About The Solitary Post
The Solitary Post is not a publication in the sense most people mean it. It’s not a newsroom. It’s not a magazine. It’s not an “independent media platform”. It’s a desk, a chair, and a person who has an unreasonable belief in the value of sitting down and writing something worth reading.
That person is me. I write here because too much of the modern conversation is written for speed, for safety, or for applause. The takes are instant and the headlines engineered to evaporate in 24 hours. I'd rather take the time to write something substantial than rush out something designed to vanish by tomorrow.
What you’ll find here is commentary on culture, politics, and faith, not because I’m trying to cover “every beat,” but because those are the three currents that shape nearly everything we live through. My writing here tends to be long and deliberate, turning a subject over from every angle until it yields something useful. I believe some ideas can't be rushed, and the best thoughts often emerge only after sustained attention to a single question.
The name comes from an image that’s lived with me for years: a lone lamppost in a foggy street. Not a lighthouse promising to guide ships safely home, not a stadium floodlight illuminating everything at once, but just enough light to see where you’re standing and maybe a few steps ahead. That’s my work here. I won’t pretend to have the whole truth about everything, but I’ll tell you what I see, as clearly as I can, from where I’m standing.
I don’t expect you to agree with me on everything. In fact, I hope you don’t. If all we ever do is nod along with people who sound exactly like us, our minds shrink. Disagreement forces the mind to stretch, and sometimes that stretch is exactly what keeps it alive.
So that’s what this is: one voice, one column, no committee. I write, you read, and we see what happens.
If you find something here worth thinking about, pass it along. If you think I’ve missed the mark, tell me so. And if you want to keep reading, you know where to find me: standing under the lamppost, trying to see a little more clearly.
