Text of Kissinger's Secret Lecture

(Salon) Yale graduate students were urged to respect the “confidentiality” of an upcoming lecture by controversial Ford/ Nixon Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, according to an email sent by an administrator and forwarded to Salon. “Dr. Kissinger’s visit to campus will not be publicized, so we appreciate your confidentiality with respect to this exciting opportunity,” states an all-bold paragraph sent by Larisa Satara, the associate director of Yale’s Jackson Institute for Global Affairs, to a private listserv for Yale history graduate students. The email, sent Monday morning, also tells students that the event “is BY INVITE only”; “There will be a check list at the front door”;  “Laptops are not permitted and Yale ID will be required for entry”; “This is a high security event”; and “All attendees will be expected to remain in their seats for the duration of the event …”

Okay, so to start with, I want to tell you some things that - Wait a minute.  Is that a cellphone?  Put that thing up!  You think I'm letting every Tom, Dick, and Schroeder in on this?  This is top-drawer stuff.  Now sit up and pay attention.  And no taking notes!  You commit this to memory and don't breathe another word to anyone.

Now, as I was saying, oysters.  When you go to shuck an oyster don't try to stick the oyster knife between its lips.  Yes, I know oysters don't have lips, idiot.  But I don't know what else to call it.  The front end.  Instead, stick the point of the blade in the back end, where it's kind of like a hinge.  Just stick the blade in there, twist, and...  Gott in himmel, put away that cellphone.  I told you once.  You're not fooling anyone.  I see it there under your desk.

Now where was I?  Bow ties.  Everyone wants to tie a bow tie all of a sudden.  (Laughs.)  It's so easy.  What you need is two bow ties.  They need to be exactly the same color.  I prefer black or baby blue.  One of them is just a clip-on and the other is a real bow tie like you have to tie.  When you go out, you wear the clip-on, and the other one's in your pocket.  And everyone who sees you is like, "Who's he think he's fooling with that bow-tie? Anyone can tell it's a clip-on, the knot's too perfect."  But then, towards the end of the evening, you slip into the bathroom and replace the clip-on with the real tie.  But you don't tie the real tie, you just let it hang loose around your collar, like you're just tired out at the end of the night and maybe a little uncomfortable from that perfect knot against your adam's apple, so now when everyone sees you, they're like...

Ach du lieber, how many times do I have to tell you!  I don't understand you people!  You pay this fancy tuition to be a Yale graduate student, and then you're ready to spill everything you know to every schmuck who goes to community college.  This is your last warning.

So.  Termites.  Here's a sure-fire way to prevent termites.  Nobody outside this room has ever heard this one.  First of all, you need a roll of contact paper with a wood-grain pattern.  This can be hard to come by, but there was still some at WalMart last time I went.  Now.  Wrap an ordinary brick in contact paper, and...

Okay, that's it!  I'm done.  If you can't respect the Secrecy Pledge you signed when you came in here after my security staff checked your ID's and did a retina-scan, you certainly don't deserve to hear from Henry Freaking Kissinger.  Your loss, suckers.  And I was going to tell you my special Putin joke, too.  No, don't bother apologizing, it's too late now.  You'll just have to wait until it's printed in The New Yorker and everyone knows it.  The punchline was a doozy, too.  It's "Crimea River."  Pretty slick, huh?  But it doesn't make sense without the rest of the joke.  So chew on that, losers.  I'm out of here.

Deuces.