At NPR, The Hits Just Keep On Coming . . .

If anyone was able to slog through two hours of prizewinning fussbudget Ari Shapiro's drainpipe voice on Sunday, they would have to conclude that this guy has taken it upon himself to be an apologist for the US 're-invention' of Iraq. Substituting for Auntie Liane, Amazing Ari proves that he's pretty darn diverse. Why, he's all over the map, going to plays, bopping over to Baghdad, and hell, doin' the Sunday breakfast gig as easily as gossiping up on the Hill. Yes, Ari's got the makins' of an NPR superstar. But that voice! That awful, awful, NPRepugnant voice! Can't the engineers de-tweak it so that he doesn't sound like he's talking through a 89-cent crystal-set mike? And that talking! Jabber-jabber-jabber! He almost beats out Inscreep in the speaking-faster-than-he-can-
think department. Oh, but Ari's far more brilliant, isn't he? Thus, the haughty confidence. That sickening confidence that got him busted for his trademark snottiness-that-passes-for-
journalism that FAIR pointed out recently. Can a Dan Schorr prize be revoked?
I'm happy to announce though, that I didn't suffer through all two hours of Ari's spring fling garden party. I couldn't do that to my dog, who looked at me as if, 'you are one sick puppy, man!'
After Ari's chummy little giggle with Nina the T, my dog threatened to lift his leg over the radio. A walk with him in the non-NPR fresh air cured everything.

OK, OK, one more thing: again, again, again, I just have to carp about that troublesome Eleanor Beardsley person, who's been popping up disturbingly often recently, despite some other more normalish reporter covering things France-ish.
E.B. sounds like some busted up plastic doll (that still thinks it's cute) to be found in a yard sale's 'FREE' bin, with a pull string that recites goofy lines about French people in a wobbly voice that doesn't know what notes to hit.
Of course, since she's describing the antics of those wacky Frenchies, what better than Ellie Bea to deliver their news with clownish dreariness? 'Thiszis Ellleneknyorr Beeaerdleah en Paaareeass...' (Did that transliteration really work?)

You know, if some of these NPR-oids really had style and class, like distinctive voices such as Katherine Hepburn or even Jimmy Breslin, it would be one thing, but NPR gets these not-even-ready-for-hammy-acting types, and their 'creative' journalism sucks, too. We as a public deserve much, much better, don't we? Of course, I blame NPR management for letting this bozo patrol get out on the air, but when it's stacked with BushCorp flunkies, there's no accounting for taste.

OK, pretty superficial stuff to complain about, but I ask you, where the hell does NPR GET all this lousy, lousy - really lousy - on-air 'talent'? Probably from the offspring of CEOs, and other power people in bed with NPR who have journalistic stars in their eyes... or whatever. In Britain, 'public' schools are really the very private, elitist establishments that take care of their own. National 'Public' Radio is actually a similarly elitist (well, middle-to-upper class) outfit that only cares about itself. Thus, my battle cry: Rupert - take what is rightfully yours: NPR!!