In Which I Complain. Par for the Course, Really.

What is up, gentle readers?

Elevennames's's state of neat constant exsanguinated nature is none of your concern - the surviving writers are all terribly distracted with going to shows and being hippies and not actually knowing that they are still writers here. I, myself, spent he past few weeks building a deck! And it has yet to burst into flame. So, perhaps if this blogging thing doesn't work out (snrk) I can always just rely on improvised carpentry.

Regardless.

I feel I should address the constant, near plague-like scourge that is striking down our good celebrities, leaving only younger, less-in-every-way balls of semi-sentient filth in their place. Tim Russert, George Carlin - both dead, like doorposts and doornails and other parts of doors! Knobs! Repeated consonant door similes! Or that guy from Monty Python!

There is, sadly, no greater wisdom to be had in the deaths of these individuals. They were about as connected to my life dead as they were alive. I had an old college roommate who once insisted on listening to George Carlin stand-up for hours at a stretch, which is where I was first introduced to him in a non Bill-and-Tedly fashion. He was observant and cranky, which are really the two best qualities you can have when you're a comic, but he was also a bit self-righteous, or at least came off that way. Always sounding like he was rallying the troops to invoke social change or whatever. Tim Russert was the grinning fat man who was also kinda clever on Meet the Press and sometimes other nebulously irrelevant news programs on MSNBC.

So when they died, what difference does it make to me? Knowledge of their continued existence is not going to make my work day go faster or slower, nor is my daily sustenance dependent on their continued removal from the lifestream.

It shouldn't make one whit of difference, but I am still made sad because these were intelligent men who, in their respective ways, were each insightful and creative and not at all the sort of miasmatic dullard which is so commonly found in popular media these days, and in their passing, there is no immediate heir to their standards, no Hamlet, but a plethora of Claudiuseses, each one a Mencia or an Olbermann, a medium-talented individual not seeking the same excited creativity that Russert and Carlin possessed, but rather, just to exploit a niche.

And not to say that there's anything wrong with that - I wish I had a niche to exploit. But it is a sign, an indicative symbol of the loosening gyre of the world, expanding and growing more distant from itself. More than individuals die, in other words - their examples are the foundations upon which we build ourselves. When they die, we realize that we cannot grow on them anymore, that they have become finite, that it is then our turn to take up the mantle of idealism, and try to project it forward.

More swearing and less soppyness in future posts, I swear.

In Memoriam: Tim Russert

One of the pre-eminent political analysts, commentators and journalists of our time is dead. Tim Russert, host and moderator of Meet the Press, died of a heart attack at 58 today, and if you liked political discourse at a reasonable level and wanted, say, insights in the campaigns running today, you could tune in and watch Meet the Press or, quite frankly, whatever show on NBC he was asked to speak for two or three minutes on, he should be very sorely missed by you.

If you don't know who he is, click here and then come back when you're done. It's MSNBC's report on his death, and the people speaking about him include President George W. Bush, Tom Brokaw and Harry Reid, current Senate Majority Leader.

His research on the people he interviewed was career-spanning and unspeakably deep, so he knew his politics and was polite, but unrelenting in his pursuit of the truth. But that polite part is incredibly important. Russert made his name by being persistent and civil, and kept Meet the Press afloat, to the point of four million steady viewers on Sunday morning. It wasn't exciting television, mind you, but important television. It didn't have the host or the guests fighting for who'se voice could rise above the others, which usually drives ratings elsewhere. 

Here's an example. Back when Mitt Romney was still a viable Republican candidate, Mr. Romney had been making a bit of backsliding about his views on abortion and women's rights, and he'd been catching some flak for what was a drastic shift in ideological belief, which seemed to coincide neatly with his getting chosen by the Evangelical (which, by the way, sounds a lot better than saying arch-conservative) leaders of the Christian community in America. Now. Russert went one step further and brought in a video clip of Mr. Romney saying in his gubernatorial bid in Massachusetts that he would "preserve and protect a woman's right to choose", was to do so inspired by his mother to be "devoted and dedicated" to his protection of a woman's right to choose. Watch it yourself.

Russert catches Mr. Romney in his run-around game, and does so in a polite, civil manner, without gloating or raising his voice. It's the combination of research and civility that made Tim Russert "the best political journalist in America, not just the best television journalist in America", according to Al Hunt, the former chief of the Washington desk for the Wall Street Journal .

His death leaves a vacancy in American politics the size of which I cannot even outline or fathom. If you want to understand politics, he could speak to you about it in a way that synthesized it and made it understandable for the laypeople and not just political junkies. Insightful barely covers it. He reported the happenings, put the questions to the people who made the happenings and did it all because he loved America and he loved politics. 

For our American readers: Go on YouTube and do a search for Tim Russert and learn about the political landscape around you.

For our international readers: Go on YouTube and do a search for Tim Russert and get insight about American politics from its foremost reporter and treasured son.

His influence is huge. His shadow will loom over American politics, but more heavily over the commentators who don't ask the tough, probing questions. He was pre-eminent because he asked the hard questions, because he stayed civil and polite and because he did the legwork and homework to back it all up with facts and not bluster.

When he said something, those words were given gravity that no one else in the field has. His hard work, insight and politeness were why.

Suffice to say he's missed.