Lifestyles of the Rich and Insufferable

By Heather Wilhelm

Thursday, July 25, 2024

 

If you’ve been looking for a solid dose of cringe, you might have turned to a consistently reliable art form: the breathless celebrity puff piece. You know the type, perfected by glossy publications like Vanity Fair: “Grenada Michelada is more than just a film star — and not just because of her perfectly lasered skin and her progressive politics. No, she is a hero: a savior to 22 emotionally damaged rescue pit bulls currently residing in her Montecito guest house. As we lunched on her patio, she exuded unflappable elegance, with birdsong erupting as her terrified housekeeper careened across the massive lawn, one pant leg completely shredded, a giant, gentle fur baby in playful pursuit.”

 

Well, get your barf bag ready, because I’ve found something even worse: the breathless political puff piece. Witness the latest fawning profile of Dr. Jill Biden — a decidedly plucky woman who may or may not have spent months as our nation’s secret acting president — on the cover of Vogue.

 

“If you want to know what power feels like, try to get yourself driven around in a motorcade,” the piece opens, somehow managing to be embarrassing from the first paragraph. “Flashing police chaperone lights form a perimeter as you blaze down an empty highway, waiting cars backed up on entry ramps as you pass. It’s as if the world is holding its breath. For you.”

 

I know Vogue claims that an actual human adult wrote this, but that’s impossible. Who was the true font of this madness? Was it an eleven-year-old aspiring child star? Was it Jafar, the villain in Disney’s Aladdin, who goes on a terrific stemwinder of a rant about the glories of “ABSOLUTE POWER!” before he gets sucked back into the genie’s lamp? Was it Gollum from Lord of the Rings?

 

Because let’s be real: Any non-insane individuals who get stuck in traffic thanks to an annoying political figure breezing around town on her way to meaningless gatherings in a taxpayer-funded motorcade are not holding their breath. They are likely releasing a flurry of quiet swear words into the air.

 

The profile is all so weird and out of touch and obsequious that I can hardly stand it, and yet it’s nothing new. Our country has a problem, my friends — well, it has many problems, but this is just one column — and that problem looks a whole lot like our nation’s growing cohort of insufferable rich left-wingers spouting nonsensical luxury beliefs. Picture the limousine liberals of yore but on steroids: politically tribal, epistemically insulated, unduly confident in their skewed command of the facts, impressively cloistered, and often panicked. And bored, I think. Very, very bored!

 

Here’s how you know when you’ve met a politics-obsessed rich progressive: They seem to have never met a conservative in their life. If you end up sitting next to one at, say, a charity event, buckle up. Once your lefty friend finds out you have ever voted Republican — and trust me, they will find out, because unlike normal people, they immediately launch into politics with complete strangers — they will fall silent, aghast, as if they’d just seen Barry Goldwater’s ghost. Next, they will act shell-shocked that you have all your teeth, can speak in complete sentences, and haven’t whipped out a banjo to play the theme from Deliverance. Lest you think I’m exaggerating, I have faced three variations of this scenario in the past calendar year alone.

 

Or take California — please! My husband, once stuck in an endless San Francisco rental-car line, struck up a conversation with one of his fellow tortured customers. This fancy Californian, particularly friendly, found out he was from Texas. “Oh!” the Californian said. “I’ve thought about moving to Austin to get away from the mess in California. But I heard there are too many Republicans there.”

 

This is hilarious on a couple of levels. First, Austin has many issues, but “too many Republicans” is not one of them. Second, the entire reason Californians want to move to Austin is that it remains somewhat functional — because it’s in a state run by . . . you guessed it, Republicans. I mean, sure, the leftist wackos try their best to ruin things, but they have some adult supervision.

 

How is it possible that all these well-off, educated rich people fail to understand cause and effect? It’s baffling! But here’s what I do know: We need to find these people a different hobby, and fast. Kitesurfing? Mahjong? Break-dancing? Anything would be an improvement.