Perceptive readers may have noticed I’m in a bit of a cranky mood today, expressing annoyance over items big (the Fiscal Cliff Kabuki; cynical public-private “cooperation” schemes) and small (the convention of phoned-in Year-End Columns) and weird (Helen Reddy introducing Curtis Mayfield on Midnight Special nearly forty years ago, Dr. Ruth’s current assessment of the sexual prowess of Congresscritters). Part of the problem is the amount of time I have to spend every day consuming bad journalism, which in its subject-lines and delivery happens to be particularly bad this time of year, often from the most richly rewarded members of our endangered profession.
Only thing I can think of that would cheer me up—short of an early and ill-advised detour into seasonal spiked Egg Nog—would be an uptick in the Washington Monthly’s fundraising drive, reflecting a bit of much-needed support for an institution that values good journalism, and is in no danger of over-rewarding any of its writers.
So please, have empathy with my pain and ennui and Class Envy of journalistic Big Dogs, and if at all possible, make a donation to keep the Monthly bumping along, causing trouble when we can and nourishing our naive hopes for good (or better!) government and clean (or cleaner!) politics.
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