Dr. Dalrymple is reminded of having been a guest in an Albanian jail after seeing a certain familiar gesture from Mr. Erdogan on television over at Takimag.
The behavior of Messrs. Erdogan and Michel was, to me, shocking. It was as if reasons of state rendered common decency unnecessary. It was not merely unchivalrous (such a charge would probably now seem an anachronism, if not possibly retrograde, to anyone under 60), but coarse. I have no solution to offer.
The mainstreaming of racialism marches on in the radicalized American medical community as our skeptical doctor points out in his The Epoch Times column.
Thus they were utterly dehumanised in the eyes of the authors, not sharing the fundamental human condition of agency that is the basis not only of justice but the reason for and precondition of freedom. It is true that agency can be lost, but what is marginal should not be taken as typical.
The good doctor receives a phony marketing message from a low-cost airline on his phone and becomes quite irritated over at The Critic.
But it was the words personal and community that irritated me. Why should I feel any sense of community with tens of millions of people just because I too had on occasion flown by this airline, either because it appeared the cheapest way to go or because it was the only airline flying to my destination?
Theodore Dalrymple gave an online talk in January on Ivan Turgenev’s novel Fathers and Sons for Ralston College, a newly founded institution of higher learning in Savannah, Georgia established by Stephen Blackwood.
In his weekly Takimag column, our favorite doctor reflects on human misery and happiness, the folly of utopian schemes of intellectuals, and his own life experiences.
Intellectual utopian schemers are reluctant to accept the existence of a human propensity to self-destruction. Come the revolution—or rather, come their revolution, for no other will satisfy them—self-destruction will disappear from the range of human possibility because life will be so delightful that it will occur to no one to spoil it.
The British Labour Party leader wanted to pander to black voters in a visit to a church in North London, but ended up upsetting the easily offended homosexual lobby and its pitiful minions. The pathetic and cowardly retreat by the politician in question showcases just one of the many conflicts the Left faces among its alliance of disparate “oppressed” groups with incompatible interests and values.
The ultimate object of the monomaniacs is not only to make certain things unsayable, but—because they are never said—unthinkable. As the good totalitarians they are, they want everybody to think alike.
The unrelenting emphasis on past cases of injustice by public health authorities might explain racial differences in attitudes toward COVID-19 vaccinations, argues our dissenting doctor in his City Journal column.
Is it not at least possible that the institutionalized emphasis on past injustices is actually one of the reasons for the disparities in uptake—and that further emphasis will only increase them? A deputy editor of the Journal of the American Medical Association has been fired for daring to suggest as much, and the editor suspended for having allowed him to do so.
Our dubious doctor attempts to read what turns out to be arguably the worst, most worthless, misanthropic, radically nonsensical book yet to have emerged from the deep dregs of our morally and intellectually bankrupt Western academia.
I would like to wish all of our readers across the world a Happy Easter.
That someone—perhaps many people—can make a career of this kind of drivel (largely, I suspect, at public expense) is testimony either to our confidence in the strength and solidity of our civilization, such that it can withstand almost any assault on its values or degree of corruption of its youth, or alternatively that we are approaching a final state of moral, cultural, and intellectual disintegration and collapse that must before long lead to its replacement by another, less frivolous, but not necessarily better, dispensation.
In the April edition of New English Review, Theodore Dalrymple remembers his friend, Ken Saro-Wiwa, and his hanging by the brutal and corrupt Nigerian military dictatorship in power at the time.
Saro-Wiwa, along with eight others, was hanged, apparently at the fifth attempt, so that he is said to have said that, in this country, they can’t even hang someone properly. In the aftermath, there was much moral outrage and talk of economic sanctions against Nigeria; I wrote an article that still troubles my conscience, in which I argued against such sanctions even though Saro-Wiwa was my friend.