My very own long march
By Michael Moriarty
Is there anyone William Jefferson Clinton thinks cannot be turned into Monica Lewinsky?
The utterly recalcitrant can choose their fate. The extent to which they resist that fate determines the means by which Emperor Clinton can convince them that they are indeed wrong! They are "UN-enlightened," to coin an expression not approved by the United Nations.
Mao, at least in Clinton's estimation, was exactly the kind of leader that an overpopulated and backward China needed. Joseph Stalin, in the mind of the Arkansas master of relativism, was far more "realistic" than Mao. Both of these Communist chairmen survived into old age and died natural deaths, persuading the young Clinton that Communism was indeed here to stay.
Struggling through his heart attack, Monica's former older boyfriend is even more firmly convinced that Medicine, an arm of the Emperor's Inner Sanctorum – the cabal of Master Scientists – is proving again the law of "mind over matter." Because of his own survival, Clinton believes that his Global Initiative and Eugenics Program will win the day. Mao and his minions, the multi-million-footed, goose-stepping legions of the Chinese Red Army, can be taught to behave. And to behave well.
Jung Chang and Jon Halliday's recent revelations in Mao: The Untold Story, their excellent biography of that Deadly Buddha, limn a portrait of infinite evil. Here we have a true Shakespearean villain who combines the greed for power of Richard III and the serpentine cunning and motiveless malignancy of Iago. With the pocketbook version of the Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung neatly stored in the most well-protected corner of their uniforms – rather like the Koran in Osama bin Laden's back pocket – the Red Army of Communist China is awakening to Mao's ultimate message of Chinese racial supremacy.
Hidden accounts of the legendary Long March are revealed by Chang and Halliday. In 1934-35, to be a Red Chinese soldier, one needed the suicidal willingness to undergo all privations, suffer all diseases (from dysentery to tuberculosis), welcome all suicide missions at Mao's slightest whim, and surge forward, carrying the throne on which sat the soft bloated demigod Mao Zedong.
Clinton believes he can eventually put that God on his knees before the "Slick Willy" throne and have that Red Dragon begging for a taste of the Emperor's cigar. Stalin said, "Gratitude is for dogs," and Mao pointed out that the Chinese eat dogs. How the American Emperor thinks that a racial supremacist like Mao, who treated his own troops like dogs, would want to demote himself to the rank of Private before a self-proclaimed five-star General like Clinton, who never served in combat and built his whole Harlem army on the proven certainty of immediate gratification for all their needs, bodily and otherwise – why Clinton believes in the possibility of that ever happening is because he's known no other response from anyone (with the exception of Whitewater Special Prosecutor Kenneth Starr). Even Newt Gingrich began telling us how charming Clinton was with his "winning" style. With smug insouciance, Emperor Clinton puffs on his cigar with the boys and plots his own expropriation of mainland China.
"They'll see the light," Clinton muses as he stares at the burning ember of his fat cigar, held so tenderly in his fingertips. The fire that incinerates his cigar denotes another fire going on within the hearts of the American people. They've never liked empires, except their own cultural one, and loathe emperors of all kinds. They have overlooked the sexual peccadilloes of a mere President, his sensual, self-gratification in the Oval Office because, in the end, he was only a President and had a term limit.
Emperor Clinton, though, is an internationalist like his mentor, Senator William Fulbright, Jr. Clinton sees no end to the length of his reign. He even sees beyond his own rule to a reign over the hearts and minds of men that will remain quasi-eternal. He's certain that Mao, like Emperor Constantine did with Christ, will bow before his metaphysical powers. I suspect that Clinton actually thinks he's the Second Coming of Christ. From the mercurial speed of his ascendance to power, you'd almost be obliged to agree with him.
The Catholic in me scoffs at this notion of Clinton as Christ. The Christ this Catholic knows could not abide a Socialism that can't make money grow but can certainly steal it from everyone (see Christ's Parable of the Five Talents and His advice to tax collectors).
Nor would Christ ever sanction what Clinton failed to abolish – Roe v. Wade! Herod the Great ordered the deaths of hundreds of babies when he learned a Messiah was about to be born. It's rather like Roe v. Wade instituting a million and a half abortions a year to appease Gloria Steinem.
God gave us free will and men like Clinton would defy it, spit on individual freedom and breed the human race like livestock.
Well I, as a Moriarty, guarantee you that your fate will be quite the opposite of what you'd planned, Mr. Bill Clinton! It will be you on your knees before the throne of Mao.
It's been 11 years since I left the Law and Order series in protest and to devote whatever time was left me to fight you. (My fourth and final season of Law and Order– 1993-94 – just came out on DVD.) And my fight with you continues! Call it Michael Moriarty's Long March to Final Vindication.
Michael Moriarty is a Golden Globe and Emmy Award-winning actor who has appeared in the landmark television series Law and Order, the mini-series Taken, and the TV-movie The 4400. He is now filming Pick Me Up, an episode of the Showtime TV series Masters of Horror, in Vancouver.
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