In “D.O.A.,” Jay-Z seems to ask of abusers of Auto-Tune, “Have you left no sense of decency?” We applaud him for his demanding that hip hop not devolve into a succession of fads, each one geared more blatantly at tween girls and their ringtone-money.

The Times points out that Jay-Z’s song has, rather than killing Auto-Tune software, helped spur it to record sales. Hova alone is not to blame. The “Auto-Tune the News” guys and Vimeo are also responsible, as are hordes of wack MCs and would-be humorists with access to Auto-Tune, Flash, and the interwebs.

And yet the Auto-Tune debate isn’t just about fad-ism, I think. Whether or not certain artists use Auto-Tune will be largely irrelevant in a few years. What counts, at least to Jay-Z, is that everyone care what Jay-Z thinks. In his role as the living avatar of hip hop (a role I acknowledge even if Dre3000 is a better rapper, or DOOM more adaptive and fun), Jay-Z must fight for tradition—for any tradition. Public figures must generally either court controversy (as does Eminem) or play the role of the conservative mother-father, the defender of good ole-fashioned common sense about subject X, whatever it is.

(Ever a step ahead of Jay, the incomparably paranoid and too-often-hated-on Nas, with Nick Cannon, recently released this bizarre video trumpeting the upcoming End Times of hip hop, when all rappers will have sold their souls to their corporate overlords.)

But part of the fun and challenge of being public figure in America is straddling lines. How do you come off as a defender of tradition without being stodgy, and how do you challenge norms without annoying your audience? Can you have it both ways?

Jay-Z and all current celebrity artists and thinkers should take a page from another great American publican, a lady’s man with a burly-chic, an avant-garde businessman, a powerbroker with unimpeachable (cobblestone) street cred who went by the name of Bennie “Almanac-Mackin” F-lin. Bennie’s roundly and deservedly honored today by Maria Kalman, who earns an Honourable Badge Of Merit.

By way of coda: Writing of the Almanacker makes me think of another portly, famous public figure, one not so deft at juggling conflicting images as Franklin or Hova. While Franklin or Hova might get nasty on mulled wine or designer drugs, they’d probably keep it a secret. They’d support liberal politicians and attack wack new sounds, be those sounds pressed to wax cylinder or MP3.

Orson Welles, on the other hand, blazed too quickly, spending his cultural cash early in his private war against William Hearst, and ending his life a crazy-eyed drunk, like a slurry, overweight Dracula. I love the man, but really. The footage speaks for itself.