Every big jazz band needs a "face man." He’s the charming guy out in front in the saxophone section, the good-looking one who can flirt with the ladies over his mouthpiece. However, when he’s also a lawyer like William Clinton was, the Face Man is a double mouthpiece with a Tom Sawyer smile. While the real men are doing the work, he is working the women. He can’t solo at all, really. When he does, he goes on too long and they have to get the hook.

Somehow the wunderkind from Hope, Arkansas, with his saxophone, has become a kind of a politician’s Frank Sinatra. He even has a tough old bird like magazine editor Tina Brown, sighing like a bobbysoxer.

"He’s the sexiest man in the world," she gushed one day.

Well, that’s Clinton’s job, ma’am. He’s the Face Man.

Ownership of anything is the most important fact to know. Who owns the band? Who owns the newspaper? Who owns the network? It all comes down to ownership in the end.

Who really owns the Big Band that Clinton plays the Face Man in?

Mao Zedong.

It’s in that Communist Buddha’s estate, probated by Karl Marx himself, whose French followers have at last found their Real Napoleon, the one whose Messianic charisma will dictate everything from that great Freezer in the Void where Mao resides. He still rules the roost in his rather formidable family, and most likely does so in his pajamas; rather in the same way Helena Rubenstein used to rule her make-up empire, from bed.

Mao used to run the whole thing from Baidai. That’s the Red Palm Springs not far from the South China Sea where Mao used to refresh himself. It’s a big thing for any of the Politburo to be invited there. It’s kind of like being wined and dined by Frank Sinatra, the chairman of the Rat Pack himself.

The Face Man in this band, however, has only one problem. He thinks he owns the whole operation. His recent Clinton Global Initiative (CGI) is virtually a new United Nations. Seeing that he’d most likely lose his hoped-for chance to be UN Secretary-General, he’s just built one of his own. It’s really all about phone calls, you know, and golf games, of course.

What has this all to do with Arnold Schoenberg? Well, if you’ve read my two earlier editorials, you’ll know about the Twelve Tone School and the actual Messianic Mandate to cut the throat of diatonic harmony and Christian civilization as well. Schoenberg is the musical Marxist as Anti-Christ.

Now Clinton’s Big Band doesn’t play Twelve Tone Music. Some of the other band members can, but it’s not palatable to the general American audience which is Clinton’s targeted "demographic." No, the Rainbow

Bourgeoisie – that’s the Big Band’s opinion of Americans anyway – needs a sense of the "modern" that hasn’t lost the "homey touch." Jesse Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition tried, but something about his all-black board of directors made Americans a little suspicious about the sincerity of his idea of the "Rainbow."

One thing for certain, though, Roe v. Wade instituted multicultural Rainbow Death. Since the U.S. Supreme Court’s enactment of the Mao Zedong Population Control Policy and tens of millions of dead gestating infants later, it’s clear that this Big Band certainly knows how to "get out there and knock ‘em dead."

The Face Man has no moral qualms about any of that. His first trip through the Bible was guided by the greatest broken-field runner in American Christian history: Rev. W.O. Vaught. After his instructions to young Clinton, not even the Jesuits of Georgetown could persuade the would-be Messiah otherwise. Yes, the Face Man firmly believes he is the Second Coming. Perhaps the Arkansas farmers who called him a "slick-willy Anti-Christ" put the whole idea in his mind. Ever since Toni Morrison turned the Face Man into the White Bwana by calling him "the first ‘black’ President," it didn’t take much for the authentically African friends of the White Bwana to parade him through the Congo, dressed in Christ-like robes. We all know what happens to the White Bwana in that kitschy Hollywood movie Bwana Devil.

But he’s just a Face Man. He’s Bob Roberts himself, the guitar-toting conman of Tim Robbins’ film.

The Maoist Big Band is now on a world tour and America’s in the back pocket of the Face Man. His wife Hillary is soon scheduled to conduct from the Oval Office, and the next six years will be the worst in the entire history of the United States.

Hurricane Katrina is just the overture; and just over the hill is Arnold Schoenberg. He cut the throat of diatonic harmony. The European Union has eliminated the Judeo-Christian civilization from its Constitution; and all that remains is for the Face Man and his wife to start treating America like it’s nothing more than the Koresh compound that burned to the ground in Waco, Texas.