Happy Friday, Gentle Readers,
I pray this missive finds you well.
This will be the last Weekend Parting Shot from your humble correspondent. In fact, this will be the last column from your humble correspondent. No, I’m not leaving because Paula did, and all the cool kids are doing it. Anyway, let’s save the tearful goodbyes on the train platform until the end.
In the meantime…
Tuition Dollars at Work
I dunno, I could be wrong, but I always thought graffiti was the purview of hoodlums and overgrown immature people who just couldn’t resist defacing property for… reasons. In Park City, the graffiti artist Banksy created a piece on a wall on Main Street, and the locals were thrilled. Somebody once tried to add to it, and a frame and plexiglass now protect the Banksy artwork. So maybe I am in need of cultural enrichment.
That said, Banksy is not at work at Reed College in Oregon, where the Presidential Council on Campus Climate recently passed a ban on bathroom graffiti. We aren’t talking about murals or tagging, we are talking about people leaving one screed or another on the wall of the college bathrooms. According to Campus Reform, the college has permitted bathroom graffiti for years, so students could “express themselves.” I guess student newspapers, websites, boycotts, and protests just aren’t enough. Recently, the college discovered “a series of recent incidents in which hateful and harmful language was found written in restroom spaces.”
There have been incidents of swastikas and antisemitic messages. In 2016, someone opted to leave a few thoughts that were branded as racist, homophobic, and “pro-Trump.”
At least one student was appalled and called the decision to have students refrain from writing on the bathroom walls a “blatant abuse of power.” This student wrote in the Quest:
The graffiti artist encounters the GCC basement bathroom as a taciturn consumer but slips in with a Sharpie and leaves with the knowledge that they can reconfigure urban space to suit their desires regardless of whether admin authorizes doing so. When they have that knowledge, the whole urban world opens up. Under capitalism, the city is a highly striated space dominated by market forces, which legitimize their own uses and abuses of urban space and delegitimize any attempt by the people who actually live and work here to make the city their own. The demand to cease making our own modifications to the built environment of Reed is deeper than a suppression of our self-expression; it is a suppression of our self-production which claims further power for admin.
Well, when you put it that way, it sounds much more impressive than the collection of phone numbers, dirty jokes, and ditties about a certain man from a New England city that you usually see, at least in men’s rooms. To hear this person tell it, the knowledge inscribed on the hallowed walls of the latrines at Reed College is practically on par with the wisdom in the Lost Library of Alexandria. A 21st-century Iliad or Magna Carta may be right over a toilet paper dispenser, and now we’ll never know.
Actually, it just sounds like he’s mad that he can’t write on the walls anymore.
Signing Off
Believe it or not, I was writing for Townhall, I think, as long ago as 2009, although the official archives only go back to 2011. During my time in radio, I interviewed many people from what was then known as Pajamas Media, including Paula Bolyard, Vodkapundit, and even Victor Davis Hanson, who was a regular contributor to the site at the time. I struck up a friendship with PJ editor Brian Preston, who had been a regular on my show and who was kind enough to help me get back in the game in 2020 with this piece.
Looking back over my body of work, I am surprised at how much I churned out over the last five years. I had my fair share of clunkers and splats, but I’d like to think I cleared the centerfield wall a few times. Of everything I wrote, my favorite is still this 2022 article about a gaggle of climate protesters in Germany who glued themselves to the floor of an auto museum. I still chuckle over that, and as a writer, I usually hate my own stuff.
The pundit field has become increasingly crowded of late, and I don’t want to write about just anything for no other reason than to have my name out there. Once you do that, you risk becoming a hack, and I could end up making videos like “Lincoln Brown Reacts to Woke Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipes.”
I have a business to run, and for three years now, I have been trying to launch a charity. Christ commanded us to care for the “least of these,” and it is high time I got my backside in gear in that respect. And to be blunt, I have been growing weary of finding reasons to be affronted, and would like to do something for others with the years I have left.
We live in an age rife with protest, angst, and a desire for destruction and conquest. I’m going to take a shot at building something. There comes a time to put politics aside and get on with keeping a promise to God. I would rather create than narrate, and ultimately, the reward is in the doing, not the having. Granted, launching a non-partisan charity sounds a little quixotic in this day and age, and time will tell how I do.
A few columns back, I mentioned that I was becoming more of a storyteller than a journalist. To that end, I have been working on an anthology off and on for the better part of five years. With a bit of luck, I may find a publisher for the thing, and it may find its way onto your bookshelf or tablet.
Finally, looking over my collection of articles, I think I have said everything I have to say.
I am leaving you in extremely capable hands. PJ has a wealth of talented writers who have a lot to offer.
I want to thank Mrs. Brown for her support and, particularly, her tolerance in allowing me to mention her on these pages. Writers are not always easy to live with!
I also want to thank everyone at PJ Media and Townhall for giving me a platform for all these years. Godspeed to you all; you will do great things.
Finally, I want to thank you, Gentle Readers. A columnist is nothing without an audience, and over the years, you have been kind enough to read my work and offer compliments and critiques. It has been a privilege and a pleasure.
Wine recommendation: Last Call
Because time, gentlemen (and ladies).
The picture before you is of a bottle of Dago Red. My wife and her entire family are Italian, and that is what they call it, and what they told me to call it. So there. This wine was made by one of her relatives.
The thing to note about this wine is that it is homemade. It was crafted with love and for friends and family. You won’t find it on any store shelves, and it far outstrips the best offerings from Napa, simply due to its origin. The bottle you see graced the table at a family gathering.
The most important thing about wine isn’t its vintage or varietals. It isn’t the acidity, the texture, the tannins, the nose, or the finish. It’s about spending time with people you love. The best wine is the one you enjoy, as long as you have someone to share it with. That is what makes a good wine.
That’s it for me. Have a great weekend, and I won’t be seeing you next time.
God Bless,
Lincoln Brown
Just because I am leaving doesn’t mean you have to. In fact, it will be well worth your time to stick around. You can get the most out of your PJ experience by becoming a VIP member. You can sign up and learn more about the perks of being a PJ insider when you click here. Don’t forget to use promo code FIGHT for 60% off the regular price. Tell ‘em Lincoln sent you. They’ll probably say, “Lincoln who?” But don’t worry, you’ll still get the discount.
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