But who is Freeman Beckwith?
Or more correctly, what is Freeman Beckwith?


Freeman Beckwith is what more and more people refer to these days as a blogger. But he himself admits that it may not be ever so, and, in fact, it is of relatively recent inheritance, so little so as to make the label feel rather like an unhaberdashered suit of clothing. Not exactly skin.

But he does love to write, and he is cross with the poor quality of coverage being doled out like so many Eminems. Deep down, however, he feels more like Baruch, Jeremiah's scribe, or Baruch the angel that gave Adam the Apple, who spoke to Heracles, Moses and Jesus, and comes back periodically to make sure there are still those whose receptors are appropriately attuned -- as it is they, and certainly not the whores who now gladly part the wallet for hush tickets and fame...and look only to each other for inspiration, information and a pat on the back.

Well, I shant be doing that. Wisdom is from whence I hope to gather my pearls, and thus to diseminate to you, my fair and only reader. And mixed with this stew, I hope to bid adieu to the vinegars and astringents, and focus the eye upon more beautiful vistas, sweeter to the taste, yet cradling golden nuggets from the Ancients.

Well...sometimes. Other times I may just bitch.

If I am lucky, they will generally contain a title, and be roughly the length of a standard column, so as not to bore too long.

Topics, I should think, will include Politics, Religion, Humor, Language, Culture, Southern Life, Music, and other entirely related subjects.

Where's that Publish Button?