New York City is now Clintongrad, reflecting the Soviet practice of renaming its cities, as St. Petersburg was rechristened Leningrad. That Vince of the North is once again called St. Petersburg, while Stalingrad was renamed Volgograd. The Soviet dreamers are still breathing with a former KGB member, Vladimir Putin, running the show in cahoots with Red China.

Bill Clinton took a personal journey to Leningrad in his youth. This was before the fall of the Berlin Wall in the late eighties. He was a Rhodes Scholar back then. Our eventual President of the United States relived the very journey Lenin took when he re-entered a homeland he was determined to transform into a Communist state. Whether Clinton had the same goal in mind regarding his own homeland is hard to say. However, from the complete occupation of New York City by Clinton and his wife, Senator Hillary, I do think that Lenin would be very proud of the old boy. Admiring magazine writers call Clinton "the most influential man in the world," like they are all readying themselves for a world-uniting empire – a final vindication of Napoleonic dreams, and when you build an Empire, you need an Emperor.

Last year, at the Memorial Service for Pope John Paul II, Clinton commented on the late Pontiff’s leadership, comparing it to his own eight years as U.S. president. He labeled both terms of office equally "chequered." Here’s the present leader of the Democratic Party, the ruling principle of which is separation of church and state, having no trouble comparing the foremost Christian religious leader to an American politician. This remark simply indicates the vast size of Clinton’s Global Vision, a virtual synthesis of Church and State. However, if you’re not for death and population control, you will never be a prime candidate for elevation to the higher strata of Clinton’s Global Empire.

Presently I am waiting to hear back from a major publication in Clintongrad, New York Magazine. They’ve shown an interest in publishing an essay of mine entitled The Rabid Black Dog of American Careerism. The fact-checker asked repeatedly for confirmation of the fact that I, Michael Moriarty, indeed wrote the piece, which was submitted by my editor Harvey Chartrand of Ottawa.

As I wait for their decision, I’ve been told by their fact-checker, a Ms. Julia Ramey, that I’d have to start flipping through upcoming issues to find out if my essay saw the light of day. Dealing with the press in the old days was much simpler. The editors usually said: "We’ll let you know." Then I’d request they send me a tear-sheet copy of the published piece, and that would be the end of it.

Here’s the interesting, most dramatic side to this "waiting to find out" business. I can actually hear the voices of the New York Magazine editorial staff debating whether or not to print my essay. Such a conversation might go something like this:

"It’s anti-abortion!"

"Yes. That’s obvious. Thanks for enlightening me." (This reply comes from the more sophisticated of the two editorial mavens.)

"Then why print it? It only helps the enemy!"

"Yes… that’s a safe policy. Abe Rosenthal of The New York Times used that zero tolerance philosophy for years. He’s kept anti-drug law essays and editorials out of his newspaper, when it was his newspaper… the drug laws were Abe’s sacred cow. He helped get a Surgeon General fired because of her stance on drug laws… admitted it. But, then again, he was getting old."

"So, we don’t run the Moriarty essay."

"Well, it is clearly written… and we’ve checked his quotes from Entertainment Weekly and other people mentioned in the article and they are all true… and it is, if you’ll remember, a reply to our television critic’s rather cheap shot at his character on Law and Order…"

"Law and Schmorder? Who cares? The mess Dick Wolf’s made of his empire is none of our business… Tell John Leonard to just shut up about Law and Order. It’s getting old. Nobody gives a shit."

"Alright. But who the hell is this Chartrand guy? Where does he fit into the picture? He lives in effin’ Ottawa, fer Chrissakes. That’s up in iglooland."

"Ottawa? No writer worth his salt would be working in that sub-Arctic shithole. How’d a great actor like Moriarty get mixed up with a nobody like this guy – what’s-‘is-name again? Shadrack?"

"No wonder Ms. Ramey was suspicious! But we’ve cleared up all doubts as to the provenance of the essay, so let’s run the damn thing. Of course, it’s up to Ms. Ramey to decide when to slot the piece, and I hear she won’t be able to do that until she returns from her four-month vacation in July! I thought she was just a fact-checker. How does she rate that much vacation time?"

So if I want to find out if my essay will be published in New York Magazine, I’ll have to keep watching the stands. That’s what Ms. Ramey told me.

To which I retorted: "Well, that’s the New World Order, isn’t it?"

Without a beat, she said: "Yes!"

Keep watching the stands!