"Last summer, at Burning Man, I met a friend named Jay."
Maybe the most misguided magazine ever seen.
Produced by affluent white Americans; filled with corporate fashion models and corporate advertisements; a voice of exploiters not exploited; residing at the pinnacle of the global pyramid; aimed at a trendy-hip elite; PLANET presents itself as one with the world: "Global Culture and Lifestyle." Yes, they the world's (cars-cellphone-DVD-etc.) consumers-- the well-schooled information high priests-- and the billions of impoverished masses who'll never afford this magazine or even see it,
are one and the same.
Such people used to be called the Jet Set unabashedly believing they owned the world, but now it's done with an air of concern as they frighten animals in rain forests or push themselves at indigenous New Guinea tribesmen who want no part of these globe-trotting frauds.
It's either a charade the editors play for themselves, or the most cynical kind of marketing strategy.
Present are some of the Usual Suspects-- William T. Vollmann; J.T. Leroy-- along with upper-echelon First and Third World Fulbright winners, School of Visual Arts grads, and such. Every page is a pose. $5.95. Not worth it.