I hope that you are having a beneficial Lenten period. Myself, I love this time of year. The weather and landscape are not yet consistently pleasant, but the spring breeze carries with it the promise of approaching joy. It is like one’s last day of work or class before a vacation—the entire trip awaits, and there isn’t any thought to how much time remains until one returns to the everyday grind.
Today is the fourth anniversary of Lawrence Auster’s death. I often wonder what he would have written about the passing scene. How would he have commented on the presidential campaign? And on Trump? One of Auster’s chief public policy interests—the West’s transformation due to Third World immigration—has finally entered the public debate . . . decades after he published The Path to National Suicide: An Essay on Immigration and Multiculturalism. How would he have responded to this rise in awareness—and to Merkel’s disastrous handling of Europe’s invasion, which, as the expression goes, alerted the frog that it was being boiled alive? Would his opinion of Ann Coulter have improved given her championing the cause? What would the latter day convert to the Roman communion have had to say about Francis? Would he have seen a spark of vitality in the “dead isle” after the Brexit vote? It’s a pity (for us) that we haven’t been able to read his daily miscellany of insights into life and philippics against the abominations of the age—along with occasional curmudgeonly complaints about public figures. Memory eternal!