I love that members of the Virginian-Pilot Editorial Board write individual columns now. The columns aren’t online, so you have to buy the newspaper to read them.
Odd that writers so leftist would demand tree destruction to read their work.
But for those who like insights to those who proclaim endorsements, you can see the partisan proclivities fairly clearly.
Sunday’s proclamation by Christina Nuckols “If I were governor, I’d raise taxes” shows us a nice view why the Pilot’s record on endorsing Democrats, especially for Governor, is so dependably Dem.
Odd that those who criticize partisan redistricting don’t mind an editorial board so one-sidedly partisan, and definitely more politically homogeneous than the General Assembly ever could be.
It’s also humorous to see an editorial writer show what I’m sure is a universal trait of editorial writers – the “If I were Governor” syndrome. I know America is founded on the belief that anyone can become President, but one hopes that among the penumbras and emanations some wise Supreme Court Justice can derive a protection from editorial board members doing so.
You may deduce that my title of “Why try”, I will now launch into a detailed and highly persuasive argument that Republicans shouldn’t even meet with the Pilot’s editorial board given their Pisa-like slant makes them as likely to endorse a Republican as a mouse is likely to give up cheese for Lent.
No. That’s too easy, and far too obviously true. Mondays demand a higher calling than to point out the plain and proclaim it prescient.
My call is for ALL candidates to say “thanks but no thanks” to engaging in Virginian-Pilot deliberations.
Nuckols tells us why it doesn’t matter anyway. She writes about others the Pilot endorsed who did things in office that were completely contrary to what they said during the campaign. You can hear the oohs and ahs between her applause.
She spends paragraphs lionizing those who lied to voters and then went about raising taxes (amazingly all Democrats, or at least they were Democrats when they raised taxes).
Larry Sabato, oft-quoted partisan hearsay attacker of George Allen, called that “leadership” asking “What’s the point of being Governor if you don’t do anything?”
“Do anything” must mean raising taxes and expanding government then. I wonder if cutting taxes counts as “doing anything?”
How’s this novel approach? Let people who work for their earnings keep more of it. They earned it. Government didn’t.
If the editorial board shares this view that beloved Governors lie during campaigns, it seems resoundingly silly to keep up the charade.
Enough of the editorial interviews. Enough of the questions about policy proposals. Enough of the silliness that any of it matters in gaining an endorsement, which is decided about 3 seconds after the Democrats have chosen their nominee anyway.
If the position of the paper is to applaud Governors who lied to win, what candidates say to you during campaigns increases the value of a bucket of warm spit exponentially by comparison.
In my college days, I remember my journalism instructor most fondly. I often chided him for my grades, and was steadfast in my desire to challenge him on this idea that the press is unbiased.
He told me I was incapable of writing a bias-free story and that everything I wrote had spin, but that didn’t mean that journalists had my same fate.
Dennis Hartig. He had me pegged at age 19. Little did I know he’d lead the Virginian-Pilot editorial page until resigning last year.
I also remember the class when he said my talents seemed to be a good fit for the National Enquirer, and I asked “What’s the Enquirer’s circulation compared to the Pilot’s?”
Yeah, I wasn’t getting an A.
But over the years, Hartig showed a proclivity for pragmatism. His writing, and the preparation he did for it, was far from a foregone conclusion. In fact, he was far less partisan than I ever will be.
Today, we’re left with editorials with attacking Republicans who work for colleges alongside editorials attacking Republicans for not supporting education.
It’s silly, but it’s been silly for a while. Have we crossed the line to futile?
We may have.