RIP Hot Air scribe Jazz Shaw, taken too soon.
Jazz Shaw, Rest in Peace
Jazz Shaw, one of Hot Air’s finest voices, has been silenced by illness, as you may have read today at his site, on X, or Instapundit. Regular readers may think they knew Jazz just as well as any of us here at the Townhall digital empire who worked with him. There’s truth to that, too. Jazz’s writing voice was every bit him — direct, without pretense, and with a knowing friendliness that made readers everywhere feel like he’d brought you into his living room for a chat about whatever was on his mind.Even if sometimes it was to rake you over the coals a bit. Jazz was good at that.
He was a sharp operator, too. In a business where you’ve got to produce a lot of words on any number of topics — and where you have readers with long memories — Jazz got it right more often than not. When we disagreed, I always went back to double-check my work.
All of these public details you probably know, so I want to share one of those little personal stories that get to the heart of who a person really is. Jazz’s X profile reads, “Editor/writer, Salem Media, Hot Air, The Debrief. Horseradish farmer. Jets fan. Curmudgeon. Opinions are my own and I’ve got a lot of them.”
Wait… horseradish farmer? He’s joking, right?
He is not, as it happens, not in any way, shape, or form.
Out of all the many fellow ReichWingNaziDeathBeast bloggers I’ve known and forged something akin to real friendships with over lo, these many years—first and foremost among ‘em being the esteemed Vodkapundit Stephen Green, the author of the above obit whose kind praise for and link to my “Tough Chicks” essay way back in the day (well before PJMedia was even a twinkle in Roger Simon’s eye) is really what got this h’yar hogwallow off the ground, for which the wider world will probably never forgive poor old Steve—I somehow never made the acquaintance of Jazz Shaw, although I certainly excerpted him enough times here over the years.
That said, Jazz was a fine writer, a cut well above the common herd, and will be sorely missed. Farewell to thee, Jazz Shaw. In the words of my Irish ancestors, may you be in Heaven an hour before the Devil knows you’re dead.