
As a temperamental opponent of John Derbyshire — I suffer from the disease of default optimism, making me one of those he calls “poseurs wearing smiley-face masks” — I hope I quickly forget his delightful (in a delight-expunging way), wide-ranging (though grimly focused), grati- yet terrifying new book. We Are Doomed is a blast of stale air, a key that opens up the dungeon of limitation, a burst of cloud rushing in to protect us from the daylight.
“The proper outlook of conservatives,” says Derbyshire, “is a pessimistic one.” Those who are familiar with his work in National Review will be
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