I’ve decided that it’s much more entertaining and informative to watch the political and news pundits try and out-do each other with their space age sets, technologically stupefying graphics, and talking-head-love fest while they froth at the mouth dissecting an event that has not even started. In our current climate of media saturation coverage is king, it is the spectacle usurping the main event, and I find it preversly delicious. Then again, I’ve also been snookered into watching THREE seasons of VH1’s Rock of Love, so that gives you an idea of where my tastes and proclivities lie.
Though I’m drawn to Fox news for its salacious voice-overs: “A cat, a Shrewsbury woman, and homophobic slurs, the full story at 11,” I think my heart belongs to Herr Blitzer or Wolfy as I like to call him. Oh Wolfy. I never get tired listening to you drone that one-note samba of political jargon, your words running together in perfect, deadening cadence that would make any robot weep electronic tears of envy: “You’rejoingingusinthesituationroomwithCampbellBrownliveonthedeckoftheUSSNimrod.” *Sniff* Never was journalistic stoicism or the exsanguination of a personality so beautiful. I appreciate Wolfy’s commitment to and love for politics and how down-right giddy he gets talking about a press conference, a breaking scandal involving a senator and the call girl du jour, or any one of the 987,000 days that lead up this year’s election. Wolfy is in his element when he is in the aptly, militaristically named “Situation Room,” because he IS the situation. He is creating a moment that radiates with excitement or maybe that’s the ambient light of the studio’s glittering blue and red consoles and animated back drops that makes the “Situation Room” and everything in it awash with delicious tension.
Wolfy plays it cool though; he’s not distracted by the interactive maps and charts; he’s not deterred by CNN’s holograms, beaming in personalities and consultants and other cultural icons to the very epicenter of “The Situation Room” to go virtual toe to toe with Wolfy, challenging his territory. No. There’s a reason why the main consol in “The Situation Room” resembles the size of the deck on the U.S.S. Enterprise; it’s Wolfy’s to command, it’s his locus of broadcast power, it’s both his Andy Richter and his Ed McMahon. Oh sure, he’d like us to think that his jovial mono-syllabic joshing with Campbell Brown or Anderson Cooper is the same kind of innocent foreplay indulged in by clueless teens and new divorcees. But we aren’t fooled; we know that with each cut-away, with each check of the Pixar-animated interactive bar graph Wolfy is a seething, political lothario, teetering on the brink of blowing his entire journalistic wad. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me at all to tune in one day and find him standing on that massive consol, shirtless, in black leather pants, waving a bottle of Jack Daniels shouting “I’m the Lizard King! I can do anything! Anderson CooperreportingfromDarfurAnderson…” Now, THAT’S a situation I could get behind.