The Russians Were Coming. The Russians Were Coming.

Indeed, they were.

Chess has a ranking system. You’re number Two in the world. You’re contesting the number One in the world -Boris Spassky- for all the marbles. This contest is taking place in Iceland: Reykjavik. Your entourage is a colonel in the military. Plays a little chess. Spassky’s entourage? Players ranked 3–8 in the world: The Brain Trust of Chessatopia.

In Chess you get two hours to make the first forty moves. Then, a sealed move is given to the ref and off everybody goes: You to your suite to confer with a man who knows nothing. Spassky to his suite to analyze the situation with players who know everything. And everything includes the record of every game you’ve ever played in international competition.

They have got it all and they know what it is. They also have the World Champion.

How you gonna beat him, Bobby? How you gonna beat them?

The way you did.

Play new games, unfamiliar games, games they have no record of: Get Spassky in the jungle where he will be….alone. With you.

Toss the first game. Forfeit the second game. Hit your stride.

Leave your opponent …in ashes.

Nixon, via Kisssenger, had badgered you into playing. You did. You won. America won.

The Cold War victory will only be cheapened by your ungrateful country. They won’t forgive you for playing a board game in a “Patria Non Grata”. They will hunt you down until, exhausted, you limp home to….Reykjavik…to die.

But not before you showed what happens when Brilliance meets Bureaucracy.

Does the Constitution have anything to say about the Bureaucracy?


They are never to lead anything.

The Job 3.4.16