The Attack

I have enjoyed reading Kurt Schlichter’s Kelly Turnbull novels of an America divided between red and blue. Despite certain flaws, Kelly is something of a Gary Stu, and the effects of a national split would be far worse than Schlichter imagines; the series is fun to read, leavened with Schlichter’s humor. I might complain the liberal villains are too cartoonishly over the top. Still, as Libs of TikTok has demonstrated, leftists are determined to be as cartoonishly over the top as possible. If anything, Schlichter has difficulty keeping up with leftist insanity.

The Attack is not like Kurt Schlichter’s other fiction. There is little of Schlichter’s humor to be seen. There are no steely heroes who enjoy blowing away the bad guys. There are no insane leftists who use weird new pronouns. There are only ordinary American men and women trying to prevail in the worst terrorist acts in American history.

The Attack was inspired by the October 7 Hamas attack on Israel. Kurt Schlichter decided to write a book about the possibility of such a terrorist attack on the United States. Schlichter originally intended to write a nonfiction book but was persuaded that a novel would be more engaging to the reader. The trouble with attempting a novel depicting a massive terrorist assault on the United States is that writing on such a scale would require a book the size of a sweeping Tolstoyan epic with a cast of thousands of characters to do the subject justice. Such an epic could not be written quickly. It would, perhaps, take years. By that time, the attack Schlichter’s book is intended to alert us about could have become real.

Instead, Schlichter chose to create a fictitious oral history, rather like World War Z. This proved to be the correct choice. It is the only way to properly explore the many ways in which America is dangerously vulnerable to an atrocity similar to that experienced by Israel. In the Attack, Schlichter describes a three-day assault by ten thousand Islamic terrorists who have crossed our southern border aided by Mexican drug cartels. After weeks or months of preparing, the terrorist cells are activated and attack their targets, assisted by leftist “revolutionaries”, mostly college students. On the first day they attack public spaces, the obvious terrorist targets. The second day, the terrorists move to residential areas to kill and rape as many civilians as possible. Schools are a particular target on this second day of terror. On the third and final day of horror, infrastructure is the target, along with devastating cyberattacks that bring down the internet. The result is a shattered country with hundreds of thousands dead and many millions affected.

In The Attack, we experience the full horror of a series of terrorist attacks on America as witnessed by a whole gamut of characters. We read the stories of first responders on the scenes of multiple attacks, the victims and survivors of those attacks, and a confession by a captured terrorist before he is executed. We hear the stories of those whose job it was to anticipate an attack, who tell why the system failed. We read in raw detail what rescuers found when they arrived too late and the testimony of a little girl whose parents were murdered in front of her after she was raped.

The Attack is not a book for the faint-hearted. It is one of the scariest books I have ever read, the more so because it could become a true story. Millions of people would love to bring the Great Satan down and would be perfectly willing to sacrifice their own lives for a chance of martyrdom. Our southern border under the Biden administration is essentially nonexistent. It would be all too easy to smuggle in an army of thousands, a few at a time.

Yet, The Attack is essentially optimistic. America is attacked but not defeated. America is devastated but not broken. In the moment of crisis, Americans fight back and prevail against the terrorists despite a lack of leadership from Washington. America emerges from the Attack stronger and more determined. Perhaps this is the true lesson of The Attack, America is better than either its leaders or its enemies believe it to be. We can only hope we don’t need to prove our goodness in such a way as Kurt Schlichter writes.

Read this book, and pray it remains fiction.

New Year’s Day

I think that New Year’s Day must be my least favorite holiday. The problem is the date, January 1. This has to be the worst time to start off the new year. It is only a week after Christmas. All the excitement of the Christmas season has dissipated and there is a general impression of anti-climax. The holidays are over and it is time to go back to the general routine of everyday life. In addition, January is the coldest, dreariest month of the year and January 1 is right in the middle of winter. I know that winter officially begins on the winter solstice, December 21 or 22, but in midwestern North America, the cold weather begins about a month or more before the solstice. It is possible to forget the dreariness of winter during the Christmas season, but by January, it feels that winter has been here forever and will never end.

It seems to me that it would be better to start the new year at the transition between one season and the next, preferably when winter becomes spring. What would be more appropriate than to start the new year at the beginning of Spring, when the cycle of nature is renewed and new life springs up? Spring is a time of new hopes and beginnings, so why not start the new year at the vernal equinox, March 21? If starting the new year at the beginning of a month seems weird, why not start the new year on March 1 or April 1? Well, maybe starting the new year on April Fool’s Day is not such a good idea. Why do we start the new year on January 1 anyway?

We have the Romans to thank for the date of New Year’s Day. as well as for our calendar, which is derived from the ancient Roman calendar. Originally, the Roman calendar did have March as the first month of the year. According to Roman legend, Rome’s founder Romulus established a ten-month calendar, beginning in March and extending to December. This is why our ninth through twelfth months, September to December have names meaning seventh through tenth months. Obviously, this ten-month calendar didn’t work out at all, so Romulus’s successor, Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome, added the months of January and February.

It is not clear how true these legends are, but the twelve-month calendar attributed to Numa was used until Julius Caesar reformed the calendar in 46 BC. At first, the year continued to start in March, but during the republic, new consuls began their terms of office on the kalends, or first day, of January, named for Janus the double-headed god of new beginnings. The Romans did not number their years forward from a past year, as we do, Instead, they named each year after the consuls who served for that year. So, instead of a particular year being 132 since whatever, it would be the year Titus Maximus and Gaius Flavius were consuls. For this reason, it seemed to make sense to start the new year with the beginning of the consuls’ terms, and January first gradually became accepted as the first day of the new year, and when Julius Caesar introduced his Julian calendar, the first of January was officially established as the new year.

 

The Roman god Janus

After the fall of the Roman Empire in the West, New Year’s Day began to be seen as a holdover from Rome’s pagan past, and a variety of dates were used as New Year’s Day, including Christmas, March 1, and March 25. Calendars still began with January, however, leaving the actual date the new year began up to whoever had the calendar. January 1 was restored as New Year’s Day when Pope Gregory XIII promulgated the Gregorian Calendar in 1582. As the Gregorian Calendar became established as the most widely used calendar in the world, January 1 became the first day of the year worldwide. This means thanks to the Romans and Pope Gregory XIII we are stuck with the new year starting in the dead of winter, instead of spring, and there is nothing I can do about it.