The American press's fetishization of scandal serves as a reminder that the nation's obsession with self-importance can be both cringe-worthy and darkly comedic. The recent tale of Olivia Nuzzi, Ryan Lizza, and Robert F Kennedy Jr.'s alleged infidelity is a case in point.
What makes this story amusing is not just the audacity of RFK's attempts to present his misbehavior as poetic license – he even penned erotic poetry about it – but also the earnestness with which journalists covering the scandal are treating it. Their prose reads like melodrama, replete with overwrought metaphors and portentous tone.
Olivia Nuzzi's account of her flight from New York to LA, where she fled amidst a media firestorm, is particularly noteworthy for its inadvertent humor. Her descriptions of the spreading wildfires in LA – complete with meticulous updates on acreage burned – have a surreal quality that one can't help but find entertaining.
Meanwhile, Ryan Lizza's attempts to narrate his own downfall, likening himself to bamboo struggling to contain a raging fire, are laughable in their earnestness. His repeated uses of the bamboo metaphor border on self-parody, and it's hard not to imagine him beating his chest like a drum, proclaiming, "I'm still here! The bamboo will never conquer me!"
The American press's treatment of this scandal is, on the whole, straight-faced and somber, yet there's an undercurrent of mirth that threatens to break through. The only thing missing is a healthy dose of self-awareness, which would allow journalists to laugh at themselves and the absurdity they've created.
In the end, it's not about diminishing RFK's transgressions but about recognizing that in America, even the most egregious scandals are treated with an air of gravitas that can be quite disarming. It's time for the press to acknowledge this aspect of its culture and indulge in a bit of levity – after all, as Marina Hyde so astutely observes, "a good laugh is how the rest of us get by" when our leaders shit the bed.
What makes this story amusing is not just the audacity of RFK's attempts to present his misbehavior as poetic license – he even penned erotic poetry about it – but also the earnestness with which journalists covering the scandal are treating it. Their prose reads like melodrama, replete with overwrought metaphors and portentous tone.
Olivia Nuzzi's account of her flight from New York to LA, where she fled amidst a media firestorm, is particularly noteworthy for its inadvertent humor. Her descriptions of the spreading wildfires in LA – complete with meticulous updates on acreage burned – have a surreal quality that one can't help but find entertaining.
Meanwhile, Ryan Lizza's attempts to narrate his own downfall, likening himself to bamboo struggling to contain a raging fire, are laughable in their earnestness. His repeated uses of the bamboo metaphor border on self-parody, and it's hard not to imagine him beating his chest like a drum, proclaiming, "I'm still here! The bamboo will never conquer me!"
The American press's treatment of this scandal is, on the whole, straight-faced and somber, yet there's an undercurrent of mirth that threatens to break through. The only thing missing is a healthy dose of self-awareness, which would allow journalists to laugh at themselves and the absurdity they've created.
In the end, it's not about diminishing RFK's transgressions but about recognizing that in America, even the most egregious scandals are treated with an air of gravitas that can be quite disarming. It's time for the press to acknowledge this aspect of its culture and indulge in a bit of levity – after all, as Marina Hyde so astutely observes, "a good laugh is how the rest of us get by" when our leaders shit the bed.