I didn’t know David Carr well. I’ll say that first, because if you are going to write about the operator of journalism’s most finely attuned b.s. detector, you’d best dispense with the b.s. up front.
I met Carr, the New York Times media columnist who died suddenly Thursday at age 58, only a few times professionally. I never worked with him. But I worked with him in my head. If you were on the media beat, you knew that whatever you were doing, Carr would be on it, and his take would be fast, witty, deeply reported and sweepingly analytical. He would pierce the target, and you would hope to lob something within the same ten-block radius. If you covered media in any way, it was malpractice not to keep a small David Carr on retainer somewhere in your consciousness. All the more so if you did anything else
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