Doctor, Doctor

First of all, let me just put your mind at ease. This post has absolutely nothing to do with the short-lived late ’80s sitcom of medical hi-jinkery (and oh, so much more) starring Matt Frewer. If it were I would have titled it Doctor, Doctor rather than just Doctor, Doctor. Oh what the difference italics make.

Secondly, a point of clarification. I think we are comparing apples and oranges when we compare the doctors you mention in your post to Charles Bovary, M.D. You see the doctor’s you mention are evil, which is neither here nor there when measuring their medical acumen. They could be very skilled, albeit evil, practitioners.

My argument is that Charles Bovary is the most inept fictional doctor you are likely to find in literature. (Apologies Dr. Slop.) He’s not even comedically inept. Its not like he hilariously slips on a banana peel when walking into his surgery or partakes in Robin Wiliams as Patch Adams clownishness, oh no my friend, he attributes frightening medical symptoms to obviously unrelated causes.

Therefore, we are comparing apples and oranges. And quite frankly, twinner, your apples are rather mealy and worm-ridden at that.

You do raise an interesting question re: Dr. Moriarity. In my mind he’s a malevolent podiatrist who turns his podiatric genius toward nefarious ends after seeing one bunion too many. (Is it any wonder that Sherlock Holmes always proclaims “the game’s afoot”?)

It’s all about the context clues.

Anyway, I haven’t actually read anymore of Love, Bovary Style. (I like to imagine this as an early working title of Madame Bovary.) But when has that ever stopped me from posting in the past.

Bovar and out,

Justin