After church a bunch of us went out to a Vietnamese place on Mott Street, not far from Chinatown, but on the Little Italy side of Canal; with us was an accountant sort of a fellow who had something to do with National Review, who asked me about my politics. When I said I supposed I was pretty much a … [Read More]

I am on Facebook and my daughter, 24, doesn’t like it; she thinks I should act my age and not hang out on a website created for high school and college kids and recent graduates — never mind that I am, among other things, a college reviewer by trade, or that I was thinking of doing an article about the phenomenon. … [Read More]

A year or so ago the notorious paleo Catholic John Zmirak sent me a notice about a political discussion to take place at the Columbia Law School, and the name of the moderator, Lorenzo Albacete, caught my attention. A magazine called Triumph had been an important part of my political, intellectual, and even spiritual life in the late ‘60s and early … [Read More]

One hundred thirty five years ago, on Christmas Day, an aged and ailing Ralph Waldo Emerson disembarked at Alexandria, the cradle of Hellenistic Christendom, whence the Holy Family had fled Herod long centuries before. Emerson was one of the first Americans to be conscious of living in what seemed to be a post-Christian age, though it was more precisely the post-Puritan, … [Read More]

On the morning of Monday, June 28, 2004, Carol Jean Nicholson fell out of love. A professor of philosophy at Rider University, best known as Alma Mater to Woody Allen’s underage beloved, Dr. Nicholson would liken her experience to Bertrand Russell’s realization, while riding a bicycle, that he no longer cared for his wife. Nicholson wasn’t riding a bike but reading … [Read More]

Columbus Avenue and One Hundred Seventh Street. An Albanian restaurant serves red snapper with pineapple-mango salsa on a thirty dollar prix fixe. White Harlem, in the notable phrase of America’s Greatest Living Philosopher, who grew up here. George Carlin, I mean, who was awarded the AGLP title by the late Robert Anton Wilson, who should know. It was Wilson whom the … [Read More]

Not very long ago I walked into my bedroom and found The Art and Science of Love at the foot of the bed. I dwell in a typical Manhattan apartment, where any book may turn up anywhere without notice. It happens. I didn’t actually recall buying this particular old paperback, but that happens too. Maybe it was a message. If so … [Read More]

Tuesday, September 11 was a warm, bright day. I stopped at the post office to send some express mail, and reported to work as usual on the thirteenth floor of 101 Barclay Street, the technology headquarters built for the Irving Trust. From the sixteenth floor cafeteria there was an unobstructed view of the Twin Towers. Behind them stood little St. Nicholas’ … [Read More]

You didn’t see these headlines last month, and neither did I.  I did get an email from a retired heirarch of a church in Asia with the subject line: “Fire bombing of Bishop J____’s house,” and the news that a stolen car, evidently packed with cans of gasoline, exploded in back of a modest home with a small church in the … [Read More]

Russell Kirk is in the news again, and it does my heart good. If I were to attempt to write of what I owe this great man’s writings and example I would be indulging my ego at the reader’s expense, something I am sure Kirk would gently deprecate. Let me tell you rather of how he fits into the big picture … [Read More]