Dante seemed to be quite compassionate about some of the denizens of Hell: he pitied the fate of Paolo and Francesca, for instance, although he did not dispute that they were in the right place. I wonder what he would have made of the promoters of child euthanasia?
I imagine a new Canto, in which we find Dante and Virgil looking down on the tenth circle of Hell. Here in eternal torment are those who brought themselves to damnation through wilful and optimistic stupidity and ignorance. They are so tangled up in self-justification, hyperlinks to hyperlinks to articles in the liberal media, postpostmodern codology and self-referential jokes that they form a kind of human spaghetti. Their main difficulty is, however, that they barely realise that they are both dead and damned. There is way too much chatter for the message to sink in.
As Virgil and Dante stand above the slippery precipice, they are joined by a lost and irritable Dumb Ox. He peers down, sniffs, and walks away, muttering. As he disappears into the gloom, they catch one last remark.
“I told them that there was such a thing as the thick end of the wedge.”