Edwards

'œWhether or not the country is ready to elect a woman president,' said Maureen Dowd in The New York Times, 'œit's definitely not ready for a metrosexual in chief.' That's why Democratic candidate John Edwards' long-shot presidential run may have come to an end last week, when financial disclosure forms revealed that he had paid $800 for two haircuts from a posh Beverly Hills stylist. Edwards, a handsome, blow-dried former trial lawyer, has been fighting off the 'œBreck Girl' label since the last election, and this decadent display of vanity only reinforces Edwards' reputation as a superficial lightweight. All week, bloggers gleefully linked to a YouTube video showing the candidate combing, spraying, and fluffing his hair for two straight minutes to the tune of 'œI Feel Pretty.'

So much for Edwards' attempt 'œto position himself as a populist champion of the middle and working classes,' said Adam Nagourney, also in the Times. The embarrassed candidate said the trims were never meant to be an official expense, and he promptly reimbursed his campaign out of his own well-lined pockets. 'œBut the reaction from voters suggest that it was not a matter of who paid for it; it was the simple fact of a $400 haircut.' Ordinary Americans want candidates they can relate to, said Robin Givhan in The Washington Post. 'œThat's what all the diner visits, rolled-up sleeves, and folksy talk' are for. Edwards' sin was reminding all those average Joes that when he's not campaigning, he's not like them at all. 'œA $400 haircut isn't folksy.'

It also isn't an important news story, said Michael Kinsley in Time. Or at least it wouldn't have been before the era of the 24-hour, permanent campaign. With so many outlets covering a presidential race that drags on for two and a half years, the media's demand for material has become insatiable. 'œFor every half-decent political story from four or eight years ago, we need approximately 17 such stories today.' May I make a wild suggestion? asked Katrina vanden Heuvel in Thenation.com. Reporters might fill some of that space or time by actually covering the issues. For months, Edwards has been crisscrossing the country, giving policy speeches far more detailed and daring than those of either Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama. Somehow, though, the press has ignored him. Think about it: The U.S. has 50 million people without health insurance, has falling wages and high job insecurity, and is mired in a losing war in Iraq. 'œYou've got a serious guy talking about all these issues. And the press wants to talk about his haircut?'

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Cho: Was it wrong to air the videos?

It was 'œa worldwide scoop and a journalistic dilemma,' said Howard Kurtz in The Washington Post. When Seung-Hui Cho mailed NBC News his package of hate-filled videos and snapshots during a two-hour lull in his murder spree at Virginia Tech, it was inevitable that the network would choose to broadcast his gloating, hate-filled manifesto. But did NBC go overboard? For several days, NBC saturated the airwaves with the videos, especially on its cable outlet, MSNBC; in the competitive frenzy, other networks followed suit. Viewers were subjected to repeated photos and video images of Cho pointing guns at the camera and his head, holding a hunting knife to his throat, and likening himself to a martyr who would kill, and die, to avenge lonely, bullied souls everywhere. Soon, though, angry calls and e-mails came pouring in. 'œThere is a fine line between news and exploitation,' wrote one Maryland viewer. 'œNBC has crossed it.'

By the time the networks responded to the backlash, said Colorado prosecutor Steven Jensen in the New York Daily News, the damage had been done. Like the Columbine High School killers Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, Cho documented his self-pitying rage and messianic madness 'œnot as a cry for help' but to achieve in death the notoriety and attention that eluded him in his pathetic life. The networks, faced as always with the need to fill the airwaves with 24/7 coverage, 'œplayed right into his hands.' In fact, the networks have made it likely that other seething, lonely nuts will follow Cho's path to the gun store, said Lionel Shriver in The Washington Post. Somewhere, you can be sure, some kid has already seen Cho ranting on TV or on the front page of a newspaper and imagined his own face there. It's basic psychology: 'œReward behavior, and it rises.'That may or may not be true, said Don Wycliff in the Chicago Tribune, but a news organization cannot suppress important information on the basis of such theories. Cho's rantings provided powerful insight into the 'œmental and emotional state'' that led to the greatest mass shooting in U.S. history. By sharing what it knew with the public, NBC merely 'œdid what a good news organization is supposed to do.'' Nothing but Cho's own words could have offered comparable insight, said USA Today in an editorial. Now that we've all seen and heard Cho explain what triggered his rampage, maybe someone will recognize the next killer before he shows up at school with a gun.