Clash of the Titans.

Yes, already they're calling it the Debate of the Century. Peter Hitchens and Damian Thompson, acknowledged experts on addiction, discuss the question: Whose book is better?

Peter Hitchens prepares to confront Damian Thompson.

For those who don't have time to listen to the Spectator podcast, we present a transcript of the debate between the two greatest intellectuals of our day.

DT: Well, I should point out straight away that I'm an expert on addiction, as I've written a best-selling book on the subject. I don't normally plug it, but it's called The Fix.

PH: I've written a best-selling book too. It's called The War We Never Fought: The British Establishment's Surrender to Drugs.

DT: Well, my book's better than your book. My friend Cristina says so.

PH: No, my book's better than your book. You see, I claim that addiction doesn't even exist.

DT: What? How dare you say that! I hate you!

Damian Thompson, modelling the new Michael Voris wig.

PH: Well, I'm sorry, but any addicts you see are purely a figment of your imagination.

DT: Look here, mate. Your brother Christopher may have been a lunatic left-wing atheist, but he was still much cleverer than you.

PH: Well, your sister Emma may be a lunatic left-wing atheist, but she's still much cleverer than you.

Emma Thompson expresses concerns over her brother Damian's latest meltdown.

DT: I'll get you for that. Wait until I write my Saturday column.

PH: Look, calm down, Damian. And please stop throwing cupcakes at me.

DT: I'll ruin you, as I did Johann Hari, David Cameron, and Keith O'Brien. Nobody will take you seriously again.

(Storms out, slams the door, and knocks over two secretaries, a security guard and a passing Monsignor. Returns to Telegraph Towers to launch a barrage of Twitter abuse and hostile blog posts. Phones Telegraph hit man and orders him to pour custard through Peter Hitchens's letter box.)

Preparing to fill Peter Hitchens's house full of custard.

PH: Sigh... it looks as though I'm not going to get that job on Telegraph blogs, after all.

Damain is taken into care

I has not been bloggin much recently, and I entrusted de spiritaul nuorishment of my readers to some geust bloggers. Dis is cos after my Anti Moly was put into a care home, I was free, so I decidded to take a holliday. In fact I went to Sevile in Spain, cos my hair was gettin long and I had heard dat dey has good barbers in Sevile.

De hairdresser of Sevile

In de end de haircut wasn't great, but I buoght a new wig as a present for Damain Thopmson, and a jumbo-sized bottle of hair-restorrer for my dear Anti Moly, who is always so thirsty.

I also got appraoched by a woman called Carman wot works in a cigarete factory, but bein a saved pusson I resisted her charms and came back to London.

When I got back to Castle Thopmson de butler, Will Heaven, had shockin news for me. "Dr Thopmson is not at home," he said. "He has been taken into care."

Heaven explained to me dat Damain had been taken to St Cristina's Home for de Dangerously Addicted. After his luvvly book was published, he decided to devote all his time to pluggin it, and was unabble to stop goin on abuot it.

Suovenirs of DE FIX

All Damain's recent activities have been tailored towards making people aware of DE FIX, and he has filled his home wiv suovenirs rellated to DE FIX.

More suovenirs of DE FIX

Luckily Hannan de chuaffeur was avialable (sometimes he is away wiv his part-time job in Brusells, which involves makin speeches to empty rooms), and he drove me to St Cristina's.

Poor sick Damain

"Eccles," said Damain to me, "you is a loyal follower of my blogg. I was finkin dis weekend of writin a Saturday colunm about De Fix, Joanne Hairy, addictoin to medicine, De Fix, De Ordinariate, recent books by Tellegrahp bloggers, De Fix, and addictoin to cupcakes. Do you fink dat's a good idea? Maybe I could add somefink about addictoin to computters too. Dat way I cuold secretly plugg De Fix and noboddy wuold notice."

Well, dat seemed OK to me, but I was very worried by Damain's terrible addictoins. Some schoolgirls had bruoght him a get well soon present, you see.

Cupcakes for Damain

We will have to see what we can do to "fix" our dear Damain.

---

I must remember to blogg about my Anti Moly some time. She got into bad truoble for nude sunbathin, so she is still in custardy.

Anti Moly sunbathin

I has blotted out de rude bits, cos we saved pussons doesnt put pronography on our bloggs. But it reely is a woeful situatoin.

Cuttley takes charge

We has had a very excittin day, as de famuous cellebritty novellist Cuttley came to Lost Angels to sing copies of his grate postmoddern novel, "Thopmson takes charge".

