Biden Admin to Remove William Penn Statue From Park at Independence Hall, Replace With Indian History Lesson


By R. Cort Kirkwood (The New American) Not satisfied with erasing the memory of the Confederacy and its heroes by renaming anything and everything under Defense Department control that honored Southern heroes, the Biden administration has moved on to erasing the history of American whites in general. Last week, the National Park Service (NPS) announced that it would remove a statue...

The Dogs of War


By Wayne Allensworth In Act 3, Scene 1 of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Marc Antony, alone with the body of the murdered Caesar, pledges to avenge his death. He speaks of the coming bloody war, and the horrors to come: Blood and destruction shall be so in use,And dreadful objects so familiar,That mothers shall but smile when they beholdTheir infants quartered with the hands of war,All pity...

Sing a Poem, Recite a Song


By Wayne Allensworth For nearly 40 years, your humble observer’s life has been connected in one way or another with Russia, or, better still, the Russian world, that broad cultural expanse that extends across much of Eurasia. And from the beginning of that journey, what drew me in as much as anything about Russia and the Russians were that country’s impressive cultural achievements. A tragic...

The Motive for Haley’s Civil War Question: To Prove That Republicans Are Bigots


By R. Cort Kirkwood (The New American) Courtesy of an obvious plant for the Democrats or a GOP rival who appeared at Nikki Haley’s recent town hall in Berlin, New Hampshire, the new gotcha question for GOP political candidates is this: “What caused the Civil War?” And as Haley just learned, any answer but “slavery” will blow up like a plugged Confederate Howitzer at Vicksburg. And so the former...



By Wayne Allensworth The old gentleman had told me that he was very grateful. Grateful to God for all the blessings he had experienced in his long and eventful life. Grateful for the friends he had made, and grateful for his family. I had sat across from him and watched his eyes soften and then twinkle a bit. He was pale and declining, but for a moment he almost seemed hale and if not hearty, at...

The Battle for Christmas


By Wayne Allensworth The ghosts of Christmases past are still very much with us. I’m quite thankful they are, for those “ghosts” remind us of a time that was less sterile and less fragmented. So, it’s no surprise that the proponents of “progress” have made war on those ghosts and on that particular holiday.  Tom Piatak has done great service in his efforts to note and counter what...

The Idea of Progress and the American Dilemma


By Wayne Allensworth The idea of progress holds that mankind has advanced in the past … is now advancing and will continue to advance through the foreseeable future… The idea of progress is a synthesis of the past and a prophecy of the future. It is inseparable from a sense of time flowing in a unilinear fashion. — Robert Nisbet, History of the Idea of Progress The 21st Century has been...

Laddybuck NR Editor, Who Doesn’t Know What He Doesn’t Know, Smears Buchanan


R. Cort Kirkwood My late dear friend and mentor Howard Phillips, one of the few conservatives who went broke because he didn’t sell out to Conservatism Inc., gave me the following advice: “Never attribute to malice what can be explained by ignorance.” We must therefore not be angry with a young conservative you’ve never heard of, Jack Butler, who recently suggested at National Review that Pat...

An Ornament for Christmas


By Wayne Allensworth I had to be careful. The ornaments were wrapped, each one in tissue paper and some of them were very old. I had dropped a couple of them and they shattered. As brittle as dried leaves. Their skins had grown thin as they had grown old. Christmas ornaments collected by my mother over time. So many Santa Claus ornaments, old St. Nick in his jolliest attire, thick beard and...

A Falling Star, a Bird’s Nest


By Wayne Allensworth A light in the night sky on a prairie horizon. A falling star passing through a deep blue firmament that phases ever so subtly to lighter shades of blue bordered by a wisp of cottony clouds. The red orange hues of the setting sun. Stark tree limbs seem to reach for the star on a smoky autumn evening. Let your eyes stay riveted on the star as long as you can see its proud...

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