jacko Bares It All

How to succeed in politics!

Campaign '96:
How to Pick a Winner
by jacko

t was way back in 1984 when I made my first foray into politics. What a great year that was for me. My cinematic masterpiece, Schoolgirl Crush (starring John Davidson and Jaclyn Smith) was not exactly boffo at the box-office; my father's tell-all biography jacko's a jerk was number one on both the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times best-seller lists; and the tax collecting Mafia (a.k.a. the IRS) decided that I had underreported my 1980 income by about $500,000, and that I now owed them about a zillion dollars in penalties.

The Revenue Gangsters informed Murray, my accountant, that they were ready to seize my weekend home in Palm Springs, my powder blue Rolls, and my beloved dog, Woofers, unless I gave them a suitcase full of cash -- but quick. And if they could build a good case against me for tax evasion, they told me I'd be doing time instead of starlets.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Even if I sold all my houses, cars and polyester suits, I'd never be able to pay Uncle Sam that kind of protection money. Bernie, my brilliant agent, thought he could help.

"jacko...it's ssssssimple!" he hissed. Bernie, who was definitely a snake in his past life, still hasn't mastered the art of how humans speak.

"Bernie, I told you. I ain't producing no more skin flicks." (The guy just doesn't give up.)

"No, no, not that...but we can talk about that later, if you like. No, I got somethin' much bigger in mind than ssssssex!" Bernie leaned closer: "Politics, jacko. Buy yourself a politician...a con- gresssssssssman, a sssssssenator; get ya out of anything!"

Hmm, interesting idea... I hadn't thought of that. I hadn't been involved in politics since I took part in a sit-in at the Gloria Steinem City College of Detroit. (But I had just done that to meet some chicks, anyway...)

Fortunately, I did have a little pocket money (to the tune of 400 grand) stashed away in a secret account down in Panama. Forget a penny-ante congressman or senator. I decided to go after the guy who controls about a trillion dollars -- the Commander-in-Chief.

"Okay, Bernie," I said. "Pick me a winner."

Bernie buzzed his secretary. "Ssssstella? Get me Walter Mondale on the phone!"

Well, you know what happened to old Fritz. Landslide victory...for Reagan. And fat lotta good my 400 grand did with Mondale. He couldn't even keep the IRS off the back of his running mate's old man, much less me.

My accountant, Murray, was the guy who saved my butt from the Federal penal system, though. Murray connected me up with a Korean businessman who got me out of my jam, in exchange for my producing some pictures in Korea that are guaranteed never to be shown over here.

Here it is 1996, and I've benefited greatly from the lessons I learned in the Mondale/Reagan race of ‘84: If you can't pick a winner, there's nothing wrong with sticking a hundred grand or two in all of the candidates' pockets. That way whoever gets elected, they're sure to be your friend.

Whoops, gotta run. Al and Tipper are taking me and Maliba out for mint juleps in 20 minutes. We're having a little pre-election day victory celebration, prior to driving over to Bob and Libby's campaign headquarters for some vegan cocktail wieners and martinis. Politics is tough work.

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jacko and an unnamed Korean business associate are currently under investigation for illegal campaign contributions to the three major parties.

His column, jacko Bares It All, is, unfortunately, a regular feature of VegSource On-Line Magazine.