Slapped around

Do I really care whether Max Mosley, race car dominatrix, has a sadomasochistic orgy with five prostitutes in an apartment in London? Particularly if this orgy evokes Nazi images for some observers? Should I even need to know about it?

Max Mosley (see link) is a Formula One maven who has been responsible in part for bringing the motor sport the money and attention that it now has.

He also happens to be the son of Sir Oswald Mosley, a fascist leader in Britain before WWII.

I've thought long and hard about the matter-for at least five minutes this morning while reading the article.

I don't think the public has an interest in knowing about people's sexual antics behind closed doors, even if they involve peculiar hats, whips and other fetishes.

If Mosley had been doing something extremely distasteful which made the possible Nazi undertones explicit?

No, again.

He's rich and famous, with notorious parents, and he just happened to get caught with his pants down. But he wasn't trapped plotting to overthrow the Labor Party and bring on fascism in Great Britain.

As a wise man said, history repeats itself, once as tragedy, and once as farce. Really, you've got to give Mosley some credit here for making something of his life. Imagine the circumstances in which he grew up. Perhaps this brush with entrapment, and the pain it has caused his wife, will impell him to clean up his private life. But, frankly, aside from the titilillation of reading about it, it's none of my business-or yours.