Hugh Hefner: Dead

My father had a subscription to Playboy magazine against the wishes of my mother, and I viewed them.

I could understand why nubile women flocked to a rich, famous, powerful man, but I couldn't understand why others fawned over Hefner. Halo effects are bizarre. There was almost nothing fascinating about him. In the interviews I saw, he kept spewing his hackneyed shtick about 1950s "sexual repression." (He should have spent a few years in Saudi Arabia to see what real sexual repression looked like.) I doubt Hefner was particularly well-read. Most political commentaries in his magazine were poorly reasoned despite having his pick of thousands of writers sending in submissions, each hoping for a good payday and a bit of recognition.

The magazine had a page or two devoted to photos of Playboy parties, a disproportionate percentage showing African-American men with white women. The intended or unintended message: you pay for worthless paper images of attractive women. Look who gets the real thing. So his was a girly magazine that had more photos of black men than black women. Hefner worked to eliminate the peoples and white beauty his life and wealth depended on.

In older issues, the Playmates had a variety of attractive looks, to fit a variety of tastes. After the mid 1990s, more Playmates displayed dyed hair, orange skin, heavy makeup, breast implants. Yes, the supposed classy, highbrow porn magazine specialized in the b*mbo look. It was likely based on research. Hefner's fan base was likely the same as Howard Stern's. Behind the glitz was the reality of lonely male subscribers living purposeless lives. The morality of the cool comes to liberate, yet takes prisoners, looking for love and purpose in the wrong places. Among the less lonely, hedonism contributed to an epidemic of philandering and broken homes. The one night stand is not an act of liberation. It is an act of contempt. It says I can screw you and maybe give you a pathogen, but you are not good enough to be around me ever again. I'm going to pretend to be gaga about you, but only for a few hours, then switch it off.

Philosophies of hedonism give the impression that many whites in the 1950s were "squares" or worse. Having met thousands of individuals who came of age in the 1950s or before, I keep wondering where the squares went. Did they morph into non-squares by the 1980s? Many were great story tellers with fascinating life experiences. For the unfamiliar, it was once common in American society for friends to frequently visit, sitting and talking about thousands of topics for hours on end, sometimes playing cards while talking.

Writers complain about magazines setting impossible standards, but magazines are more about escapism than setting standards.

Like some other wealthy promoters of hedonism, Hefner seemed devoted to his children, yet such promoters seldom care about the consequences of hedonism to individuals in more difficult circumstances. Hedonism is a luxury that many can financially afford but few can ethically afford.