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Robert Frost begins one of his best known poems by stating, “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” The New England poet is appropriately vague: he does not know…

I'll take the old gal with a few well-earned wrinkles that fit soft and snug like a favorite glove. It's the land, stupid, and boy is she a thing of…

Patrick Deneen's excellent post this morning on populism, directly invoking Kansas, gives me the occassion to repost a short essay I wrote last year for my on again off again (more off…