Adams quoted Silver as once saying of his CIA service: "I thought it was patriotic. But then time came that life, love and girls distracted me." We took some interest in the tidbit, because Silver once told us the same thing: At a party, he claimed—off the record—to have worked with the CIA in the early 1970s in Laos, running drugs. Cool, we thought.

Well it looks to have been a tall tale he used to impress reporters. We've obtained Silver's FBI file through a Freedom of Information Act request, and it is fairly definitive: While he briefly considered becoming a CIA analyst, he never worked for the Agency.

In September 2007, Silver was named by George W. Bush to the board of directors of the U.S. Institute of Peace, a federally funded organization that advises the government on conflict resolution. Silver's position required a security clearance, so he subjected himself to an FBI background investigation.

The results of the background check, which run to hundreds of pages, are the only records in Silver's FBI file. It contains everything from his credit report to interviews with his agent, neighbors, and former therapist—all in all, he seems to have been a stand-up guy. But it also says unequivocally that the FBI checked with the CIA, and the agency had no record of Silver having worked with it:

Silver did travel around Southeast Asia in his early twenties, which in the Sixties and Seventies was practically a guaranteed tip-off that someone was a spook. But he told the FBI about his travels, and said it was all on the up-and-up. While he did very briefly consider a career as an "analyst in one of the intelligence agencies," he met once with one CIA representative and gave up on the idea:

So somewhere along the line, it looks like Silver blew up a sit-down with a CIA recruiter into a few swashbuckling years in black ops. Of course, it is possible that Silver's service was so sensitive that he lied—under penalty if perjury—to the FBI about it. Or maybe it was scrubbed from the file before being submitted to the White House for review. Indeed, five pages of the file were redacted by the FBI because they were classified "in the interest of national defense or foreign policy"—which could mean dark secrets are hidden there. But we're betting on Ron Silver liking the sound of saying, "I used to work with the Agency."

[T]his is a supersonic blade traveling 1,400 feet per second, 700 miles per hour. It can slice you in two at 14 feet. Once you hear that explosive gunshot crack, you never forget it. It's intimidating. Scary. Makes a big noise, but that's what it's intended to do.

I taught Harrison how to stay safe and never hit himself. Work in parallel lines. Think of railroad tracks outside your hand and body. Stay outside those tracks. I worked on his vocabulary. Vertical is a clock's 12-to-6, horizontal is 3-to-9, diagonal's 2-to-8. I broke the whips in for him so they'd develop muscle memory then taught him, listen to it. Don't rush it. It's an ally not an adversary. Use as little effort as possible. Stay absolutely relaxed. Slow its motion. Align it, form the loop above the head, and it's a rolling wave of energy that multiplies. The power is in the shoulder and arm.

Civilized man's oldest tool, the whip, dates back 5,000 years. If you listen, the whip will whisper its secrets.

Well, this is a gossip column, after all. We can't wait for tomorrow's edition, when Aunt Cindy brings us the truly scandalous back story behind Shia LaBeouf's painstaking switchblade training.

• Indy's Still a Whippersnapper [NYP]

Page 10 on Bill Clinton: "My mother waddles faster than that larda - -." Page 11: "We'll move these terr'ists to Guantanemera." Cheney: "Guantanamo." Bush: "Right." Then Bush to Cheney: "Vice, when we're in meetings I want you to keep a lid on it. Keep your ego in check. Remember, I'm the president."

Flashbacks have college-boy W. boozing, slacking off from work, in jail, calling his then-congressman father "Poppy." Sr. praising Jeb, castigating Jr., asking if he's "knocked up" a girl named Susie, complaining, "You never kept your word once . . . you're only good for partying, chasing tail, driving drunk . . . You deeply disappoint me." Repeat father and son arguments. Father: "I've had enough of your crap." Son: "I've had enough of you for a lifetime." Mama Barbara breaking up the near fisticuffs with announcing Jr. just made Harvard and Sr. responding, "But who do you think pulled the strings?" ...

Page 42. Checking a map, being told it passed "Humint," whereupon the President of the United States asks, "What's 'Humint' again?" and being told "It's Human Intelligence." A scene in which, auditing an Iraqi intercept, W. asks, "Wolfowitz, got any Maalox on you? . . . and while you're at it, trim your ear hairs." And Cheney checking his heart pills.

Then it struck us: Cindy Adams's distillation is W's shooting script. How else could we expect Stone to turn the film around in five months? And anyway, if it's not the script, then it should be; pair this up with the Uwe Boll Movie Challenge (Jeb Bush could be the requisite "little brother") — instant classic! In any event, we'd gladly crew up for any filmmaker with the vision and wherewithal to commit this to celluloid or tape. We promise not to tell the WGA.

• FILM HAS A FEW WORDS ABOUT OUR PRESIDENT [NYP]

"I cannot remember that last time that Cindy Adams got anything right. She's an idiot, and you can quote me."

Well, not many people will argue that Adams is a little batty, having devoted much of her later years to designing doggywear at Macy's for her one true love, a teensy weensy toy named Jazzy, but to Adams' credit, she was the very first gossip to break the news of the Jessica Simpson/Nick Lachey demise. Plus, she's been around the block writing for the Post since 1981. But despite the likely truthiness to Adams' claims, we're still new fans of longtime PMK publicist Olim, who, liar or not, dared to call one of the most influential columnists in the entertainment biz "an idiot." We like lady publicists with balls like that.

• KIDMAN'S PUBLICIST BLASTS ALCOHOL REPORT [SF Gate]
• OSCAR WHISPERED RIGHT INTO MY EAR [Cindy Adams]