The problem with Colbert, or rather his act, is that he is as confined to a two-dimensional image as Dorian fucking Gray. He can never step out of his little caricature, all edges, but only relax or intensify it ... Yorick here can only parrot and condescend. He cannot dialogue. He intends to live and die with the thing on.
And so whereas Stuart's comedy can distinguish between our defunct medium - television - and those credulous of it, Colbert's cannot. Its joke is as vast as it is useless and foregone - 'Lord, how can all these rubes believe all this tripe,' to the tittering of some internet chorus, one as much the mirror-image of O'Reilly's passive dittoheads as irony will allow.
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