecided which is worse... to allow more Dicksteins to come in, or...raise more home-grown Blanton's” 

“Chris Columbo sailed from Spain, across the deep blue sea, Brought along the Dago vote to beat out Tammy. Tammany found Columbo's crew were living on a boat, Big Chief said: "They're floaters," and he would not let them vote, To the tribe he wrote.”

In the end the “Un-American Activities” Committee was authorized, but given just $10,000, and Dickstein (above)  was forced to share the chairmanship with Representative John McCormack, an Irish Catholic from South Boston. After the vote, when Dickstein asked for three minutes to make some closing remarks, the House voted him down.

“Tammany, Tammany. Get those Dagoes jobs at once, they can vote in twelve more months. Tammany, Tammany, Make those floaters Tammany voters, Tammany”

Still, between 26 April and 29 December, 1934, the committee heard testimony that Nazi Minister of Propaganda, Joseph Goebbels, had hired an American lobbyist to put a positive spin on the burning of Jewish shops and synagogues, that Rep. Louis McFadden of Pennsylvania had allowed the Iowa Nazi “Silver Shirts of America” to use his franking privileges to mail antisemitic, pro-Nazi propaganda for free, that thugs had silenced anti-Hitler sentiments in the German-American community. But after 4,300 pages of testimony, McCormack kept the conclusions of the final report conservative - “To the true and real American, communism, Nazism, and fascism are all equally dangerous...equally unacceptable to American institutions.” And as quickly as that bland statement was issued, Samuel Dickstein had lost his wedge issue.

“Fifteen thousand Irishmen from Erin came across, Tammany put these Irish Indians on the Police force. I asked one cop, if he wanted three potatoes or four, He said, "Keep your old potatoes, I've got a cuspidor, What would I want with more?"

As the 1936 elections approached, a letter to the New York Herald Tribune labeled Dickstein;s claims of Nazi subversion as “red herrings...to keep his name on the front page”, and Rep. Maury Maverick of Texas called his claims “just a lot of noise...”. Dickstein responded by naming 46 Nazi “propagandists, agents, stool pigeons and spies” at work in America. The Herald noted Dickstein's list had shrunk, and added, “With cooler weather, it may shrink further”. In fact most of the names had been published earlier in the book “The Brown Network”, by William Francis Hare, who had served in British Intelligence. Dickstein's constituents did not seem to mind. They re-elected him that November with 86% of the vote.

“Tammany, Tammany. Your policeman can't be beat, They can sleep on any street. Tammany, Tammany, Dusk is creeping, they're all sleeping, Tammany.”

In the summer of 1937 Dickstein was approached by an Austrian member of the Communist Party, seeking to obtain American citizenship. Dickstein agreed to help, for $3,000. The Soviet Security Agents, the NKVD, learned that Dickstein headed “a criminal gang that was involved in...selling passports, illegal smuggling of people...”. Evidently Dickstein knew of their interest, because over the Christmas holidays he offered his services to them. The NKVD station chief, Gaik Ovakimyan, felt the need to warn his bosses, “We are fully aware of whom we are dealing with...This is an unscrupulous type, greedy for money...a very cunning swindler.” They eventually agreed to pay him $1,250 a month, at a time the average American family survived on less than $180 a month  Dickstein was given the Russian code name, “Zhulik” - in English, Crook.

“When Reformers think its time to show activity, They blame everything that's bad on poor old Tammany. All the farmers think that Tammy caused old Adam's fall. They say when a bad man dies he goes to Tammany Hall, Tammany's blamed for all.”

With another election cycle coming up in 1938, Dickstein urged Congress to fund another investigation. They did, but appointed the staunch anticommunist Texas Democrat Martin Dies as its Chairman. Dickstien was not even offered a seat on the new House Un-American Activities Commission (HUAC). His new Soviet contact, Peter Gitzeit, was disappointed, even after Dickstein dutifully denounced the Dies Committee as “a Red-baiting excursion”. And still, Dickstein kept asking for more money. Gitzeit cabled Moscow that the Congressman claimed he had sold information to Polish and British Intelligence “and was paid good money without any questions.” But clearly Gitzeit was fed up with the egotist, telling Moscow, “Apparently, he really managed to fool the Poles and the English”  In February of 1940, the NKVD stopped returning Dickstein's calls.

“Tammany, Tammany, When a farmer's tax is due, he puts all the blame on you. Tammany, Tammany, On the level you're a devil, Tammany.”

Samuel Dickstein left Congress in 1945, after he was redistricted out of office. The Tammany Hall machine secured him a seat on the New York State Supreme Court, a position he still held when he died at the age of 69, on 22 April, 1954. The Tammany Hall machine kept clunking along for another twenty years until it was finally dismantled. And as we all know, ever since, politics in the state of New York have been as pure as the driven snow.

“Tammany's chief is digging out a railroad station here, He shuts off the water mains there, on folks who can't buy beer. He put in steam shovels, to lay off the workingmen. Tammany will never see a chief like him again, He's the poor man's friend.”

On that same Thursday, 22 April 1954, in Washington, D.C., the United States Senate held the first session of the Army-McCarthy Hearings. Joseph McCarthy (above), the junior Senator from Wisconsin, had first blazed onto the scene with a 1950 speech in Wheeling ,West Virginia, in which he claimed to have a list of either 205 or 57 communists working at the U.S. State Department. McCarthy's blend of bombast and arrogance should have sounded familiar to the constituents of New York's old 12th district. But “Tail Gunner” Joe was far more successful that Samuel Dickstein. McCarthy was not distracted by fortune hunting – the new kid on the block was only interested in fame.

“Tammany, Tammany. Murphy is your big Chief's name, he's a Rothschild just the same. Tammany, Tammany, Willie Hearst will do his worst to Tammany.”

Tammany Hall Words by Vincent Bryan Music by Gus Edwards 1903

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