All Timmeh, All the Time

Bitchpants = Loose(ning)

Tim Russert is on the cover of People magazine this week.

So, I get it. Really, I do. Tim Russert was a towering figure, a talented journalist, an all-around great guy. Great husband and dad. His kid is a chip off the old block, a preternaturally-talented communicator already being groomed for the business. Tim died at 58, too young, dropping dead in the saddle, as it were, recording voice-overs for "Meet the Press." He was an angel on earth, a guy who never did anyone wrong, was always there, who never ...asked members of the Current Administration the tough questions about Iraq, or illegal wiretapping, or the myriad other ways Bush & Co. have repeatedly bent The Constitution over a table and fucked it in the ass.

Ahem.

So, a good man died, like good men die every day. It was shocking, but...I can't say I was surprised. Overweight, overworked, high blood pressure and cholesterol? Seemed a matter of time. He died, and it certainly deserved a mention in the national media outlets. But NBC and MSNBC's saturation coverage of his death turned into a self-indulgent grief wankathon. Their "All Timmeh, All The Time" programming was just too painful to watch. And not because of any feelings anyone had about Tim's death.

Was nothing else happening in the world? There seemed to be no other news in the land that was worthy of airtime.

Call me a bitch, but is the wankathon over? Enough already.

Listening to: "Colorful" by The Verve Pipe