The Jolly Titan of Paradox: G.K. Chesterton’s Brain and the Modern Malaise

I ain’t got a shred of hard proof, but I’d wager that G.K. Chesterton’s noggin was rigged with a hulking, boisterous right hemisphere that steamrolled the left like a runaway freight train.

That jovial giant’s right hemisphere didn’t just outmuscle its analytical counterpart. It hog-tied and stuffed it in a burlap sack, leaving it barely able to do its …