In the spirit of C.S. Lewis, Kevin O’Brien emails his friend Malcolm for the holidays, and in the exchange he reveals Malcolm’s spiritual, intellectual, and political ambiguity.
We have not only paved paradise and put up a parking lot; we have paved paradise and put up a prison.
Branson, Missouri, exists as a kind of sign. It’s the abandoned suburban shopping mall of the Ozarks—or at least is fast becoming that.
Is the shopping mall our new savior? Kevin O’Brien waxes on the artificiality of commercial and retail goliaths.
Kevin O’Brien explores how, in many ways, Orestes Brownson was the American Bl. John Henry Newman.
When the family is torn asunder by divorce, pornography, adultery, same-sex “marriage” and the like, society as a whole suffers.
It’s never enough—til we’ve had enough. We’ll never be fed, until we’re fed up. It’s all unreal, until we get real.