Caution: Some Potato Chips May Be Watching You

the annual budget in 2013 for the C.I.A. was 15 billion dollars? Billion. That, my friend, is one juicy Poker Pot. Plus, along with the power windows and steering, there were 21,175 employees (at that time) that could be accounted for. Can’t discuss those employees who do not exist. Wink! Wink! Nor the two facts—15 billion in 2013, in 2017, add 20 billion to that and the second fact: 21,175 employees (accounted for), by now in same year, 2017, add 50 more thousand to the first number. This proves that the C.I.A. is growing. There’s no mistake in that.

Truth Exposed: The C.I.A. is not about secret surveillance, wire-tapping, researching the Famous and the Fitlhy. The C.I.A. is Really in the Magic Business. These people know everything that’s known about How to Disappear and Reappear all without creating a nasty cloud of smoke or bringing unwanted attention to themselves. Talking to a C.I.A. Operative on the street is similar to talking to “Joe Average,” but when other C.I.A. Operatives meet in dark places, their language and wisdom is much higher than if you had a Phd in European Poetry--French poetry from 1883, your forte.

What I just wrote (toward the last of the above paragraph) was another Slick Trick mastered by C.I.A. Ops: Misdirection. They are the best at this kind of thing. I knew that those last two sentences were primed and ready to be chewed up by you, the anxious reader who understood as much as Owen Wilson does when he appears in any of his films. Why shouldn’t he act all out there and out of touch? He’s Mega-Rich, honey. They can get away with murder. Wink! Wink!

Being aligned with the C.I.A., you know better than to talk at all. Talk is dangerous. Remember those Naval wall posters dating back to Dec. 1941, about “Loose lips sinking ships?” This one bit of wisdom, although has been mocked, is very wise and never fails to work. Just keep in mind about Henry Ford and his son, Edsel and the Edsel automobile that he designed. There were a lot of loose lips when someone very sneaking discovered the blueprints for the Edsel . . .and when it was on the market, no amount of loose lips could stop that massive public debacle. It’s best the next time you are standing in a long line in the pharmacy awaiting to purchase your Legal Pharmaceuticals and this average-looking, middle-aged guy walks up and says, “can I get the time?” You automatically look, as if some higher power somewhere has trained you like a cute puppy, at your faithful watch, you tell “Average Joe,”the time and he disappears. Or did he? Wink! Wink! You have just been allegedly-used by a C.I.A. Op who has studied this pharmacy for years—looking for that loose-lipped Pharmacist who has just graduated and is eager to make a name for himself. Be careful of anyone who asks you for the time, is all I am saying.

. . .remember the cult classic, The Manchurian Candidate, in 1962, starring Lawrence Harvey; a young Angela “Murder, She Wrote” Lansbury and James “Inspector Luger” Gregory? The cast list reads a lot like most of the sitcom’s on CBS in the early 1950s throughout the 1960s. Slick, man. Really slick. But no William Hopper. Not many film studios can lay claim to that fact. Do you ever think that CBS has ever sat back and the C.E.O. shook hands with his underlings and I mean from the Immediate Office Personnel (the IOP) to the Parking Lot Attendants? This is a serious thing. I think that since we now have a decisive president in Donald Trump, proper legislation should be voted on without filibuster on the majority of bills that he is just itching to introduce into our lives.

The C.I.A. has been belittled, mocked, and many times held up to ridicule for simply doing what needed to be done and met with anger and vehement verbiage from the Left who just wanted us to be quiet and get along with whatever band of cut-throats (in disguise of a Tyrant or Businessman) smiling like a wild jackass having a gas attack from indulging on oats and molasses. The C.I.A. has been dragged through much mud, my fellow Americans, and this American is one citizen who is proud to stand up and say “YES,” to C.I.A. doing the work that someone wouldn’t do. Bravo!