We saw an advert in de local paper sayin dat Cuttley was commin, and advertisin "FREE POT. CANNAPIS FOR EVERY CUSSTOMER". Dey is very fond of Cannapis ruond here, as Damain Thopmson knows, cos he came here last summer to resaerch it.

Anti Moly was very excitted dat de pius saintly pollite culltured devuot and courteuos St Cuttley was commin (she has got a statue of him dat she kisses reggularly). "I gonna get a relick of him," she said, packin her scissors (to cut a lock of hare, or maybe to give him a manic-cure) and a chane saw in case she cuold get a finger or a toe that Cuttley weren't partticularly needin dat day. Dis is a probblem dat saints has, peoples is allways choppin bits off you for souvennirs.

I asked Anti whether Cuttley was gonna be like Tom Jonnes, wiv lotsa excited girls frowing dere underwares at him. "Nope, I is savin dat for when Cradinal Pell comes," she repplied. A lucky escape for Cuttley, I finks.

Dat's Cuttley on his way to de bookshopp in a Cuttleymobile, to protect him from Anti Moly and other fans.

When we got to de bookshopp, dere was a band playin de music "Hale de conqeuring herro comes!" Dis Cuttley chap was very civillised and offered us a glass of Taylor's Vinttage Pot, apparrently it's a drink, and de Cannapies is a sorta little bits of food. Anti Moly got out her chane saw, ready to take some rellics, but Cuttley pollitely declined to cooperrate. "Sorry if I is bein rude to you," he said to Anti Moly, "but I is needin all my bons at de moment. Wuold you like a lock of my hare instedd? I hope I aint bein too discourteuos and outspokken here."

Dis is a pitcher of Cuttley after Anti Moly had finished takin a few locks of his hare. She also got his shirt, but I aint gonna show dat on dis blogg. Dis Cuttley chap he is a laywer, so he can wear a wigg to hide his bladness in court. I fink de jugde aint gonna be so happy if he dont have a shirt on, so I hopes he gotta spare one in his extenssive wardrob.

Anyways, a good time was had by all, and Anti Moly has forgivven Cuttley for an accidental resemblence between her and de gin-sodden Mattron in de book. I expect it was a coincidennce.

De confesions of Bosco

I is pleased to see dat my dere bruvver Bosco has passed a good nihgt despite bein concused by Grate-Anti Moly's lapptop. She aint takin de blame, of course. In fact she have found a blogg postin dat Bosco made in 1996 sayin dat Austrialans cant be saved because Jesus would be upside-down if he went dere. She is usin dis as eviddence dat he atacked her first. Still, de finggers of supsicion are bein pointed at her, and she may decide to go away soon, especially as she has drunk all our gin.

Bosco sure was restless overnihgt as he kept talkin in his sleep. "I is a grate sinner," he said. "I confesses. It was me wot did 9/11 single-handed. I also stole all de gold in Fort Nkox and replaced it wiv chocolate wrapped in gold foil. I set fire to Rowwan Williams's beard. I filled Eccles's boots wiv treackle. I pinched Damain Thopmson's touppee when he came to visit. I covetted my neihgbour's servin-girl, except dat she slapped my face and said 'Stop covettin me, you pig'. Mea culppa, mea maximma culppa (dat's Lattin, it means 'It's a fair cop, I dunnit all rihgt, officer', and Cathlics says dat a lot). I got demons tormentin my sole, and I reppents."

I dont believe most of dem confesions of Bosco's although it is true dat my boots is a bit sticky, and dis creature what I thought was Bosco's pet hamster reely aint very lively. Here she is.



Grate-Anti Moly has gone out now, she says dat Bosco is drivin her mad wiv his confesions, and still dey go on. He says he is repsonsible for the Irish Potatto Fammine cos he got hunggry and ate all de potattoes. He is worried dat de police is gonna find out dat he is reely Jack de Ripper. Now he says dat it was him wot burnt de cakes and not King Alfred. Also he murderred Hamlet's father, and pinned de blame on Claudeus.

All rihgt Bosco darlin bruvver I will nuss you back to health, so dat you can go back to writtin your blogg and bein saved. Also Father Eel de Nutters of de Cathlic Emrggency Confesion Task Force have said dat you can stop confesin now, just say 200 Heil Marrys and you is forgivven. Den you can go back to bein a sinner as usaul.

Well I doesnt want to disturb Bosco in his fraggile state of health, but we has to be on de alertt for iddolatry, and here is somefink dat I saw on de TV, it was probbaly a religgious program. He's an uggly lookin saint aint he?