Picture of a twit's twit.
My candidate for most ridiculous writer for a major publication is Nancy Gibbs, who writes for Time. Here's why:
Some princes are born in palaces. Some are born in mangers. But a few are born in the imagination, out of scraps of history and hope. Barack Obama never talks about how people see him: I'm not the one making history, he said every chance he got. You are. Yet as he looked out Tuesday night through the bulletproof glass, in a park named for a Civil War general, he had to see the truth on people's faces. We are the ones we've been waiting for, he liked to say, but people were waiting for him, waiting for someone to finish what a King began.
Read the whole sickening thing here, that is if you have a strong stomach.
Maybe I was being kind in considering Time to be a major publication. The magazine's revenues dropped 35% this year [here] and it is on the brink of collapse. I can't decide whether tripe like what Ms. Gibbs spews is part of the problem or merely a symptom. Either way this is disgraceful.
