My Marxist friends-- the sentiment of friendship is, I fear, unilateral--perpetually assure me that I have to choose between Fascism and Communism. They say there is no halfway house. If they are right I shall probably be tortured to death in a concentration camp, unless I apply my biological knowledge to the task of devising ways of terminating a hopeless existence with less personal inconvenience and discomfort.
In the meantime my dilemma does not seem to me to be different from that of anyone else who at any other time in history has been more anxious to be right than to stay Left. Maybe the friends of Servetus pointed out to him that he had to choose between the Holy Inquisition and Calvin. If Karl Marx had been persuaded to make a straight choice between Disraeli and Gladstone there would have been no Marxists. I am open to rational persuasion that Marxists may be right. Whether they will succeed in getting other people to think so, has nothing to do with the issue. My Nonconformist forebears went to their graves outside the parish in the comfortable assurance "beloved, we are of God and the whole world lieth in wickedness." Perhaps because I have their genes or perhaps because the human family is a mechanism for transmitting its own social environment, I am willing to take a sporting chance that I may be right in the long run, even if no orthodox church endorses my views.
In so far as I have not yet succeeded in equipping myself with a church which does endorse them, the views expressed in these pages may appropriately be called Dangerous Thoughts. Besides . . .