Certain highs given by alcohol, laughing gas, huffing paint and the like, give a sense of euphoria by depriving the brain of oxygen. You can get a similar high by climbing a mountain, where the air gets thinner. And there is no mountain so high, where the thin air fills one with such sweet euphoria, as the moral high ground. This spot of superiority—where you gaze down at your enemies, whom you imagine as ants, pests, and vermin—fills your breast with a sense of certainty: I am right, and they are terrible. Such was the tone of the article, “I Don’t Know How To Explain To You That You Should...