Marnix Peeters, an interviewer and reporter for this newspaper for many years, looks at things with razor-sharp precision as a columnist. This week: the ubiquitous raised fingers. “I will never forget how, when I was eighteen, I once decided I liked whisky, and later had to throw up a quarter bottle of Three Stills so hard that I now never drink more than a thumb. That’s how you learn, better than by being herded into a psychiatric hospital like a patient.”
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