Can you *really* call yourself a Doctor if you haven’t grafted the extremities of wild animals onto the unconscious bodies of kidnapped shipwreck victims?
Can you *really* call yourself a Doctor if you haven’t made a pact with Mephistopheles for unfathomable power only to dick around for 24 years and waste the bargaining of your soul?
Can you *really* call yourself a Doctor if you haven’t spent years in the Ural mountains musing on love, the future, the revolution, and the isolated state of man?
Can you *really* call yourself a doctor if you haven’t imparted the art of phonetics of the upper class onto a Cockney flower-seller in hopes of proving the fluidity of the British class system?