A Love Letter to Jon Stewart

Dear Mr. Stewart,

Hi.  It’s me, Allie.  You have literally no idea who I am so I’m not sure why I’m bothering with introductions.  Anyway.

I won’t lie to you, when I first saw the news that you were stepping down, it was on Twitter and had been tweeted out by ArtsMic.  Given the disdain I feel for that particular news outlet, I simply assumed this was an error.  But, alas, I got a “News Alert” from a “respectable” media outlet and had to accept the truth–that you’ll be leaving us by year’s end.

Although you and the world seemed to struggle with defining what exactly it is that you do (“fake news,” “news commentary,” “political commentary,” or something in between), I’ve seen this role as secondary to a more important one.  You call America on its bullshit.

I’m fortunate as an individual to have great friends, two of whom blog here with me, who call me on my bullshit.  When I’m needlessly angry at people who do not deserve it, when I am unnecessarily self-deprecating, when I am overly self-confident, when I really shouldn’t have another glass of wine…they call me on it.  “That’s a lot,” they’ll say, or offer a sarcastic “Allllll right, Allie,” which is a gentle way of reminding me that I’m getting too worked up.

This is the role you’ve played for our country for the past sixteen years.  You call us on our bullshit.  Left unchecked, we would spiral downward into a strange and terrible blend of overwrought patriotism, paralyzing belief in America’s irreparable decline, frenetic media shouting, and willful and/or resigned ignorance of current events.  That guy’s no fun at parties.  So we, as a nation, owe you a debt of gratitude.

Thank you for reminding us of our best qualities when we feel like crap, and of our embarrassing past actions when we start getting too full of ourselves.  Thanks for cutting through the noise and the yelling to highlight what truly matters in a way that entertains and informs.

Thanks for expecting more from us as a country.  Good luck in whatever comes next, but 11pm, Monday through Thursday, simply won’t be the same without the best friend we can always count on to call us on our bullshit.

Best,

Allie (and, maybe, America)