After a long, candid and public battle with colon cancer, former White House press secretary and television-radio host Tony Snow died early this morning.
I’ll miss him. He seemed like a pretty good guy, and a smart one, too. And he did a better job of presenting a bumble-tongued stumbler like Bush to the American people than any of the others who tried. And on top of it, unlike that third-rate hack Scott McClellan, he remained loyal, too.
That said, let me ramble a bit. Every time somebody like Tony Snow dies of cancer at what we consider a very young age (52 - although not so long ago, death at that age was the usual, not the abnormal, occurrence), I feel a shiver. Because wealthy, powerful, politically well-connected celebrities like Snow can access the best of the best in medical treatment - and yet, even as all of us who are rah-rahing the onrush of the Singularity are forced by his death to admit, we have a long way to go.
Dead of cancer at 52 is not the description of Singularity-spawned Strong Life Extension I would want to subscribe to.
UPDATE: I just used Internet Exploder to watch the Brit Hume obit - since the miserable latest iteration of Firefox hates videos for some reason. Obviously, we all know such things - except for the final details - are canned well in advance. I wonder - did Tony ever take a look at Brit’s tribute? If it were me, the temptation would be near overwhelming.
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