Then you have those Spy Thrillers: the 25 “007” films with Sean Connery; Roger Moore and Pierce Brosnan as “James Bond,” but not all at one time. Of course, you had those Spy Thriller knock-offs: “In Like Flint,” with James Coburn as “Derek Flint,” and Dean Martin as “Matt Helm,” these were pretty much status pro quo, but providing a great 140 minutes of pure entertainment for the low, low cost of $4.50 back in the Sixties when movies were affordable. But as you and your family were sitting quietly enjoying a SpyThriller, did you ever stop to realize that the very film projector that you never saw was really watching you? And this can be proven, so do not cross your arms and leave in a huff.

These films, I tell you, folks, all had a certain segment where the film’s star, “The Main Spy,” who visited with a Science Expert, “Tedd,” who knew the everything about Secret Weaponry and the star, while smoking a cigarette or two, listened to a “Mr. D.,” (meaning Dull), wearing a long, white lab coat which meant that he knew what he was talking about and told the “Main Spy,” about his newest line of Secret Weapons—an Exploding Shoelaces; a Pair of Pants when the “Main Spy” squeezed his legs together or squatted, a Powerful Knock-out Gas would come out of the pants’ fabric sealing the star’s smooth escape. And even now, you think that the C.I.A. had no interaction with Hollywood’s major film studios in how to make the above “weapons,” flying cars and even using a Body Double for the Star Spy if the script was needed for such a thing—but in (that) society, a few light years ago, Body Doubles were not used due to how it might be misinterpreted and the children of these families who loved the Spy Thriller films might grow up with a severe Psychological Trauma.

Many might have have been sucked into these Ian Fleming films thinking that our own C.I.A. could never invent or pull anything like we have seen in these films . . .and you would be WRONG! Who do you think advised these producers and film studios to film such a glamorous story about Undercover Work Performed by Mostly-Obscure People? It was the C.I.A. Not “Mr. Rogers,” although Fred Rogers (in person) would have passed for a C.I.A. operative. But you can bet your last Twenty-Two Bucks that even as you read this narrative that our friends in the CIA. Are working on weapons and Undercover Plans that would make your head spin. Please excuse me while I turn into a Giant Grasshopper—I am working as a Cheesy Creature on the side along with hoping to make some serious bucks with narratives like this one.

Do you recall my friend, “Joe,” my former Marine friend and Vietnam vet? I wrote you about him not long ago and during that very informative talk with him, he shared one treasured secret that he somehow learned (while in Vietnam)--and the information was so deep that I felt as if I were going to be hauled out of my warm bed (that very night) and taken to an Underground Facility somewhere near Upper New York State called Camp Hero, a state park located on Montauk Point, New York. The park occupies a portion of the former Montauk Air Force Station.

Upon reaching this Hero place, my blind-fold, black in color, of course, would have been taken off and I would be subjected to numerous laborious hours of painful interrogation—among the things my captors would have used on me to get me to talk loosely about my life, school, and background of my parents, were Food Deprivation; Being Forced to Sleep 12 Hours a Day and worse tortures such as making me look at stacks and stacks of scrapbooks with pages of black and white family photos of people whom I had never met. Things as horrible as these things would have broken G. Gordon Liddy.

What “Joe” was very upfront about was a thing called, “Obscure Observation,” which was, according to “Joe,” a C.I.A. “sleeper agent,” (an operative who lies about defecting from our country to some Communist country—then live and work in that country for years and then, when the sky was blue, a signal from his C.I.A. handlers would have him execute his master plan) or be trained by Expert Espionage Trainers who knew how to teach their agents how to live such an obscure lifestyle that they could pretty much do as they wanted without any repercussions. Pretty serious stuff, if you ask me.

And what made (this) memory surface last month was when I was visiting our local Walmart and I just wanted to shop in the Chip and Cookie Aisle, so as I was walking toward the shelves of my favorite chip, (and since I would be accused of publishing spammy elements---I shall pretend to ask myself a question and answer that question with a word that will tell you my favorite brand of chips:

“Hey, Ken, how many hours do you sleep in your bed?”

