Chapter Twenty-Two of An Ecstatic Loneliness: Preface To A Gulliver's Exile
By Michael Moriarty
What was the reason I began my journey as this two-legged, "ecstatic loneliness"? My pilgrimage as a blissfully wandering ex-patriot?
I liken that evolving United States out of A Progressively Marxist New World Order to the burgeoning disease I now call a "World War III Axis".
Then again the Progressive Oligarchy could also become a kind of second Soviet Union. Or today's Red China for that matter. Or all three rolled into the nightmare we now know of as an increasingly anti-Semitic Obama Nation.
Yes. The Progressively Marxist New World Order is becoming an increasingly totalitarian Fourth Reich.
Roughly twenty-two years just passed within that last sentence. This pronouncement I link you to occurred during George H. W. Bush's only term in office. It became the starting point for a bipartisan agreement upon a "New World Order" eventually run, as Bush tells you, by the United Nations
The middle years of my twenty-two year odyssey include the beginning of my "ecstatic loneliness". The taste of ecstatic loneliness was, perhaps, inspired in me by my mother. She was, like myself, an alcoholic.
My father, also an alcoholic, was an unrelentingly imperial know-it-all.
I unavoidably had problems with both.
Therefore, declared my second wife, it follows that Michael Moriarty would automatically project onto an authority figure, such as a female Attorney General of the Unite States, Janet Reno, the same trapped feelings he had experienced with his fall-down-drunk mother.
My second, former wife is a psychiatric social worker.
What my second wife says about Janet Reno may be true.
However, the Attorney General, during the three hours I had to endure her "hush-hush" meeting with NBC executives and myself, was horrifyingly sober and, amidst Ms. Reno's silent raving and paranoid dirty looks at us, she was militantly restrained.
"From now on," whispered Lady General to myself and a dining, round table of television executives, "I shall speak no louder than this."
Upon returning to my Washington D.C. hotel room, I opened both my laptop computer and the liquor cabinet. Yes, this is actually when and where a complete surrender to my "ecstatic loneliness" had begun.
By the end of two days and while back in New York, I had produced a record of the Washington D.C. meeting with the clear intention of sharing it with The Press.
While my second "therapist", a woman psychoanalyst, had me weeping for two weeks over my mother, I have never wept over any of the Attorneys General of the United States.
No, I still don't believe my reaction to Clinton's AG had anything to do with projections of my mother. My anger had held visions of the future. Yes, nightmares including all the subsequent Attorneys General.
At any rate, white wine was how I began my Ecstatic Loneliness. That and the French liqueur Lillet!
Sipping both at the most popularly expensive 57th St. restaurant in New York was becoming one of my favorite masochisms. The "Great", near-great and soon-to-become has-been's, such as myself, flocked there. Lillet always gave me a pleasant "tone", as they describe a mild high in my father's favorite escape from his own zealously protected respectability: pre-Castro Cuba. The "Tone" was a description that my father fed me after one of his own trips to Havana.
With my very Catholic, yea, Jesuit commitment to battling Roe v Wade and legalized abortion, my present joy-in-life has a miraculously disciplined freedom to it that is also a miraculously free discipline.
I regret that it's taken me twenty-two chapters to invite you into the heart of this memoir's message of Ecstatic Loneliness. In my daily ascent, so to speak, I simply couldn't address the personal solutions to a problem before sharing with you the problem itself: the 40 year, downhill plunge of my former homeland, America, into hell.
In light of my prophetic description of the Obama Nation as a burgeoning "Fourth Reich", these Third Millennium, White House tendencies or penchants I link you to will still be appearing in this memoir rather regularly. There are actully six more "links" suggesting an almost viral anti-Semitism within President Obama that breaks out with unexpected virulence.
Given my post-graduate course in anti-Semitism, my six-weeks of filming in Vienna for the television mini-series, Holocaust, the tell-tale signs of the Obama Nation's decidedly un-Judeo-Christian slant on life… this all tends to fit with the chronic presence of anti-Semitism in many, worldwide Marxist adventures. To make this long-way-round shorter, I repeat: Obama is diabolically charming. As Vladimir Nabokov once said about Lenin: "He's a glass of the milk of human kindness… at the bottom of which is a dead rat."
We must all keep an eye on this 44th President of the United States… which, of course, is exactly what an increasingly exposed, "narcissistic sociopath" would want: our complete and undivided attention.
Then, of course, there is the Rahm Immanuel axiom: "Don't waste a good crisis!"
Meanwhile, what happened to me once this Ecstatic Loneliness began with my first sip of Lillet at the Russian Tea Room, post-The Janet Reno Side Show? I slowly but painfully awoke to the prophetic truth spoken to me by the head of the ACLU at the time, Ira Glasser: "Michael, you will be cut from the herd… and find yourself all alone."
Indeed I was.
With increasing volumes of Lillet, red and white wine, chasers of beer and the occasional luxury of Crown Royal's "sipping whiskey" (as my father termed it), my "loneliness" became quickly "ecstatic".
This state of mildly lubricious inebriation and increasing isolation convinced me to leave not only my marriage but my city, my home in upstate New York and, finally, my country.
Despite the price I paid with my health, after over a virtual "lost decade" of drinking, I found my ultimate ecstasy in sobriety and the command of Alcoholics Anonymous, "Let go, let God!" and Christ's own version of it, "Thy will, not mine."
That pilgrimage, I trust, and it's stumbling trek across the Canadian half of this continent, will be the center of attention for the coming chapters of this memoir.
My next chapter?
"Cutting My Umbilical Cord To Manhattan". Ergo, President Obama's press conference on "Gun Control" with all the kids around him.
Michael Moriarty is a Golden Globe and Emmy Award-winning actor who starred in the landmark television series Law and Order from 1990 to 1994. His recent film and TV credits include The Yellow Wallpaper, 12 Hours to Live, Santa Baby and Deadly Skies. Contact Michael at firstname.lastname@example.org. He can be found on Twitter at https://twitter.com/@MGMoriarty.