I'm calling in an urgent request for reinforcements, before we're overrun. The eXile, my HQ since I started this column, has been sucker-punched by a bunch of squeamish bureaucrats and anonymous complainers. You know the type, the kind of people who'll poison your dog but don't have the guts to come to your door. Looks like this Fifth Column is winning, and we'll be forced to retreat from Moscow. And you know how messy retreats from Moscow can get. Ask the Little Corporal; he left the Kremlin with half a million men and came home with about enough for a high-school marching band.
