Oh . . . baby . . . yes! Yes! Yes!
Sexiest. President. Ever.
"He felt that he was in possession of some impossible good news, which made every other thing a triviality, but an adorable triviality." -- G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday, Chapter XV
The New Criterion: Last fall, I received in the mail an intriguing little postcard that read essentially: You will like our magazine. Please subscribe. How bold! How mysterious! How disarming! So, for the special introductory price of $19.95, I took a chance and subscribed. The first few issues were set aside in the bustle and chaos of home remodeling and the holidays. In February, I finally sat down to read the latest issue they had sent. I was hooked.
To read The New Criterion is, for me, to glimpse into a world that is in shadowy, alluring remove from my own. This cultural review touches upon every aspect of the arts -- theater, music, painting, sculpture, writing, etc. I read in February's issue an article on ballet by Laura Jacobs that was as strange to me as any subject could be; and yet, I was captivated by her ability to make something so unfamiliar relevant through vibrant imagery and a passion for the art.
The New Criterion also takes contemporary poetry more seriously than I ever will, so I tip my hat to them. They are keeping what is real and true alive in the cultural realm. I can hardly wait for April's issue to hit my mailbox.
Gilbert Magazine: How do I love Gilbert Mag? Let me count the ways . . . I love it for its congenial spirit. I love it for its interviews. I love it for its recurring columns. I love it for its impish sense of fun. I love it for its Clerihews. I love it for its serious side. I love it for its self-deprecating side. I love it for its meaty, chewy deliciousness. I love it for its unapologetic Catholicism. Most of all, I love it because it was founded, is run by, and is contributed to by people who not only love G.K. Chesterton, but really, truly get him. And that is a beautiful thing, indeed.
I squeal with delight whenever I get in the mail one of any of the three mags to which I subscribe; but, I think I squeal loudest when it is Gilbert Magazine.
Liberty: I have read Liberty for so long, that I cannot remember when I first peeked between its inexorably blue and white covers. I do remember buying issues when I was in college, and, of course, my father subscribed for years, so you might say that much of my political and intellectual development was influenced by this quirky, rebellious, and always provocative periodical. So, write to their editor with complaints.
My dad and I have read and discussed Liberty for so many years that the writers are like old friends (or foes, as the case may be). Our conversations go something like this: Did you read Doug Casey's latest yet? Oh goodness, he was crazy as always. Yep. Hey, Kostelanetz got any new essays about how great and overlooked he is? No, but he describes his apartment in great detail. Oh . . . Didn't you just love WordWatch? Stephen Cox rules! Totally. Hey, Tim Slagle's "Reflections" bit was cool this month . . . And so on and so on -- you catch my drift.
Liberty is one big, squabbling, irritable, only-slightly-dysfunctional family full of people who -- despite differences on, well, just about every possible detail -- have come together to write passionately, persistently, and penetratingly in defense of classical liberalism. It is a glorious expression of America, and I never cease to be grateful for its contibutors and editors.

Canadians rock! We salute the native land of Carolyn Arends, L.M. Montgomery, Isabel Paterson, Mark Steyn, Tim Horton's (Toujours Frais Café!), SharlaZ, Ryan the Lutheran, Rebecca from BC, some of the best comedians and comediennes, and countless other creative artists, intellectuals, and all-around nice folks who enrich our lives! (And I must not forget the lovely Robin Sparkles!)
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