So, apparently Andrew Breitbart is dead. Sadness isn’t exactly the word I would use for my emotions.
To clarify, while I’m not one to revere the dead who don’t deserve it, on the other hand, I’m not one to celebrate someone’s death either. Hell, it made me uncomfortable as hell when people cheered and celebrated the death of Osama Bin Ladin. And Breitbart is definitely not worth the emotional energy that Bin Ladin was.
Now that being said, Breitbart was awful, and pretty much an overt fascist and race-baiter, (unless we go with the more parsimonious explanation that he was simply himself a racist), who displayed the characteristic conservative bloggers’ sociopathic indifference to the human damage caused by his fabricated stories, and frequently publicly fantasized about murdering liberals, for which he was largely given a pass by the media. He was a terrible person, and the world is marginally better for his passing, even if I’m unwilling to celebrate his death, as such. If he’s remembered at all, it should be as a sociopathic, fascistic serial liar in reporters’ clothing who personally managed to coursen our discourse as much as anybody this side of Limbaugh.
Note, also, that none of the things I said about him were nearly as nasty nor peppered with personal invective as his own vile comments incident to Ted Kennedy’s passing. Because if my epitath ever ended up being my own words, quoted back at me, I’d prefer it not be quite so damning.