Magazine November 13, 2017, Issue


(Photo: Wikimedia Commons)

There’s an angry man who stalks the blocks around my downtown office, scowling and muttering a sotto voce recitation of the ills of the world. Never knew what griped his heart — until the day when he stopped to collect expended cigarettes from a can of sand, making one smoke out of the bits in the butts.

“Then in 1812,” he hissed, “they burned it down. They burned down the damn White House.”

He was mad at . . . the British? No one’s mad at the British anymore. Maybe the anti-colonialists who rail against imperialism, sure, but there are so many

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In This Issue



Books, Arts & Manners




IN PLATO’S CAVE As lights in some cheap movie lit Reveal the filth in which we sit; And eyes around recoil in fright: In Plato’s cave we hate the light. But dream of being in ...


Kindergarten Controversy We at Catherine Cook School are shocked and disappointed that National Review would allow Frederick Hess and Grant Addison’s article, “Classes of Kindergarteners” (October 15), to be printed without ...
The Week

The Week

‐ So it took only 20 percent of the U.S. uranium supply to make Hillary radioactive. ‐ Former president George W. Bush gave an address in New York on “the Spirit ...


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