Here's a blog I can get behind:

The Young Fogey's Agreeable World: Fresh from bicycling home from Communion, having straightened out his waistcoat and settled down to a briarful of his favourite mix, the young fogey gives you his views on a few of his favourite places and things.

Found via same: an article on the fashion of living in old rectories, and a Spectator piece, "The Young Fogey: an elegy," which mourns the extinction of young men who wore four-piece tweed suits, including ‘westkits’, and loved the old Prayer Book.

Twenty years after his creation, the Young Fogey has pedalled off into the sunset on his sit-up-and-beg butcher’s bike, broad-brim fedora firmly on head, wicker basket strapped to the handlebars by leather and brass ties.

Interestingly, the latter article, for some reason unavailable at the Spectator archive, has been saved at the Lew Rockwell paleo site. The phenomenon of Michael Moore Toryism is written up this week in the Weekly Standard.

The Young Fogey bastion of the Spectator (itself increasingly shrill on the anti-Bush-Blair-Iraq front) received a 175th birthday tribute in the Telegraph last fall.

Here in the US, the New Criterion crowd has started an Algonquin-style Roundtable at an Upper East Side Irish pub on Tuesdays and has invited the right-of-center literati the Fabianians and anyone else who wishes to join in the revelry. Perhaps Steve M. or Otto Clemson Hiss would stop by and file a report.

Meantime, thanks to Enoch Soames for the link at The Charlock's Shade, a literary-minded site, laden with Waugh, that, by its own description, looks life straight in the face out of the corner of its eyes. It's well worth a visit.