Every newspaper in the country keeps a coterie of solons on staff; a group of such surpassing wisdom and intellect that they can write on any topic with cogency and empathy, able to advise from the most exhaulted potentate to the humblest personage; comfortable at all levels of government from President to Governor to Mayor; equally adept in advising CEOs, school boards, and fellow citizens; nimbly covering politics, business, fashion, entertainment, science, and society at large or small — any and all subjects they put a mind to — and all for no extra cost to the reader. For them the past is illlumed like midday in the tropics and the future is no more the undiscovered country. What are these august sages called you might wonder? Why, editorial writers.
But it is passing strange that on the subjects nearest and dearest to the hearts of newspaper owners, circulation and reputation, these solons are not consulted, nor do they propound their wisdom to the masses. The subject must gnaw at them day and night – why do our readers abandon us? Yet the editorial writers remain silent – unasked and unanswering. Why are they not consulted? Yet not consulted, why not act still? Why do they approach their doom without their customary overflowing, uncontainable wisdom and knowledge? It remains a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma that the owners do not ask, and the editorialist do not tell.
(After composing most of this in my head I find out that Michael Kinsley wrote something similar. Great minds think alike.)
