I used to take a drink on occasion with a network newsman famed for his impenetrable calm--his apparent pulse rate that of a large mammal in deep hibernation--and in an avuncular moment he advised me that I'd do all right, in the long run, if I could only avoid the kind of journalism committed to the keyboard "with trembling fingers." I recognized the wisdom of this advice and endeavored over the years to write as little as possible when my blood pressure was soaring and my face was streaked with tears. The lava flows of indignation ebb predictably with age and hardening arteries, and nearing three-score I thought I'd never have to take another tranquilizer--or a double bourbon--to keep my fingers steady on the keys.Beware, he writes "with trembling fingers" and is quite shrill, but this is an extraordinarily passionate piece of commentary. Read it if you dare.
I never imagined 2004.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
"With Trembling Fingers"
I read this article back in May when Hal Crowther first published it, but I just ran across it again. He begins:
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