Ritual Ardor for Broder

I read Steve Benen every day. He manages today, for once, to disappoint me. Of David Broder he writes today: "Very few journalists reach the level of 'political institution,' but David Broder earned it. His death this morning is a real loss." Inasmuch as having a tumor surgically removed is also a real loss this statement is, stricto sensu, factually correct. But I have a sinking feeling we are about to be immersed in a scarcely endurable nauseating torrent of phlegm, comparable to the vile festival celebrating nonentity (I mean, incomparable irreplaceable national treasure) Tim Russert upon his demise. Presumably this unedifying circle jerk testifies to the career aspirations of would-be punditocrats jockeying for position among the remaining chairs whenever the music stops, or perhaps to some forlorn hope that by pouring forth these unseemly undeserved panegyrics to their peers in their eclipse this will better ensure that their own exits will be greeted with comparable howls from scores of people they don't actually respect either. I say: Yuck.