Been a while since we checked in with eccentric Hollywood chronicler (NOTE: we did not use the words "crazy," "crackpot," or "lunatic") Nikki Finke. Wonder what folks are saying about her?
If the way she has treated me, both in private correspondence and in attacks on me in the community, which she never seems to realize get back to me in a hurry, is any indication of how she treats friends and colleagues, I can only thank God for becoming officially disqualified. The blog form was pretty much invented for characters like Nikki Finke. The louder, harsher, and more dramatic you are, the more popular. The only danger for a person like Nikki is that embarrassing elements of your nature tend to creep in whether you want them to or not. In my eyes, that is what has happened with Nikki this last week. She hasn't really done much journalism since she started with the L.A. Weekly. She has become the screaming bag lady at the corner of Journalism and Vendetta, the beauty and wealth of her youth barely visible through the dirt and the incoherent ranting. Hard to look away. And it has made her the star of that paper in a time when quality journalism has never been under more intense attack. There is no shame left.
Wow. That seems a little harsh on "the blog form."