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Jan. 31st, 2007 07:37 pm
A sad day for journalism
"The poor man who is currently our president has reached such a point of befuddlement that he thinks stem cell research is the same as taking human lives, but that 40,000 dead Iraqi civilians are progress toward democracy." -Molly Ivins, 1944-2007
My lovely Miz Molly, you are sorely missed.
Molly has been one of my role models for decades, starting when I first read her columns in my hometown paper when I was a smart-mouthed teen rebel. Her spitfire, no-bullshit way of taking on politics always made me giddy, and the sassy Texas charm she frosted it with always made me laugh. Many political columnists have tried to do something like she did, but few manage, or do it with only a sliver of her easy grace. Some, like the disgusting Ann Coulter and Michelle Malkin, have managed to piss in the water of political commentary and forever screw it up for the real professionals. I think many people who disliked Molly did so not because of her politics, but because they'd grown accustomed to the craptastic way most pundits have been researching and reporting on issues in the past 20 years, and didn't know how to handle someone who not only had strong convictions, but actually had an idea of what the hell she was talking about. One of the few columnists these days who actually had a background in journalism, she was always head and shoulders above virtually everyone else who set ink to paper in service of their favorite political causes. Instead of simply bleating poorly formed opinions about the issues, she got down to the meat of things--often interviewing and reporting on individual stories that best encapsulated a given problem, from philanthropists to Wyoming ranchers.
She warned us all about the ill-begotten dunce she called Shrub well before he took the Oval Office. Having spent several years writing about the way he screwed up Texas when he was governor, she, more than anyone, knew about the naked emperor and his disdain for anything that didn't involve making him or his buddies richer. We ignored her at our peril, and we're now reaping that ignorance, although I'm very glad she lived long enough to see the Dem takeover of Congress--some light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel of 12 years of Republican corruption.
When I'd heard a couple of years ago that her cancer had returned, I screwed up my courage and wrote her a long letter, telling her how much her work meant to me, and how much her life story and success as a strong, independent woman who never succumbed to any pressure to behave like a docile little lady inspired and comforted me. In my gawky, unfeminine existence, she's been one of the few icons I could cling to that gave me hope that I could manage a meaningful, productive life without glamming up, putting up or shutting up.
One of my goals in pursuing this journalism career has been to try to pick up where I knew she would eventually leave off. If I can be half the journalist and human being she was, I will feel I've made something of myself and made an essential contribution to the world. With too many years of profit-driven journalism causing j schools to turn out ever more Reporter Ken and Barbie clones, it's vital that there are at least some of us out here who know what the profession means and mean to do it justice. Every time I get disillusioned or depressed about the state of the American press, I remember that she still had a voice, and still stood for something, and I take heart and inspiration from her legacy.
I strongly urge anyone who is unfamiliar with Molly's work to look up some of it, to see what all the fuss was about. Also, this eulogy, from one of her editors, says a great deal about the woman herself, and why she was such a brilliant force for the powers of good.
She made the world a better place with every word she wrote. No one can ever fill her boots, but I hope she has inspired more people than just me to speak truth to power, and keep the thread of real journalistic commentary alive until the world finally starts coming to its senses.
My lovely Miz Molly, you are sorely missed.
Molly has been one of my role models for decades, starting when I first read her columns in my hometown paper when I was a smart-mouthed teen rebel. Her spitfire, no-bullshit way of taking on politics always made me giddy, and the sassy Texas charm she frosted it with always made me laugh. Many political columnists have tried to do something like she did, but few manage, or do it with only a sliver of her easy grace. Some, like the disgusting Ann Coulter and Michelle Malkin, have managed to piss in the water of political commentary and forever screw it up for the real professionals. I think many people who disliked Molly did so not because of her politics, but because they'd grown accustomed to the craptastic way most pundits have been researching and reporting on issues in the past 20 years, and didn't know how to handle someone who not only had strong convictions, but actually had an idea of what the hell she was talking about. One of the few columnists these days who actually had a background in journalism, she was always head and shoulders above virtually everyone else who set ink to paper in service of their favorite political causes. Instead of simply bleating poorly formed opinions about the issues, she got down to the meat of things--often interviewing and reporting on individual stories that best encapsulated a given problem, from philanthropists to Wyoming ranchers.
She warned us all about the ill-begotten dunce she called Shrub well before he took the Oval Office. Having spent several years writing about the way he screwed up Texas when he was governor, she, more than anyone, knew about the naked emperor and his disdain for anything that didn't involve making him or his buddies richer. We ignored her at our peril, and we're now reaping that ignorance, although I'm very glad she lived long enough to see the Dem takeover of Congress--some light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel of 12 years of Republican corruption.
When I'd heard a couple of years ago that her cancer had returned, I screwed up my courage and wrote her a long letter, telling her how much her work meant to me, and how much her life story and success as a strong, independent woman who never succumbed to any pressure to behave like a docile little lady inspired and comforted me. In my gawky, unfeminine existence, she's been one of the few icons I could cling to that gave me hope that I could manage a meaningful, productive life without glamming up, putting up or shutting up.
One of my goals in pursuing this journalism career has been to try to pick up where I knew she would eventually leave off. If I can be half the journalist and human being she was, I will feel I've made something of myself and made an essential contribution to the world. With too many years of profit-driven journalism causing j schools to turn out ever more Reporter Ken and Barbie clones, it's vital that there are at least some of us out here who know what the profession means and mean to do it justice. Every time I get disillusioned or depressed about the state of the American press, I remember that she still had a voice, and still stood for something, and I take heart and inspiration from her legacy.
I strongly urge anyone who is unfamiliar with Molly's work to look up some of it, to see what all the fuss was about. Also, this eulogy, from one of her editors, says a great deal about the woman herself, and why she was such a brilliant force for the powers of good.
She made the world a better place with every word she wrote. No one can ever fill her boots, but I hope she has inspired more people than just me to speak truth to power, and keep the thread of real journalistic commentary alive until the world finally starts coming to its senses.
