A new Pew Research Poll notes that only 28% of Americans could correctly identify the number of troops that have died in Iraq, which stands just shy of 4,000. This is an enormous drop in awareness about the human toll of this war; only seven months ago, in March 2007, 54% were familiar with the death count.

The drop, however, can be accounted for. The Project for Excellence in Journalism recently found that coverage of Iraq has fallen from 15% of total news coverage last July to 3% in February, so it’s not just the people who have lost interest in the war. It’s the journalists, too.

The link above has a great chart that shows - via a squiggly line that resembles an EKG heart monitor - the percentage of news coverage devoted to the war in Iraq.

Another question the survey asked: “Who is Oprah Winfrey backing for president?” 84% of Americans nailed that one.

The Devolved Larry

From the first moment I laid eyes on Larry King, that late-night automaton visible on millions of televisions every evening, I knew he wasn’t for me. Sort of the way we have a natural allegiance to either Letterman or Leno, but we can’t really say why. I was probably five years old, but I knew, just by observing him doubled over that that obnoxious microphone, that something was not right.

Now that I’m somewhat older and somewhat (read: not at all) wiser, I can verbalize and communicate the reasons behind my distaste for the King of Late Night.
As a journalist - and as a human being - I know what it takes to conduct a good interview, and it’s no secret. What’s necessary are the the same basic elements of a good conversation. Respect. Empathy. Understanding. Listening.

Larry King lacks all of these things, though to different degrees.
He asks the questions that any People or National Enquirer reader would want to hear about, which is fine considering that his audience is likely composed of that ilk, but he does it with such little tact that you are almost embarrassed watching him.

Case in point: tonight, while interviewing Janet Jackson, King listens to her reiterate her love of performing. Just as she finishes her relatively tedious diatribe, he candy-coats a nasty little line of questions.

Larry: “By the way you look terrific, anyone would say that. You know, you look terrific.”

Janet: “Thank you.”

Larry: “And you’ve had weight problems, right?

Janet: “Yeah.”

Larry: “How have you dealt with that?”

Jackson: “I guess, like everybody else.”

Larry: “How do you lose it?”

Jackson: “Um, it becomes a way of life or it should be. It’s what you put in your body and how you exercise and those kind of things.”

Larry: “Is it difficult for you to diet?”

Isn’t there a better angle that King could take here? Does anybody seriously care if it is difficult for Janet Jackson to diet? All it does is make her uncomfortable and more distant from his questions. Her answers ultimately become shorter and more defensive,which hurts all three parties involved.

Charlie Rose, here I come.

On her Daily Show appearance last night, Hillary Clinton must have prepared herself with about eight cups of coffee. I haven’t seen the New York senator so excited about anything since her diatribe about Obama and the cherubs. And her laugh-it-off demeanor came on the heels of that almost-funny Saturday Night Live skit where she thanked Amy Poehler for the honest imitation.

Clinton must be running out of ideas if, only days before the two primaries that will probably make or break her campaign, she is heading to the late-night comedy audiences for approval. Even she couldn’t resist labeling as “pathetic” her Daily Show visit.

Worse, she surrounded herself during the entire interview - which occurred, not unlike Elvis’ “Aloha From Hawaii” concert, via satellite - with a multicultural pastiche of smiling children in bright clothing. The children were apparently so unmoved by The Hill’s message that they, well, didn’t move. Perhaps they were beaten into submission before the show began, but more likely they were being controlled by a director with a baton and a whip for the ones who got out of line.

Jon Stewart resisted commenting on Clinton’s background until the end, when he noted their boredom. It’s amazing enough that they were awake. If the show was in fact filmed live, those kids should have been tucked in hours before.

She always was good with kids

When my mother and father called me this morning, I assumed it was to urge me in the direction of a job. Apparently, they don’t want me to live in the basement for the remainder of my 20s.

But when I groggily answered the phone at 7:30 a.m. - Mom and Dad rarely consider the fact that I generally try to wake up when the sun is at least halfway down - I was greeted with a plea to “be careful.” “Try not to get arrested,” Dad said. Interesting, I thought. They had somehow gotten wind of Unofficial. But how?

It turns out that the Chicago Tribune had actually run an AP story about Chancellor Herman trying to shut down our holiest of holy days. But by the looks of things on the street a few hours ago, it didn’t quite work out.

My parents, nervous, God-fearing, middle-aged folk that they are, were reading the paper and saw that the fine university their son attends has a bit of a drinking problem. They wanted to warn me of the dangers of alcoholism. “We just think you should avoid the bad apples,” they said. I took their advice. Instead, I watched the bad apples.

And here are three things I saw today that I believe embody the spirit of this strange holiday:

1. Three girls, dark eye makeup running like O.J. back in ‘94, attempting an explanation to one of the Champaign County sheriffs. It didn’t look good.

2. A heavily intoxicated and shockingly incoherent girl - “I not drunk! I not drunk!” - being carried like a wounded soldier by two friends, presumably to the nearest apartment but hopefully to a hospital.

3. A paddy wagon, though it looked more like a bus, with a few unlucky victims loaded inside. Perhaps they weren’t being arrested, but I’d say the cops were less interested in the cool beads they collected than in their fingerprints.

