Jun. 14th, 2008

phamos: (adamaroslin)
Saul Tigh: Can I play the piano anymore?
Doc Cottle: Of course you can!
Saul Tigh: Well, I couldn't before!

*tinkling ivories*

Yes, Galactica has finally gone full tilt Heston/McClure on us. I'm pretty OK with that, really.
phamos: (bruce)
Am I a terrible person because I'm not paralytically crushed by the untimely demise of Tim Russert? I mean, I'm sad in the sense that it's horrible he died so young, and he seemed like a good person, and it's sad for his family and friends and everything. But I certainly don't think he was OMGZ TEH BESTEST JOURNALIST EVAR! Do I think he was seriously holding people's feet to the fire when he would find one contradictory thing they'd said once and then the rest of the interview let them repeat their talking points uncontested? No, I don't. Do I give two shits that Buffalo lost one of its supposed strongest advocates or whatever? No, I don't. I thought Meet the Press was a good show back in the late '90s, but it had sorta tapered off over time as the show became more about Tim Russert and his Tim Russertness. That new focus probably had to do with his success as an author and the increasingly accepted idea that he was singularly qualified to hand out folksy homegrown advice because he came from South Buffalo and his father was a gruff but wise Irish war veteran. Honestly, I feel like every commentary of his that I saw or read in the last ten years or so amounted to "Blah blah political process Buffalo Irish bootstraps Bills blah di blah Big Russ." It really wasn't as insightful or "man of the people"-y as everyone is suddenly making it out to be. And I'm not sure what exactly he did for Buffalo that was so great other than constantly repeat silly stereotypes. Did he come back to the city and contribute anything to keep it from falling into its current ruined state? No, he sat in DC and used Buffalo's failings as a prop for his personal mythology.

From my understanding, Tim Russert was a good man who loved his family and was extremely committed to his job and a variety of sports teams. His death is sad, as most all deaths are sad, and sadder for the fact that it came at a relatively young age. But the idea that he's suddenly St. Russert, or that he was somehow an "advocate" for Buffalo just because he perpetuated this idealized notion of its plucky industrial underdoggedness, is kinda silly and kinda annoying.

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March 2009

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