You will be free of Impromptus until next week, but my fingers still itch. Besides, you can’t sit around eating Christmas cookies all day. Half the day will do.
It has come to my attention that there’s a notion going about: National Review is “insufficiently supportive” of Mark Steyn, given recent fisticuffs here on the Corner. This is too absurd to address. But address it I will, because even the absurd must be addressed now and then.
Years ago, I told Mark something, and I will confide it to you now. It’s not a great secret. Reading him is one of the pleasures of my life — one of its consolations, one of its delights. I know this is true of countless other readers as well.
When we were in kindergarten, we were taught that everyone is different and unique, same as snowflakes. Well, to my eye, snowflakes tend to look alike. And people often seem alike. Except for some — they stand undoubtedly alone. Mark, of course, is such a “oner.” (That is a word you sometimes see in crossword puzzles — a one-of-a-kind person, a oner.)
Jason Steorts is a oner too, and so is pretty much everyone else who works at NR. We have quite a menagerie. None of us is Joe Normal, I think.
Personally, I “support” Mark Steyn like I do milkshakes, Beethoven, and the Detroit Tigers. The magazine at large does too (even if some support the Yankees and other lesser entities).
As I said, I can’t believe I’m addressing this issue: Does NR support Mark Steyn? Can you make a shoe smell (as the kid says to Rodney in Caddyshack)? There are many question marks in the world, but NR and Steyn is not one of them. By the longest shot imaginable.
So, ask me a hard one next time — like maybe what to do about Iran, especially with Obama et al. holding power in Washington. I’m going back to my cookies.