CHARITY FOR NONE, MALICE TOWARD ALL
But then I met Tiffany. Or, more precisely, Tiffany’s mother. And, after a ten-month crash course in why the poor are poor, I am squishy no more.
And so it is, that on the eve of the merriest of seasons, I have finally become a compassionless conservative, because of a deadbeat mother who bowls. I now stand in defense of Darwin and natural selection, and of Ebenezer Scrooge, the real Scrooge – before he went soft like me – Scrooge, at his noblest, the way he was before the onset of those pesky midnight visitors. I think of him fondly and recall his inspiring words: “Are there no prisons? Are there no poorhouses?”
It’s time to rethink old Scrooge. Ebenezer knew the truth: No good deed goes unpunished.
As a mother, I still worry about Tiffany and her brother, but, as a conservative, I know that as long as the neighborhood – the village – cared for them, her mother never would. Maybe, with the help of a jail and a poorhouse, the little family will get it together, discover the value of work. It’s a long shot, but, as the magnet on my refrigerator says, “Dreams come true at Christmas.”
One wonders what would possess NR, the bastion of Brahmin noblesse oblige, to publish such a thing? I haven’t read the magazine in years, but surely its editorial stance hasn’t shifted that far from the days when Bill Buckley was at the helm? NR has steadfastly opposed governmental handouts, not private charity.