The New York Times obituary geek in me notes the following:

Length of Ronald Reagan’s obituary in the Times: 10,757 words.

Length of Richard Nixon’s obituary in the Times: 13,158 words.

Length of Queen Victoria’s obituary in the Times: 16,142 words.

Here’s how to make it into the New York Times obituaries:

It is best to die before noon, 2 p.m. at the latest, so that there will be decent time for justice to be done before the early evening deadline of the first edition — and less inconvenience to the staff. All those interested in having the Times sum up their lives, even briefly, should also avoid dying on Saturday, when the deadline is very early.

Unless you’re an ex-president, apparently. (It helps when your obituary is written way in advance.)

As for television, I despise the tendency of TV media to tell us to feel reverent and sad after someone dies, particularly someone as controversial as Reagan. Even Nixon became an angel in the press when he died. The Nixon hagiography was tempered, at least, by this entertaining Nixon obituary by Hunter S. Thompson.

He has poisoned our water forever. Nixon will be remembered as a classic case of a smart man shitting in his own nest. But he also shit in our nests, and that was the crime that history will burn on his memory like a brand. By disgracing and degrading the Presidency of the United States, by fleeing the White House like a diseased cur, Richard Nixon broke the heart of the American Dream.

Free speech rules.