“Sleep? Oh, I ‘Lay’s’ there for around six hours and then go right to sleep.”

Did you get that Secret Chip Brand, or was my Obscure Observation talents so sharp that you were fooled?

As I stood there motionless, I thought to myself, right there, in front of me, sits The most Clever, Diabolical, and Strategic Plan on securing information from those who might want to talk and go against our Democratic way of life. A plan that I should have thought of myself back in my younger, high school years—before my mind and imagination was mostly smothered by visions of dating a few older brunette women who lived in my hometown. They were at 30, but looked every bit of 22. And with those obvious loop earrings and lots of sultry eye make-up, I was way too deep in thought to think of anything else.

Then my mind kicked into high gear and it hit me like someone who had hurled a rock at me. I began to think, (in sensible terms), about How Great it Would be if I were to Be Trained to Look Just Like a Potato Chip. Go on. Yukk yourself to the floor. I can tell you with full assurance, This Plan will work. What could stop me from succeeding?

I could sit (or stand) there in plain view of that store’s customers pushing their shopping carts—ones with a bad wheel, and I would be able to watch it all unfold without being discovered. I would out-spy the best “James Bond” plot ever to be put on film. I would even make “Danny Ocean” and his team of Smooth Thugs look foolish at how easily I was able to see who I wanted to see and write it all down without being detected.

Me. A potato chip? Not just (a) potato chip, but a “Ci-Lip,” a confusing name for such a natural as it pertains to working in Culvert Operations. . .and say my name and the Hip, Hop influence will hit you instantly.

“Hey, Ci-Lip,’ whatsssuppppp?”

“Word, Know-whut-I’m sayin’?”

Works like the best charm to hang on a 14k bracelet. To say nothing about how many “Sleeper Cells” are actually living and working in my own hometown. There is no adjective created or inspired that can fully express just how dangerous and life-threatening my new job as a potato chip (with almost-super abilities) that could one day, save the Free World.

“Ci-Lip.” I best get used to saying that moniker around Langley when I have to “come in” from the Black Ops (that I have worked) and be debriefed. My life, friends, is about to change and I mean drastically. You never know about where I may be dispatched to do a High-End Stake-Out—and when you go Grocery Shopping and roll past the Chip Aisle . . .I might see you then wink at you.

It could happen.You believed everything about “Bond” didn’t you?

PS: before too long, the entire nation, and possibly food stores located in Tokyo will be singing the praises of the New C.I.A. Op: “Maple Syrup Flavored Potato Ci-Lip’s. Hey, what a great idea that has hit the free peoples of the world and now you can enjoy the fruits of your freedoms and still be able to see what your neighboring nation is doing by simply loading up with “Maple Flavored Potato Ci-L-ip’s! They are Delicious! Available at your nearest supermarket.

Fact: prior to Joe Collier enlisting for duty in the Marines, his mom had told my mom that he was not much of a social animal—his shy and retiring behavior although might have been thought to be cute, but what stood out in the open when Joe was discharged and had finished his tour of duty in Vietnam, 1968, or 1969, I cannot nail down the exact date. I was young then. But Joe, according to his mom who called my mom many years from that time of the two of them working for a textile plant: Detroit Slacks, located in Detroit, Ala., said that Joe was “different.” Talkative to the point of people wondering what had happened to their boy. I never seen the Post-Vietnam Tour Joe, only the Prior-Vietnam Joe, who was a bit more subdued, but very smart. This is not to imply in any way that Joe was kidnapped by the C.I.A. or some other form of Intelligent Earth Life and every ounce of his mind was cleaned, then reprogrammed. I will admit though, after thinking long about my mom’s latter talk with Joe’s mom and him being “different,” did cause me to think carefully about what I said about the C.I.A. Thanks, Kenneth.

--Dec. 16, 2017