I'll be swinging by "Tucker Carlson Tonight" in a little while, live across America at 8pm Eastern/5pm Pacific. If you're in the vicinity of the receiving apparatus, I hope you'll dial us up.
Aside from being Royal Baby Day, today is also the second birthday of The Mark Steyn Club. I'm very touched by the kind comments you've been sending along with your subscription renewals. Here's one from Leo, one of our Victorian members Down Under:
Bugger me, another year and I am still pleased to pay for what turns out to be an unflagging support of western democracy. A pity that politicians could not be bought so cheaply.
They can, Leo, but not in the cause of western civilization. Among the innovations we've introduced on this second anniversary is a revamped Tales for Our Time home page (see top right) in Netflix style, with tales organized by category - thrillers, fantasy, romance, etc - which we hope will make it easier for you to find your favorite story. If it doesn't, please let us know. But you can access all our tales here, and all previous episodes of our current adventure, The Island of Dr Moreau by H G Wells, here.
Meanwhile, welcome to Part Eleven. In tonight's episode, the doctor's race of new men are reverting to beasts at an accelerating rate:
He stood staring, with his face white and his lip pulled askew. "I don't like this," he said slowly.
"I saw something of the same kind," said I, "the first day I came here."
"The devil you did! What was it?"
"A rabbit with its head twisted off ...completely wrung off."
He gave a long, low whistle.
"And what is more, I have an idea which of your brutes did the thing. It's only a suspicion, you know. Before I came on the rabbit I saw one of your monsters drinking in the stream."
"Sucking his drink?"
"'Not to suck your drink; that is the Law.' Much the brutes care for the Law, eh? when Moreau's not about!"
"It was the brute who chased me."
"Of course," said Montgomery; "it's just the way with carnivores. After a kill, they drink. It's the taste of blood, you know.—What was the brute like?" he continued. "Would you know him again?" He glanced about us, standing astride over the mess of dead rabbit, his eyes roving among the shadows and screens of greenery, the lurking-places and ambuscades of the forest that bounded us in. "The taste of blood," he said again.
If you've yet to hear any of our Tales for Our Time, you can do so by joining The Mark Steyn Club and enjoy our nightly audio adventures every evening twenty minutes before lowering your lamp - or hoard the episodes and binge-listen at the weekend or on a long car journey. For more details on that and other benefits to Steyn Club membership, see here - and don't forget our special Gift Membership.
Please join me on the telly with Tucker in an hour or so - and, of course, right here tomorrow evening for another episode of The Island of Dr Moreau.