Ditto for Garrison Keillor with all his tales about humble, modest people from Lake Woebegone. All the time Garrulous Squealer privately detested the very people he was supposedly revering in his stories.
Of course he did ... it seemed to me, at least, that his supposedly "heart-warming" monologues on NPR back in the mid '80s were always dripping with contempt and hatred. I was even then aghast that anybody (other than urban leftists) ever liked them.
I made the mistake of thinking that Keillor’s writing would be as charming as his storytelling, and bought one of his books. It turned out to be a bitter, petty, nasty diatribe. Later on, I perused another of his books at the library, and found more of the same.
Now if I hear him on radio or TV, I change stations.