I’ve been reading National Review for 25 years, starting when I was still in school. The magazine taught me a lot I didn’t pick up in the classroom. Who James Burnham was (the first issue I read had a long essay on the relevance of his thought to the post–Cold War world). The case against national health insurance (“an expensive way to die,” ran one cover line). The meaning of “Quod licet Jovi non licet bovi” (the little Latin I have, I owe to Bill Buckley). Who Lazar Kaganovich was (the obituary for him had an asterisk after the “R.I.P.”: “Only after a decent interval”). What conservatism meant, and what conservatives thought.
I’ve been reading the magazine ever since, and now the website is the first thing I read in the morning. Just about every day I learn something from National Review, and usually quite a few things.
I rely on National Review to explain to me: why the Centers for Disease Control has it in for e-cigarettes; who Patti Stanger is, and why she matters; how Oklahoma Republicans are viewing the presidential candidates; whether that new book on Obama’s foreign policy is any good; where the reasoning in Judge Posner’s latest edict went astray; which unfortunate victim will next experience Kevin Williamson’s righteous wrath; and a great many other things I would not otherwise have learned.
If, like me, you are grateful for what you learn every day from National Review, and grateful too that it keeps teaching, please consider giving generously. It will help your education, and mine, continue.