“Exsilioque domos et dulcia limina mutant,
Atque alio patriam quaerunt sub sole iacentem.”
—Virgil, Georgics II.511-12
Honestly, why bother any more? If there is any unifying theme in the scribblings of genuine, bona-fide American conservatives, it is that our country is lost, whether to whoremongers or warmongers—or both. Drum sets in the chancel, and fairies in the pulpit. Good jobs shipped to Mexico and China, and semi-loads of cheap Chinese goods and unassimilating Mexicans shipped here. Grown-ups who know how to read but won’t, and children taught to solve math problems by drawing pictures. Republicans and Democrats dropping bombs on the Middle East, and Democrats and Republicans blowing up the definition of marriage. An upcoming election that will be, in its literal meaning, a zombie apocalypse. And it seems there is little or nothing we can do to change any of it.
These are real and significant concerns, and while it pains me to say it, I think we would be better off ignoring them for just a moment, along with the news in general, to ponder the utterly esoteric and impertinent meaning of a 77-year-old essay on Yankees and Rebels, as well as the very narrow but practical question of what to do with the graves.
He had moved...