Announcer Good evening. This is Walter Cronkite speaking from the East Room of the White House where we are about to witness a genial Christmas extravaganza, "The International Follies." Here in a veritable wonderland of tinsel and moonbeams we shall be hearing from some of the best-loved actors who appeared on the American scene in the 1970s. Now the Marine Band is ready and here come the congressional soloists and chorus. Chorus If you wonder who we are, dears, We're the folks who make your laws, Spreading bounty near and far, dears, Every one a Santa Claus. We advise and we consent Just to help the president. Helping him is what we love -- First a whack and then a shove. Sen. Frank Church Never were we half so helpful As that happy, happy day When the Senate in its glory Rose and smashed the CIA! Chorus He used to find decision-making tough, But now it's fun like playing blindman's buff. Church You know we asked the Sunday schools To help us teach our spies the rules: Don't ever break a foreign code Or penetrate their spies' abode Unless you knock and clearly say, "We represent the CIA"; Or scribble notes in secret ink, Or slip a mickey in a drink. And agents of the female sex Must wear their numbers round their necks, And never, never cross their knees Or flirt with men at embassies, Or otherwise deploy their wiles To get a peek at secret files. I think we now can proudly say We've pasteurized our CIA. Chorus Ha, ha, ha and heh, heh, heh -- We've sterilized our CIA. Rep. Brademas and Sen. Sarbanes Although the Middle East looked rather murky, We thought we'd help some more by gouging Turkey. We have Hellenic genes, you see, And so our first priority Is "Kick the Turks." How dare you say We really kicked the U.S.A.? We merely used our Grecian charms To stop the Turks' supply of arms. Of course, their air force soon was stalled -- The president was quite appalled. The Turks, poor sports, then closed our bases, A score or more in useful places. The Russians watching from the north Began with glee to sally forth. They vaulted clear above the Straits To spread their Cuban surrogates Around the lands of Araby And thence along the Indian Sea. You think we really fouled the works? Well, fun is fun and Turks are Turks. Chorus The future in those parts grows still more murky, But, still, it's Jimmy's job to handle Turkey. (Soft lights, soft music. Enter Andrew Young). Andy Sweetest little fella Everybody knows; Name is Yasser Arafat, He smells jes' lak a rose. And the ayatollah, Looks so wise and quaint -- I said, "Mr. President, He's probably a saint. "And those Castro Cubans, They're like missionaries, Fanning out through Africa A-whispering Hail Marys." Chorus The president, no doubt, was mighty grateful; You certainly delivered him a plateful. (Wagnerian flourishes. Enter Henry Kissinger, in mourning). Henry Gee, but I'd give the world to see That old gang of mine! The pillars of my strategy, My bold grand design. Remember Papadopoulos? Alas, how soon he wilted; And then those Pakistanis For whom I fibbed and "tilted"? (How could they now forget those days And set our envoys' pants ablaze?) Remember Stonewall What's-his-name? Oh, yes the name was Thieu: And now, alas, the shah of shahs? -- My eyes are filled with dew . . . A pheasant breast, a shopping list and him Beside me dining in the Waldorf Tower -- Methought that filled my chalice to the brim Those happy days when statecraft was in flower. What happened, shades of Metternich? He tumbled in an augenblick. And now imagine his despair Without Blue Cross or Medicare! Chorus You really picked some very lovely friends -- To bad they met with such untimely ends. Henry Yet hope remains: Let's not forget We still have Colonel Pinochet. President The past is past; let's join our hearts this season And face the coming year with hope and reason. Your help I'm grateful for, though I confess I sometimes wished you'd helped a little less; And if your help you now should choose to ration, I'll steer the ship in less erratic fashion. Now bless this land and bless you every one -- We'll meet the dawn when this old year is done.