The Sky Isn't Falling
"I won't even mention the word 'Iraq,'" Little told the Las Vegas Review-Journal. He also said this: "They don't want anyone knocking the president. He's really over the coals right now, and he's worried about his legacy."
Colbert-loving commentators have gotten worked up over the selection of Little, an impersonator who clearly won't be delivering anything like Colbert's searing satire from last year, a speech that delighted some but struck others as inappropriate.
Here's the thing, though: Complaining about the speaker at the White House Correspondents Dinner is sort of like complaining that your new insect overlords aren't offering much of a health care plan. That is, it's missing the point. The issue isn't who speaks at the dinner so much as the dinner itself, which has outlived any usefulness it might once have had.
As David Macaray wrote in a letter to Romenesko in 2004, the dinner's origins were borderline noble:
First attended by President Coolidge, in 1924, the WHCD began as an ambitious, experimental forum: an exercise in congeniality and humor, where the president of the United States was treated to an evening of entertainment, mirth and gentle chiding.This is a point underlined by the Colbert/Little flap: If you want to see the president mocked in the same fashion as he was at last year's dinner, you need only tune into Comedy Central at 11:30 on a weeknight. These days the dinner is a social event, an excuse for politicians, celebrities and journalists to hobnob with each other in ways that border on inappropriate. There's not much value in getting worked up over the gory details.Eighty years ago, that probably made sense; exposing a stuffy president to such shenanigans was, arguably, good for the country's mental health. But today aren't we all but inundated with humor of every stripe -- from satire, parody and stand-up agitprop to radio and TV talk shows and cable drivel?