Yes, I’d like to ask you to help out National Review. But first . . . how are you doing?
I don’t know about you, but lately I’ve been waking up around six, heading downstairs, getting ready to write The Morning Jolt, taking a look at what news broke overnight . . . and running into a bunch of headlines that sound like twisted practical jokes, fever dreams, and surreal nightmares.
A porn star’s P. T. Barnum–esque lawyer is being treated as a potential presidential contender for the Democratic party. The Pope, fresh off an underwhelming response to another horrific sex-abuse scandal and coverup in the Church, is touting a deal with the Chinese government. Democratic senators are openly proclaiming that the accused must prove their innocence, instead of the other way around. Angry protesters are breaking into restaurants and shouting “Beto is way hotter than you” at Senator Ted Cruz, as if hotness should be the deciding factor in a statewide election. The New Yorker is writing an allegedly devastating exposé and admitting halfway through that they cannot corroborate the accusation at its heart.
Half the time, just reading the news makes me feel like somebody slipped LSD into my coffee.
At moments like this, you really start to appreciate anyone and anything that still sounds sane. People who aren’t trying to grab your attention with wildly misleading clickbait. People who don’t try to push through an implausible lie with gumption and audacity. People who can cut through the nonsense and generate more light than heat. People who know what they’re talking about, take the time to explain the facts, and merge a passion for principles with rigorous analysis.
In short, people like my friends and colleagues at National Review.
Pound for pound, these folks comprise the best line-up in American political journalism, and with vital elections approaching, NR’s trustworthy, reliable, informative campaign coverage is vitally important.
It’s an insane world out there. Every day the political, legal, academic, media, and entertainment worlds throw something at us that would be rejected by a Hollywood screenwriter for being too bizarre and implausible, utterly untethered from common sense, logic, good taste, fundamental principles, or American traditions.
But National Review is your island of sanity.
If you’re a longtime reader, you know what comes next. We need your help (which you can contribute, securely, here). Clickbait would be more profitable. Doing what we do well depends upon the generosity of readers like you.
So kick in what you can — a few bucks here and there for all the times NR has offered illumination in dark times, clarity amid the fog, clear thinking and powerful arguments over the noise and squabbling.
To do otherwise would be . . . insane?
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