Tucker Carlson, newly installed at the Cato Institute, is attacking his old adversary Jon Stewart in The Daily Beast. And doing quite a good job of it too:
The relationship between Stewart and the media is a marriage of the self-loathing and the self-loving: He insists their real news is fake, they insist his fake news is real. He doesn't take them seriously at all. They take him way too seriously. But nobody takes anybody as seriously as Jon Stewart takes himself.
A serious man needs a serious mission, however, and this is suddenly a problem. With Bush gone and the Republican Party in chaos, most of Stewart's targets have disappeared. Yet rather than pivot with the times and challenge those now in power, Stewart continues to attack the same old enemies, at this point mostly straw men and pipsqueaks. A couple of weeks ago, he spent an entire seven minutes mocking the crowd at a CPAC conference.
His studio audience loved it, though that isn't saying much. Stewart's audience would erupt if he read the phone book, or did his monologue in German, a response that over time is a threat to any man's soul. During many segments, Stewart's audience doesn't laugh so much as cheer, a distinction that would bother most comedians. Stewart keeps them around anyway. Uncritical praise corrupts absolutely.
Perhaps the anti-Stewart backlash has finally commenced when even Washington Post columnist Richard Cohen is attacking the Daily Show's fake crusader journalism:
But the role that Cramer and other financial journalists played [in the crwas incidental. There was not much they could do, anyway. They do not have subpoena power. They cannot barge into AIG and demand to see the books, and even if they could, they would not have known what they were looking at. The financial instruments that Wall Street firms were both peddling and buying are the functional equivalent of particle physics. To this day, no one knows their true worth.
It does not take cable TV to make a bubble. CNBC played no role in the Tulip Bubble that peaked, as I recall, in 1637, or in the Great Depression of 1929-41. It is the zeitgeist that does this–the psychological version of inertia: the belief that what's happening will continue to happen.