Date: 2024-09-27 Page is: DBtxt003.php txt00020348 | |||||||||
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Burgess COMMENTARY Peter Burgess | |||||||||
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A-Canceling We Will Go Jack Fowler Unsubscribe 12:09 PM (2 hours ago) to me Weekend-Jolt.png WITH JACK FOWLER March 20 2021 A-Canceling We Will Go Dear Weekend Joltarians, Talk about multi-tasking: We’re fighting the Cancel Cultural Totalitarians (the ideological forensics reveals the fingerprints of Marx, Stalin, and Mao are everywhere!) while at the same time there is a full-court legal effort to cancel National Review by that infamous Nobel Peace Prize Not-Winner, Michael Mann. And about that, there is good news: Today we learned that a D.C. Superior Court judge granted National Review “summary judgment” in this case (similar motions for other defendants — Mark Steyn, CEI, Rand Simberg — are still pending). Truth be told, that’s better than good, it is terrific news. Especially for the First Amendment. But this Mann Affair — a thing the climate scientist cast as a desire to crush National Review — is decidedly not over. Not by a long shot. Miles to go, as the poet wrote. Our bloodied adversary will surely appeal this ruling (one can only wonder what Sugar Daddy is bankrolling his massive legal costs) and force us to respond in kind. And spend in kind. Yes, we celebrate today’s victory, hard-fought, but with a downside that carries on: Added to the choke-a-horse existing legal bills coming in (yep, insurance pays for a lot, including Mark Steyn’s legal fees, but then NR must pay for an astonishing amount out of pocket), we anticipate much more to come. Our pleas to you for help, in this very matter, remain, sad to say. The lawsuit aside, the costs of engaging in conservative opinion journalism — that is the bone-marrow essence of National Review’s 65 years of athwart-standing — is costly, relentless, and dependent. Yes, dependent — on those who see NR as a cause, a necessary one, a mutual one, a thing critical for defending the principles we (that “we” includes you) share and cherish, so much so that we are determined to pass them on to the next generation. Our reality: The red ink is so plentiful and persistent that we must stand on our tippy toes, chin up (it may be the only reason Your Humble Correspondent appreciates his ample honker). Also our reality: You are there to help. Our ongoing webathon — which commenced on March 8th (it will run till the 29th) — has seen contributions in all shapes and sizes from (momma mia!) over 2,000 readers as we seek to raise $350,000 to fight these rat-****** blankety blanks who utterly despise freedom and tradition and these United States, and who cloak themselves in moral superiority for one purpose — to control you, conventional plebian, to exert power of you, unwoke neanderthal, to make you genuflect, horrid hoi polloinick. Look at that stamp — unthinkable it was that the American press would one day become foes of free speech and bald-faced liars about their chosen field’s commitment to truth, to who, what, when, where, why, how. Well, Mr. Pulitzer, that one day is upon us. At this time of upheaval and cowardice permeating so many institutions (the academy, tech, media, major corporations) it becomes increasingly clear to thousands, daily, that National Review is the one place that is reliable — for truth, for sanity, for sound conservative judgment. We have counted on you before. We do again. Please help us during this fund-appeal drive. Your donation comes with our deep appreciation, and the thrill of finding you alongside us, in this band of brothers and sisters that Bill Buckley established long ago. And we offer a special thanks to those whose past generosity has kept us in this important legal fight, whose ruling today we cheer as we prepare for its next battle, on behalf of our First Amendment. Now let us get on with the Jolt. But first . . . Point of Personal Privilege One: The new Capital Record podcast is worth your attention and listening. David Bahnsen’s interview this week with longtime NR pal Fr. Robert Sirico, founder of the quite essential Acton Institute, is wonderful, and recommended. Catch it here. Point of Personal Privilege Two: Speaking of longtime NR pals, it would be hard to find one more longtime-ier, and pals-ier, than Neal B. Freeman (he may have written his first article for NR sometime around 1963, was Firing Line’s first producer, ran Bill Buckley’s 1965 mayoral campaign . . .). Neal has written a new book, appropriately in time for Easter, titled Walk with Me: An Invitation to Faith, now available at Amazon. We most heartily encourage you to obtain a copy. One of its more interesting chapters was published recently in the magazine — In the Kitchen with Hitchens. Read it to get a sense of what Neal is up to in a book that is best described as a spiritual memoir. This very inviting offer of companionship on a quest for the Divine proved, for Neal, a thing of fits and starts and dry spells — and of determination. Here’s is how he summed up his journey, and purpose: When you’re walking toward God, there are no easy steps. Happily, the last step is short, clearly demarked and, by that point in your journey, attained with little effort. We all know how warm and welcoming it feels to plant a road-worn shoe on a familiar front porch. And from hard-won, lab-tested experience we know that the steps along the way are many and tentative, some of them misdirected, some of them doubling back on each other. We know the general direction in which we should be headed, but the exact route is beyond our ken and known only to Him. But even the most debauched among us can put one foot in front of the other. There is one step that is different from all the others. By taking it, we announce our willingness to leave behind our old selves. We agree to open the door to the certain perils and uncertain rewards of a new life. By taking that first step, we commit ourselves to completing our journey of faith, or to die trying. The purpose of this book is to invite you to take that first step. Please, walk with me. You’ll regret not doing so. Get Walk with Me here. NAME. RANK. LINK. EDITORIALS
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