They say that Barbara Walters had her finger on the pulse of America. But interviewing celebrities with soft-pitch questions is hardly having your finger on the pulse. Nor is an ignorant gab-fest with a panel of opinionated and ill-informed women.
Just a vapid, fawning hack, marketed as some kind of hard-hitting journalist, when all she really did was plumb the shallows of a prettyboy or fancygirl, or stroke the ego of a politician or flavor of the day.
She leaves the profession worse than she found it, her audience dumber than she found it, and we haven’t hit bottom yet.

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