It had been a few months since I’d graduated from college, and I was running out of money and still struggling to find a job. The major on my diploma might have offered a clue as to why: Slavic Languages and Literatures. One night, despairing about my dismal career prospects, I heard my dad call to me from the den. “Hey, there’s a new comedy I just finished called ‘Adventureland.’ I think you’d relate to it,” he said with a grin. I started watching. When I got to a certain scene, it clicked. Cut to two young people talking in …
This article appears as “Reopening the American Mind” in the August 2, 2021, print edition of National Review.
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