It is an impossible coincidence that the people endorsing retroactive edits to the works of P. G. Wodehouse are the very types of thickheaded dilettantes Wodehouse spent most of his 90 years lampooning.
This cabal of history vandals, known in our time as “sensitivity readers,” bears a strong resemblance to the clueless elites of Wodehouse’s novels. Certain of their own genius, they bumbled their way through their era, projecting, as the literary critic Edward Galligan once wrote, “a fresh image of benign idiocy.”






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