Anus horribilis 2020: Noted in passing (media)

Ed. here. 2020 is almost over, thank God, truly an Annus Horribilis if ever there was one. (I know my Latin but Walt insists on leaving the headline as he wrote it.) Here is the second segment of our yearend review, saying ave atque vale to some people who in some way made this world a better place, and who will be missed. 

Walt wanted to do "sports and music" second, but I'm going with journalists today because only two who died in 2020 rate a fond farewell, so this will be a short piece for a Monday morning.

Maybe not. What Ed. just wrote might get me started on the sad state of the Fourth Estate in the quasi-free world, particularly the broadcast media, particularly in the Excited States of America and its branch plant in the Great No-longer-white North. [He means Canada. Ed.] We don't call them the lamestream media for nothing. 

Reporters? Journalists? Ha! Just a bunch of typists and cut-and-pasters turning out  mediocre liberal propaganda sweetened with a veneer of "celebrity" and entertainment "news" to convince the (North) American sheeple that everything is just fine -- especially now that Sleepy Joe Biden has been pushed into the White House under cover of night -- when in reality our society is disintegrating before our very eyes. You can see it (if you open your eyes!) but they can't... or won't.

Now that I've got that off my chest, let's note the passing of two journalists of the old school -- both of them Canadian -- who will no longer be letting the air out of the tires of the liberal establishment.

One such was columnist and author Allan Fotheringham -- aka "Dr Foth" -- known for his biting satirical commentaries aimed at the rich and the powerful, who died in Toronto on 19 August 2020. 

For 27 years, you weren't considered a member of the Canuck establishment unless you had been pilloried in Dr Foth's column on the last page of Maclean’s magazine. Such was his genius that he got invited to all the best parties and, some would say, became himself a member of said establishment. 

Allan Fotheringham was born on 31 August 1932 in the middle of nowhere -- Hearne SK -- just down the road from Lilac. His career began with a regular column at the University of British Columbia's student newspaper, the Ubyssey. (The incomparable historian cum storyteller Pierre Berton also wrote for the Ubyssey at about the same time.) Fresh from university, he was hired as a reporter and columnist by the Vancouver Sun. 

He began writing his weekly Maclean’s column in 1975, and is credited with making Maclean's the only magazine customarily read from back to front. He was known for his cutting sense of humour, often aimed at prime ministers and lesser mortals. His more memorable political nicknames include "the jaw that walks like a man" for PM Lyin' Brian Mulroney, "Natural Governing Party" for the Canadian Liberal Party, and the "Holy Mother Corporation" for the Canadian Broadcorping Castration (as I call it).

Mr Fotheringham was a regular panelist on the CBC TV programme Front Page Challenge. Like Christie Blatchford (see below), he became more conservative in his later years, and wrote columns for the Toronto Sun until 2000. In 2001, when his column was moved to an inside page of Maclean's, he left in a huff to become a columnist for the Globe & Mail. His syndicated column appeared in 20 newspapers until his retirement in 2007.

Many of his columns were collected into a series of books, beginning with Collected and Bound (1972), then Malice in Blunderland, or, How the Grits stole Christmas (1983); Look Ma — no hands : an affectionate look at our wonderful Tories (1986); Capitol offences : Dr. Foth meets Uncle Sam (1989); Birds of a Feather: The Press and the Politicians (1999); and Last Page First (2001). 

Allan Fotheringham's last book was an autobiography, Boy From Nowhere - A Life in Ninety-One Countries (Dundurn Press, 2011), which Walt recommends. Maclean's marked his passing with a column filled with some of his memorable jibes under the headline: "Allan Fotheringham was loved, revered and loathed but never ignored." That's exactly why I find him an inspiration as I continue with WWW.

On 12 February 2020, Canada lost a thorn in the paws of the smug and a powerful voice for ordinary people when Christie Blatchfor lost a short but fierce battle with cancer. Born on 20 May 1951 in Rouyn QC, Ms Blatchford was one of Canada’s most prominent writers, having been a leading journalist all four of Toronto's daily papers (including two that believe they are "national newspapers").

She started at the Globe and Mail in 1973, as Canada’s first female sports columnist. (I mean she was a female who wrote about sports, not a columnist who wrote about female sports.) She moved to the Toronto Star in 1977 as a features and news writer. They say a conservative is a liberal who just got mugged. Perhaps Ms Blatchford got mugged at the Red Star, for she moved to the right(ish) Toronto Sun in 1982, and finally to the newly launched National Post in 1998.

Over the years, Ms Blatchford's award-winning work covered sports, war, the courts, crime and much more. In recent years she focused more heavily on political commentary. She wrote columns and appeared in videos that displayed both her conservative views and her hard-nosed attitude.  In her last column in the Post, published on 22 October 2019, she expressed her bewilderment that Justin Trudeau was re-elected Prime Minister of Canada.

For her sins of political incorrectness, she was much maligned by the PC police and social commentariat, but readers loved her -- 1000s sent cards and best-wishes when her cancer diagnosis was revealed -- and her vox populi is missed, not least by her colleague Rex Murphy. See "Christie Blatchford was hard as a rock, soft as a teddy bear and Canadians will miss her", in the National Post, 12/2/20. Sub-head: "She was instinctively kind, had an alert and well-exercised radar for the plight of the underdog, the 'little guy,' the person or group never near the head tables of life."

Further reading: Agent 3, who knows a thing or two about what happens when you get caught in the "justice system" [Is dis a system? Mr Natural] recommends Christie Blatchford's Life Sentence - Stories from four decades of court reporting -- or, how I fell out of love with the Canadian justice system (especially judges) (Doubleday Canada 2016).

Footnote: The estimable Rex Murphy is younger than I am, but still old enough and conservative enough to be considered a curmudgeon -- one of trhe last of a dying breed. Last June, some of his younger and more liberal "colleagues" at the Notional Pest  attempted to get him fired for having the temerity to deny the existence of systemic racism in Canada. In spite of the baying of the PC hounds, the NP's editor still gives Mr Murphy his space. Walt says: Don't let `em get to ya, Rex. I don't want to be writing your obituary next year!