Looks like Super Tuesday is starting to get ugly. Romney is accusing McCain of shifting West Virginia’s Republican voters toward Huckabee the Underdog. The strategy, Romney’s campaign manager claims, represents

a back-room deal with the tax-and-spend candidate (McCain) thought could best stop Gov. Romney’s campaign of conservative change.

Maybe. More likely, it’s a last-second “wolf-crying” plea by Romney, who looks to be standing in McCain’s shadow. Romney, claiming this morning that many people view McCain as the “inevitable choice,” is starting to look a little worried. That wrinkle-free forehead is starting to show some lines.

Sending his campaign manager to the reporters instead of going himself - he refused answer questions about West Virginia - sends the message that he is either miserably afraid or not afraid enough. If the accusation is true, Romney should have been out there making it. If it’s not, well, then quite clearly it never should have been made in the first place.

With one down and twenty-three to go - not including American Samoa, which barely deserves the subordinate sentence I’m giving it - there’s already a fight. It’s going to be a long night.

The time has finally come. Yes, it’s true: Robert De Niro has endorsed our home state senator, Barack Obama, for the presidency. He even took a little jab at Hillary in the process. Forget all the Talking Heads and the other “Media People” telling you what to do. Let your biases wash away into the sewers this evening along with all that snow runoff.

Listen to the only actor - besides Daniel Day-Lewis - whose opinion has any value in this mixed up, jumbled up, shook up world. In my life, I choose to go where De Niro goes, to do what De Niro does. I would follow the man straight to Thermopylae. And I suggest you do the same. If he changes his mind and goes with Huckabee, then I’ll ride the Evangelical train, too.

Of course, you could just go the Rip Torn way and support McCain. Whichever.

As most of my friends can attest, I’m about as big a football fan as Mitt Romney. While campaigning in Iowa, the former Massachusetts governor apparently couldn’t tell the difference between the World Series and the Super Bowl. For shame.

The good news is that, while I don’t know that much about football, I do happen to like the Super Bowl. Though I wouldn’t say I love it, I like the Super Bowl for a very clear and explicable reason: I love all things that are purely and unabashedly American in nature. I like hot dogs. I like Bob Dylan. I like the Fourth of July. I also thoroughly enjoy both chili and beer.
Like so many other “fair-weather” fans, though, I watch the Super Bowl in large part because of the commercials. If America is not founded on the solid principles of commercialism and advertising - that is, tell people what they want and tell them to get it now - then I have spent a lifetime misjudging my surroundings.

This Super Bowl is special, however, for more than just the ads, which I hear will involve at least one Victoria’s Secret model and possibly an homage to “The Godfather.” This mega event - one-third of this fine country might be eating dinner in front of the TV tonight - manages to dovetail very nicely with that other infinitely less important competition happening right now - remember, the one for the leader of the free world?

That’s right, I’m in it for the politics. Especially Obama’s new $250,000 ad, “Join,” which you can view here. The ad contains some of my favorite Democratic props: A guitar, a beard, a text-messaging opportunity and something about “change.” Looks pretty sweet, I would say, since I like (and own) at least two of those things.

A heated political campaign in bed with the biggest football event of the year truly is the pinnacle of American culture. It doesn’t get much better than this.

From today’s University Massmail about the approaching blizzard:

The Maintenance Division is responsible for providing snow and ice
removal on 23 miles of roadway, 130 parking lots with 16,000 spaces, 80
miles of sidewalk, 6 miles of bike lane and over two hundred and fifty
buildings on 1400 acres. Snow removal after a major storm event,
especially when high winds are involved, can be daunting and time
consuming.

I’m sorry, but all I hear is snowday, snowday, snowday. Call me crazy, but it doesn’t seem entirely unfeasible. For those interested, I’m planning an ark to save all the things worthwhile in Champaign-Urbana, should the blizzard decimate our beloved twin cities. If you think you meet the criteria, post below. I promise to get back to you with my decision before the End of Days.

In other news, this web site allows you to make your own snowflakes. Apparently, all snowflakes are unique. But the ones I saw today looked pretty much the same.

Some of the best quotes in the presidential debate, as observed by your narrator:

“If they’re going to vote for me, make sure they come. If they’re not, don’t let them out of their driveway.”

-Mike Huckabee (corrected 1/30, after realizing I may have typed this too fast), in Florida after his probable loss

“Others have said they would personally be happy to pay higher taxes. I welcome their enthusiasm. I’m pleased to report that the IRS accepts both checks and money orders.”

-President Bush, yesterday’s State of the Union

“I know you don’t read all my stuff.”

-Barack Obama, to John Edwards, at the South Carolina debate

“I do when I can’t get to sleep at night.”

-Edwards’ response

Certainly this Washington Post article, which concerns a report about 935 ways the Bush administration has lied to your face, is no massive surprise. But no one’s perfect, right?

Don’t assume that because I’ve chosen this as my inaugural post, it is somehow a seamless indicator of my political leaning(s). I’m as pro-Bush as the next anti-war, pro-choice, Mexican immigrant, gay, pro-stem cell research guy. I just don’t like it when people lie to me.

 http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/blog/2008/01/23/BL2008012301758.html?hpid=opinionsbox1