Speaking of "the smug self-interested consensus of the urban, global elite," the one indictment against climate-change activists like Leonardo DiCaprio, Al Gore and Richard Branson that keeps on giving is their heavy use of carbon-spewing jet aircraft. According to this handy carbon-footprint calculator, if you fly economy from North America to Europe and back, just once, you exceed "the maximum amount of CO2 a person should produce per year in order to halt climate change." You can see the dilemma. You can also see why—in this, the U.N.'s Year of Sustainable Tourism—the elephant on the runway is the IATA forecast that passenger demand for air travel will double over the next twenty years.
In his angry critique of AfD leader Alexander Gauland, Roger Cohen yesterday accused "volkisch" German politicians of reacting "against globalization, against migration, against miscegenation, against the disappearance of borders and the blurring of genders, against the half-tones of political correctness, against Babel, against the stranger and the other, against the smug self-interested consensus of the urban, global elite." It's a sweeping indictment—and one that Cohen is happy to extend to Brexit and Trump supporters. A question arises. To be a virtuous citizen in the West today, must one express affection for all of the things the reactionaries hate, or are we still free to pick and choose, à la carte?
The news yesterday of the death of Playboy founder Hugh Hefner did not come as much of a surprise, for he seemed to belong to a bygone era—the age of Marilyn Monroe, to be exact, next to whom he will be laid, to rest. Yet, if you're a charter member of the reading-Playboy-with-a-flashlight generation, Hef's demise should give you pause. In one man's lifetime, "adult" entertainment evolved from pinups to porn streaming, with all of its attendant social, sexual and even demographic dysfunction. No one is judging, of course. But by offering American men a magazine that combined nudie pics and long-form interviews, Hefner put in motion a cultural revolution that has yet to run its course.
Here's a blast from the past, apropos of the recent Sidney Crosby imbroglio. In July 1970, Winnipeg rockers the Guess Who accepted an invitation to play the Nixon White House—even though, as guitarist Greg Leskiw put it, the president "was one of the most hated politicians of the hippie generation." What's more, the band agreed not to play "American Woman" at the request of the first lady—"as a matter of taste." Neil Young, who had just charted with the anti-Nixon anthem "Ohio," chastised the band, much as Canada's anti-Trump media are today chastising Crosby. Guess Who guitarist Kurt Winter reportedly urinated on the White House lawn during the visit, but this story may be apocryphal. Mr. Crosby, take note.