Cross of Iron

16 April 2026

On this day in 1953, American President Dwight D. Eisenhower, a war hero just three months into his term in the White House, addressed the American Society of Newspaper Editors. Here’s part of what he said that day:

“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.

This world in arms in not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children.

The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals. It is some 50 miles of concrete highway.

We pay for a single fighter with a half million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people.

This, I repeat, is the best way of life to be found on the road the world has been taking.

This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron.”

The details and costs have changed somewhat, but this testimony is still true, over 70 years later. I am no pacifist; this side of the eschaton, modern heavy bombers are sometimes necessary. I’m glad we have good ones, and I’m glad to see us use them when necessary. Given the timing of this post, let me be very clear that I’m glad to see our fighters, bombers, and rockets in the air in the latest iteration of our millennium-and-a-half-long struggle against state-sponsored Islamist threats to the world. Deus vult!

(Yes, I know where that comes from. Yes, I mean it. No, we don’t get everything right; nobody does. No, I’m not embarrassed to associate with Christians who defend the world from Islamist conquest; why would I be? In 1400 years of conflict so far, they’ve held back the tide admirably. The worst you can say about them is that they sometimes stoop to acting the way Islamists act all the time.)

But I can be glad (on balance) that we’re paying the costs while keeping my eyes open about those costs. Until all the nations of the earth come to terms with the fact that Someone already hung on that cross for us, we will keep paying.

Compared to bombers, missionaries are cheap. Let’s fund some.


The Peach and the Turnip

17 February 2026

When you pick a peach and dig up a turnip, you have two very different things on your hands. Lots of people will eat a peach straight off the tree. There are few better ways to enjoy a peach, actually. Very few will pull a turnip out of the ground, rinse it off, and take a big bite standing right there in the garden. 

Turnips can be wonderful, but we have to be convinced. It takes a good recipe and a skilled cook to get us to fall in love. And even then, some people just don’t like turnips. It’s ok; we all understand. Even if we think “You haven’t had turnips until you’ve had Aunt Minnie’s famous maple-glazed basil turnip slaw,” we understand that some folks don’t like them.

Peaches, on the other hand…if it’s hard to improve on a peach straight off the tree, it’s also hard to ruin one. I made a pretty bad peach pie once—bad enough that I wouldn’t give it away—but I happily had a slice with breakfast every day until it was gone. You almost have to burn peaches to ruin them, and even then…I once didn’t stir a batch of peach jam enough, and burned the bottom. I transferred what I could save to another pot, tasted it, and discovering a pleasantly smoky flavor, added a little Laphroig to accent it. It was divine. Everything I’ve ever made with peaches, I’ve been happy to eat, even if I wouldn’t serve it to a guest. Literally everything.

And so it is with school subjects. Geometry is a turnip: delightful in its way, but getting most people to like it takes skilled preparation and presentation. History, though…history is a peach. Everybody loves a good story, and history is one long story, with lots of little vignettes and episodes embedded in it, all of them crafted by the best Storyteller to ever live. When someone doesn’t like history, it’s because they had a teacher that actively ruined it for them.

Unfortunately, the profession seems to be full of people who delight in doing exactly that.