By the time you read this, 45 Senate Democrats, aided by perhaps a
few Republicans, will have voted to accept Bill Clinton’s Mafiosi
techniques of political intimidation, witness tampering, lying under
oath, obstruction of justice, and character assassination as “politics
as usual” in America. God willing, their effort at dismissal will fail.
Languishing in yet another House committee is a bipartisan report
detailing treasonable charges of transferring technology that gives aid
and comfort to the dictators in Communist China. And therein lies the
magical word.

Bill Clinton’s trial has never been about Bill Clinton. It is
frequently, and wrongly, compared to Andrew Johnson’s impeachment trial,
but that is not the right model either. Bill Clinton is on trial because
deep down inside his beliefs are at odds with America. Americans just
don’t know it, because as Sen. Bob Kerry has said, “Clinton’s an
exceptionally good liar.”

Bill Clinton’s trial is about something quite different: It’s about a
religion. Although their god is dead, its rotting carcass stinks on, the
shell of a god still worshipped by America’s deluded elites: gifted,
godless traitors who control the nation’s disgraced media, the
ivy-league colleges in which they’ve replaced western civilization
courses with queer studies, and a public school system where they’ve
displaced the Christian God in whom we trust, with unfailing alliance to
their all powerful, all-pervasive, godless government.

While he was busy pretending to be a Fulbright scholar, Bill Clinton
made a leisurely trip to Moscow’s Kremlin, where he was entertained.
Shortly afterward, as a show of loyalty to his new faith, he organized
demonstrations against the United States and the Vietnam war. Since he
was a good liar, the draft board believed Mr. Clinton was studying at
Oxford and sent another young man to die in his place in Vietnam.

There is a model for Bill Clinton’s trial. The thread runs back
through Watergate. Some of the players are even the same. Hillary
Clinton knows, for she secured a bit part in the elites’ witchhunt that
destroyed Richard Nixon. Mrs. Clinton was one of the bright, young
elites. Bill Clinton was bright, but he was never an elite. He simply
carried their water. And why not? They were going in the same direction,
and Clinton does the task exceedingly well. He’s even cheap to keep —
provided his proclivities are catered to.

The trial that gave birth to Richard Nixon’s Watergate also bore Bill
Clinton’s sex and perjury-gate. The charge was even the same: perjury.
The defendant was Alger Hiss, the upper-crust of the Northeastern
Liberal Elite. The trial wasn’t even really about perjury. It was about
Alger Hiss and his religion: the godless religion of redemption through
government. Today, we call it Communism.

Hiss was a Communist spy. He betrayed America behind Roosevelt’s back
at Yalta, and countless other places. Tens of millions of Stalin’s own
citizens shivered and died in railroad cattle cars, entire families
parked in the midst of the Russian winter, left to freeze to death. In
his deluded mind, government became Alger Hiss’ god; he busied himself
betraying America to the Communist experience. Redemption through
regulation. Worship of the elites. Hiss was finally discredited by
Whittaker Chambers, Thomas Murphy, and Richard Nixon.

Watergate was never the real reason Nixon was hounded from office by
the press and the Democrats. It was payback. As a young congressman,
Richard Nixon performed the one unpardonable sin against America’s
godless elites: he destroyed Alger Hiss, and dealt a painful, wounding
blow to their government-is-god religion.

A religion to die for. Its temples still remain in China: forced
labor camps, “reeducation centers,” Christian pastors jailed for their
faith, families ripped apart by the police state, students crushed by
Red Army tanks for speaking of democracy, prisoners making toys that
American children snuggle up with at night.

Forty-five or more U.S. senators voted their faith and conscience,
led by Robert Byrd: political intimidation, witness tampering, lying
under oath, character assassination, and murder. Whatever it takes, to
govern without God. Whatever it takes, to redeem the electorate and hang
onto personal power. All hail king Clinton. Save us from political
oblivion. Slay the evil Ken Starr. Give us eternal power. One nation,
forever under corruption.

Listen to Whittaker Chambers, as he describes the end of the Alger
Hiss Case:

    “No feature of the Hiss Case is more obvious, or more troubling
    as history, than the jagged fissure, which it did not so much open as
    reveal, between the plain men and women of the nation, and those who
    affected to act, think and speak for them. It was, not invariably, but
    in general the ‘best people’ who were for Alger Hiss and who were
    prepared to go to almost any length to protect and defend him. It was
    the enlightened and powerful, the clamorous proponents of the open mind
    and the common man, who snapped their minds shut in the pro-Hiss
    psychosis, of a kind which, in an individual patient, means the simple
    failure of the ability to distinguish between reality and unreality, and
    in a nation is the warning of the end. …

    “But even when they did not understand, my people were always about
    me. I had only to look around me to see them — on the farms, on the
    streets, in homes, in shops, in the day coaches of trains. My people,
    humble people, strong in common sense, in common goodness, in common
    forgiveness, because all felt bowed together under the common weight of

    “At the very end of the Hiss Case, I heard their speaking voice, like
    themselves, anonymous, and speaking not to me as an individual, but to
    me in the name of all those who made the struggle.

    “On the afternoon of January 21, 1950, one of the wire services first
    telephoned me in Maryland to say that the jury in New York had found
    Alger Hiss guilty of perjury as charged on both counts. I had not turned
    away from the phone before it rang again. An excited voice, apparently
    that of an elderly man, asked if I were Whittaker Chambers. In turn, I
    asked who he was. “Nobody. It doesn’t matter,” said the voice. “But I
    know that your telephone will be ringing every minute now and I had to
    reach you first. I had to say: ‘God bless you! God bless you! Oh, God
    bless you!’ He hung up.” (Witness, 1952, Regnery Gateway.)

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