On the homepage today, I have a piece about a speech — a Nobel lecture, delivered by Dmitry Muratov last month. With Maria Ressa, the journalist from the Philippines, Muratov shared the Nobel Peace Prize. He is the editor in chief of Novaya Gazeta, one of the few independent organs remaining in Russia. Six of his colleagues at the paper have been murdered.

Obviously, Muratov is very brave to do the work he does, and so is Maria Ressa, and so are many others. Muratov delivered a beautiful Nobel lecture: simple, true, and wise. (I don’t say that Ressa did not; I haven’t read it. I intend to.)

Rather than say more about this issue, here and now, I think I’ll publish some mail.

In a couple of recent writings, I’ve brought up the national divide, secession talk — all that stuff. The Confederacy had its own constitution, its own flag, etc. Unofficially, it had a national anthem: “God Save the South,” whose refrain is “God’s on our side!”

I’ve quoted Reagan — who now and then would say some version of this: “The question is not whether God is on our side; it’s whether we are on His side.”

Some readers pointed out that the source of this wisdom is Lincoln (and it surely goes back further than that). According to a famous account, a clergyman said to Lincoln, “I hope the Lord is on our side.” Lincoln answered, “I am not at all concerned about that, for I know that the Lord is always on the side of the right. But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that I and this nation should be on the Lord’s side.”

Pretty good (pretty great).

Also in recent days, I’ve written about a once-famous book — wildly best-selling. This was some 50 years ago: None Dare Call It Conspiracy. I thought of the book — thought of the phrase, really: the title — when reading about these January 6-ers who have been charged with seditious conspiracy.

None dare call it sedition? insurrection? People can be very, very touchy about these terms.

Anyway, re the book, Steve Metz weighed in with this: “When I was 16 I was invited to attend a local John Birch meeting and they gave me that. They also gave me a copy of the Communist Manifesto, which I still have.”

I’ll be darned.

In a Nashville journal, I wrote about a “small world” experience, and a reader sent me this, which amazed me:

Jay,
I think I have you beat. (Not that it’s a competition.)
My wife and I live in the rural area of Northeast Pa. and there is a small number of people to interact with, as you would imagine.
A number of years ago, my wife went to a dude ranch out in Colorado to go horseback riding and she gets a tap on the shoulder. When she turns around, she is greeted by a young woman who is a waitress at our local restaurant. Apparently, she worked there (at the dude ranch) during the summer months.
Of all the dude ranches out west, this waitress happens to work at the same ranch that my wife decided to go to. None of the math teachers at my school could give me the odds of that happening, but I imagine they’re slim to none. (Two random people from the same town, randomly seeing each other at a random ranch thousands of miles away.)
It kind of blows my mind thinking about it.
Small world indeed.

For sure.

Finally, I want to tell you how a fellow journalist ended his note to me — this was on New Year’s Eve: “Best (though I’ll settle for better) for 2022, . . .”

Best, or better, to all of you, too!