First we had news.
Then we had news with commentators.
Somewhere on the side around this time, we also began to have infotainment.
With the rise of new media, yesterday's commentators--learned pundits, professorial soothsayers, ex-Congresspeople of various stripes--have morphed into commentainers. O'Reilly, Hannity, Dick Morris, Michelle Malkin: they are accessible, funny, spout some memorable lines, infuriate even their fans at least once a week, but we watch them with grins on our faces. We hush other conversations, even lay down the knife and fork, so we won't miss any zingers. Each has his/her tics, tropes, fetish objects. We know what to expect; and like the professionals they are, commentainers deliver.
Ann Coulter, though, always the bad kid in the play group, has stepped outside her character, and that is not professional. Politainment, of which commentainment is a subgroup, does not present the ideal venue for going through the fourth wall, let alone driving a Mack truck through the plywood. Coulter lost perspective on her --oh well, let's call it what it is, her shtick. Like the too-clever kid in the classroom, who just can't resist passing that note although she knows the teacher's on to her and is already steaming up the aisle, detention slip in hand, Coulter showed she is too much in love with her own witty-wacky self to think about who might be listening. She couldn't help it. She's not in control.
I find this scary, because people who cannot control themselves are mostly drunk (Mel Gibson), on drugs (Britney Spears), or afflicted with some form of mental illness (diaper'd astronaut). These are not people one wants talking on TV. They are not those I'd like to represent my causes. Their antics may amuse and entertain, oh sure, but when they let the mask drop, things get ugly. Coulter's claim that she was simply making an Isiah Thomas/rehab joke is disingenuous: she might have called Edwards all sorts of things, but the word that came out was the word caught on tape. "Bozo", "sphincter", "phony", "airhead" -- all of those describe John Edwards just as well, and have no connotation other than as insults. If she said (Latin word for bassoon) on purpose, she's got problems; if it, gosh, I don't know, just slipped out -- she's got problems.
I say let's exile Coulter from the Commentainer's Guild; three months ought to be enough, while she goes somewhere to learn about perspective and humility (Judeo-Christian virtues, after all). Perhaps, after all, her "rehab" crack was simply a veiled but desperate plea ... where are her parents? Did she get a tattoo that same day? Ann, we're here to help.