THE SELF-EVIDENT EXCEPTION

A Six-Year Record of Inevitable Victory

By Michael Moriarty

Churchy is of course Sir Winston Churchill. A run for the Presidency would be utterly inconceivable without the presence in my mind and soul of that Great Knight of the English-speaking world.

Mankind’s greatest Romantic Realist, Churchy placed his intuition and sentiment above all else. Churchy knew there was an Intelligence far beyond our own which can only be reached by the soul and not the mind.

I can attribute this entire Grand Central Terminal of dead souls to my appearance in Talking to Heaven (2002) – the screenplay about the now well-known medium James Van Pragh. Not only can you talk to Heaven but Heaven most definitely comes to visit you, whether you want it to or not.

It was Churchy’s appearance that settled my mind about "going for the Presidency." His own adamancy that I "must, absolutely must run for the Presidency of the United States," sealed my commitment made four years ago now. His having worked rather closely with Franklin Delano Roosevelt, literally standing naked in a bathtub at the White House declaring: "The Prime Minister of England has nothing to hide from the President of the United States" – well, it convinced me that he’d love my kind of administration.

There will be a Churchill corner in my Oval Office. It will always be in my view from the same trailer camp armchair reject I sit in now. Tough decisions of any kind require Churchy’s advice. His having made so many of his own, he acquired a lightning speed for computing the repercussions of any number of alternate solutions and coming up with the one that left "the least damage." Despite the opinions of many about his World War I plan for the Dardanelles – a great failure with an agonizing loss of life for England – he was generally right every time. His inability to hold back Russian Bolshevism thundering in behind the horrors of Nazi Germany was largely the fault of the English Socialists who, after getting rid of the racist Adolf Hitler, thought that Josef Stalin would be a more acceptable representative of their political ideology. The ungrateful Brits kicked Churchy out of office the minute they saw victory over Hitler in their grasp. Thank you very much, England, for the corrosive Socialism that later brought a great nation to its knees.

My eyes well up with tears every time I ponder some of Churchy’s greatest moments. His bulldog tenacity and incomparable pronunciation of the word "evil" set the English-speaking peoples’ sights upon destroying Adolph Hitler, and run him down into his Bunker they did. No one knew Evil’s meaning as profoundly as Churchy. He did not sacrifice his life for victory. He seemed utterly invincible and untouchable by conspirators. He rode before the Boer troops in South Africa early in his military career, actually challenging them to shoot him. Not a bullet grazed him and, when captured, he escaped, dressed as a woman, and fled home to England, where he was greeted as a hero. Churchy’s favorite role, until his irreplaceable leadership of war-torn England, was as Lord of the Admiralty. He’d certainly served with the army and even flown a few planes himself, stressing early on the growing dominance of air warfare to come, but it was the Navy, England’s greatest glory that filled Churchy with bliss. Until, of course, he’d finally broken the back of the Hun.

At the famed Siegfried Line, the one Hitler said the Allies would never cross, one General, through his aide-de-camp, mentioned he had to "find a water closet." Without an instant's pause, Churchy suggested, and for all to hear: "Let’s pee on the Siegfried Line!"… and so indeed, they did, the whole contingent of attending generals and dignitaries displayed their opinion of the Fuhrer’s certainty that "no enemy will cross the Siegfried Line!"

Our differences of faith, his the Church of England and mine Roman Catholic, do bring up a few ruffled feathers at the deliberating table. He had, at one gathering, accidentally burned the hand of a Catholic archbishop with his cigar. After apologizing, he remarked: "I’ll bet it’s the first time a Catholic has been burned by a Protestant, eh?"

My reply to that is from James Joyce, another exiled Irishman like myself. When asked, because he’d lost his Catholic faith, would he ever consider becoming Protestant, Joyce said: "I may have lost my faith, but I haven’t lost my mind."

Conditions in today’s post-colonial Commonwealth would test the sanity of the stoniest of leaders, but out of those, none could compare with the Lion’s Certainty of Churchy. He sprang to the enemy’s throats as swiftly as the largest and most heavily maned beast of the African veldt. He never apologized for his militant animality when waging war. "The soft underbelly" was a frequent description of his for the most vulnerable point on the evil body of the Nazi/Fascist Axis. When a neurasthenic Neville Chamberlain whined to Churchy that Hitler was a madman, Churchy said: "I know that Prime Minister… but we will have him!" He said these words like Henry VIII might have, over a fully spitted and roasted pig.

Ah, the English-speaking peoples! Was there ever a greater host of angels upon the earth? Fierce but passionately loyal to their own, bellicose when pressed, but irresistibly eloquent when in love, witty in their angriest moments and so hyperbolic in their most sincere expressions, often playing the opposite of what they truly intend to greater effect than if they simply tried to say: "I love you." Oh, how wonderful the English-speaking peoples are: so alive, so filled with the greatest language to ever reach the ears of heaven, so like gods themselves.

And so like a God on Earth was Churchy. Certainly he was the Archangel Michael of the 20th Century, saving our civilization from the jaws of a devil. He led, and ultimately all – even FDR – followed.

He continued to lead in Fulton, Missouri, when he warned America and President Harry Truman about the "Iron Curtain" which had descended across Europe. Truman, who was about to fire General Douglas MacArthur for wanting to pull down Communist Chairman Mao Zedong before China held possession of the atomic bomb – God bless MacArthur – simply smiled stoically and went on with the FDR program of appeasing Socialists. Why? Because the Rooseveltians, all the way to their treasonous imitators, the Clintons, had become very fashionably socialist themselves.

So, for Churchy, the war goes on, even from heaven and he loves to be "back in the thick of it!"

I doubt if I shall ever adore a man with more breathless admiration than I do Sir Winston Churchill.