One of the things I endeavor to remind people of consistently when I am asked to speak to groups around the country is to consider the possibility that we are led by a pack of idiots. This is not out of any animus toward our leadership class, but borne out of experience.

You have the right to free speech as an American - you have no right to use YouTube to do it. And the mobs that exist can form very quickly if they are offended by your presence there.

We have all had the experience at some point in our lives of sitting across from someone whose favorite subject is themselves. This is true of nearly everyone to some respect - but for some people, it is a particularly acute problem.

In a time of fractured politics, our need for unifying cultural events is more acute, and particularly our need for creators who do not deny the people their art because of the votes they cast.

Politics is downstream from culture.

It is unhealthy to live in an environment where every aspect of our culture requires a great sort, where creative talents are for some but not for all, and where performing for the president of the United States becomes a point of regular and significant controversy.

In a healthy republic, there is a need for figures who understand that the presidency is not the be-all and end-all of the people.

Engaging in a sycophantic way with any politician in the short term is tempting. It offers the lure of access and the promise of influence. But ultimately, it can lead to misreading the environment, giving too much of an ear to the politician's circle, and confining your audience to partisans.

Much of the media failed to anticipate the potential Trump represented as a disruptive populist force, understand why his supporters trusted him, or offer honest reporting on the underlying trends that made his rise possible.

Trump's rise was contingent on wide swaths of the country completely tuning out so-called mainstream media sources, while all too many outlets did a poor job covering 2016.

When Barack Obama arrived in Washington, many in the media welcomed him with optimism as a historic figure focused on progressive change. But their overwhelmingly favorable treatment of him ultimately turned Americans who disagreed with Obama's policies away from traditional media sources they came to distrust.

The biggest loser in 2016 was Washington, D.C.

For many Americans, 2016 will be remembered as a terrible year. It was a year in which the lack of faith in our institutions was laid bare.

'Rogue One' does not feel like a 'Star Wars' movie. There are no scrolling yellow letters. There is no classic John Williams score. It feels like a movie of a different type set in the 'Star Wars' universe, a movie where there is no magic to save you. It is not a movie for children.

The first time I watched 'The Magnificent Seven' on TV on a Sunday afternoon, I knew it was going to be a different kind of western.

I grew up watching 'The Lone Ranger.' I would get up every Saturday morning, earlier than all the other kids, to watch a black and white western with Clayton Moore that hadn't filmed a new episode since 1957.

Belief that your tribe is good and other tribes are evil is what everyone thought for most of human history.

The human heart tends toward tribalism before tolerance. We can go back to that world. It still lives in all of us. Fighting it is the challenge, particularly at a time when the most audacious thing you can do is show some grace.

Tolerance as practiced by the Christian, enlightened West was never about thinking that bad people are good but that we are all called to love the sinner and hate the sin.

To think that the heritage of the West, including post-war liberalism, was a selfish, secular, practical arrangement of politics is a fiction.

At 26, I barely knew who I was.

'The Federalist' is a small staff, and our close-knit family of senior contributors outwork our competition because of that closeness.

Father John Misty is rebelling not against repression or foolishness but the ephemeral nature of mankind. He seeks permanence in a fleeting age, and he does not find it because the one place he could find an answer, he considers closed off: a locked door.

Father John Misty imagines that he is a rebel. He is, but he does not realize what he is rebelling against.