Like figures in Madame Tussauds wax museum, they stand together bloodless and stiff – the dead elitists who dare go among us, the Great Unwashed. I have met some of them. Some are nice, but the majority are so elitist that they are like a synod of intellectual snobbery – out of touch with the world and stuck in the dusty rooms they write in, while becoming intoxicated by breathing in the stale air of their own gas. This current display of solidarity is as smug as the smirk on Glenn Beck’s face, one of the 22 contributors of National...