As you may already know, if you visit blogs whose proprietors either get up earlier or aren’t bowed down with the burdens of running a quadruped intensive care unit, this is a sad day for the blogosphere — Jim Capozzola has passed away.
Jim was a fine writer with an insightful grasp of the medium, who was somehow able to make the political personal and the personal universal, while avoiding both mirror gazing solipsism and wonkish droning. He was also uncommonly generous with his online notoriety, adopting a number of bloggy little urchins and helping them to flourish. Like Tbogg, he was one of the very first high profile bloggers to link to World o’ Crap, and did much to expose new readers to s.z.’s unique brand of gentle, but thorough snark.
Perhaps the greatest thing about blogging is how it works to amplify, rather than mute, an original voice. The immediacy of the medium preserves flaring, but fleeting passion, the daily accretion of small details creates a map of the writer’s mind, and the absence of an editorial filter leaves the writer free to improbably fold, squeeze, and twist the language like balloon animals, allowing the reader to see that the proper response to cynicism, chicanery, and malfeasance isn’t always despair; sometimes it’s a giraffe.
The blogosphere has lost a unique and irreplacable voice. And a great giraffe maker. Farewell, Jim.