Really, when the camera’s not looking, they sit around playing video games–just like us!
Look how virtuous we are now! We used to be such racists! But now we’re pure, we’re so ashamed of how we used to be, you wouldn’t believe how wonderful we are now, ooh-ooh-ooh–! [Pause to hyperventilate]
They’re chagrined because their magazine in, say, 1938, did not depict people living in the middle of the Congo or the highlands of New Guinea as walking around in three-piece suits and driving cars. They are abashed because they depicted faraway peoples living in radically different cultures as… exotic. Different! It’s wrong, wrong, wrong to ever portray people as living differently from others! We get this from the crowd that worships “Diversity.”
I’m no one’s idea of a car buff. I can’t tell one model from another. I’ve never bought a record with a song about cars on it, despite having grown up in the 1950s.
But my car’s still in the shop today, and that has begun to make me antsy. A car is something you use in everyday life and it feels kind of creepy when you haven’t got one. You can’t go anywhere unless someone else takes you. It makes a dent in your independence.
All right, if you listen to NPR and virtue-signal by pedaling your bike to Whole Foods, bully for you–where do we put the statue? But for the rest of us–well, the car played a huge role in the creation of the middle class, and we’re not ready to sacrifice it to your Green New Deal. So go AOC yourselves.