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Media outlets that hold an anti-Bush opinion, such as Salon.com, have praised Steven Colbert's appearance at the White House Correspondents' Association dinner. Some bloggers, in the worst of knee-jerkism, have complained (less than 24 hours after it was done!) that there wasn't more commentary about his in-Bush's-face performance, citing media bias. I'm a fan of Colbert's show, and I watched the performance on C-Span, via the net. I'll give him points for, at least, being courageous. I certainly couldn't do what he did. Not that I'd want to, of course.

Most of his gig simply wasn't all that funny, and when you are a comic that is pretty much the point. Attempts to implicate or critique without humor are like trying to talk to people without first putting on your clothes. Obviously he was critiquing Bush policies, the people around him, as well as Bush the man. Obviously people who already were decided on these counts would find Colbert's perspective refreshing—along the lines of, "finally, someone is saying that in such close proximity to Bush! Yeeeaahh!" And thus accept the lack of comedy in light of their sentiments being aired.

But something struck me, during as well as after watching the performance, that Richard Cohen put into words. Beyond not being funny, according to him:

Colbert was ... rude. Rude is not the same as brash. It is not the same as brassy. It is not the same as gutsy or thinking outside the box. Rudeness means taking advantage of the other person's sense of decorum or tradition or civility that keeps that other person from striking back or, worse, rising in a huff and leaving. The other night, that person was George W. Bush.

...On television, Colbert is often funny. But on his own show he appeals to a self-selected audience that reminds him often of his greatness. In Washington he was playing to a different crowd, and he failed dismally in the funny person's most solemn obligation: to use absurdity or contrast or hyperbole to elucidate -- to make people see things a little bit differently. He had a chance to tell the president and much of important (and self-important) Washington things it would have been good for them to hear. But he was, like much of the blogosphere itself, telling like-minded people what they already know and alienating all the others. In this sense, he was a man for our times.

He also wasn't funny.

Emphasis mine, because that's what struck me about, not so much as Colbert's act (which is now familiar, and often funny), but the situation in which it played. Colbert has his own show, where this sort of schtick will likely continue, as he is free to do. (Hopefully never again such a pitiful short film as the Helen Thomas is chasing me debacle.) There is a time and place for severe political critique, to in the words of Salon's Joan Walsh, "reveal, with devastating clarity, how Bush's well-oiled myth machine works," if that is your cup of tea. But with the president sitting next to you, the invited guest, and in no position to counter with anything except what he did actually do (an icy handshake), that was neither the time nor the place. You can hate the president and/or his policies and still hold a sense of decorum while in his or her presence. All presidents, except in the most extreme cases such as Nixon, deserve fundamental respect. We must fight the cynicism that disallows basic decency. How odd it was for Colbert to seem to genuinely thank the president and the first lady after his act ended. I'm glad he did, but it seemed incongruous given the laundry list of insinuations just thrown.

UPDATE: Demonstrating my points perfectly, here is today's Salon: "The only thing worse than the mainstream media ignoring Stephen Colbert's astonishing sendup of the Bush administration and its media courtiers Saturday night is what happened when they started to pay attention to it." I mean, honestly, as if there is an effin' conspiracy against Colbert. Always the evil, vague "they".