I've seen more and more newsletters appearing. Are they new or am I noticing them more? Either way, they're competition, and I'm taking them all on. Hey, losers: you think you can match me and the content that I bring to people's inboxes? Think again, son. I'll tear your bullet points out of your emails and shove them down your throat.
Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes.
Obligatory shilling. This week I wrote two articles for the Spectator USA: one on the appeal of The Joe Rogan Experience to men and one on the morbidly fascinating riots in America and the protests they have spawned across the world.
I also wrote a piece on social distancing in Poland for the Spectator Coffee House blog that is quite disappointing to read back because it is so lifeless. Opinion commentary, for better or worse, is a form of entertainment - and while being tedious is better than being untruthful it is still embarrassing.
Not smart, just smug. Here is a kind of sentence that is always annoying: “You know it is possible to believe X and Y?” For example, “You know it is possible to oppose police brutality and riots?” My problem is not that it is wrong. I oppose both of these phenomena as well! My problem is that it congratulates its author for their sparkling transcendent wisdom without doing any work. What does it mean to believe these things? What are their implications? How to put them into practice? But the author is too busy pounding themselves on the back to think about such details.
Decline, documented. Aris Roussinos, one of the best journalists and writers in the Western world today, has written a scorching article for Unherd about how US cultural complacence and deindustrialization have set the nation up for failure. Naturally, one hopes it is not too late for revival.
Laying the groundwork. Speaking of which, the very smart Santi Ruiz writes for the American Mind about what we need to build in order to build.
A prolific man. Here is a fun essay about Georges Simenon, who is best known for writing hundreds of books and sleeping with hundreds of women. Most of the novels were forgettable pulp fiction. Most of the women were prostitutes. Still, Simenon wrote some beautiful books. Genius is no moralist.
Mumford and sons. At First Things, Philip Jefferies writes an interesting review of Eugene McCarraher's The Enchantments of Mammon, and discusses the potential for conservative critique of capitalism.
RIP Danny Havoc. Last week I wrote about how wrestlers so often die young. This week, independent wrestling legend Danny Havoc died at the age of 34, months after his young wife died from heart failure. This poor guy had been putting himself through Hell since he began his career at the age of 18, but that was nothing compared to a random card that he was dealt by fate. Enjoy the good times, friends.
Polish postcards. Here is a picture I took on my run to Chechło-Nakło today. It was a beautiful morning, and it felt good to get something out of the summer.
Have a lovely week,