John Crosby's pugnacious pose on the jacket of "Out of the Blue" looks like a Walter Mitty conception of the cynical newspaperman. Though there's a swagger in Crosby's prose as well, his wit and sound judgment as a reviewer makes this collection of his best columns very entertaining.

Wit is the more important of Crosby's attributes, for as he admits himself, even a limited critical insight can recognize the ridiculous aspects of radio and television. And with commercials, soap operas, and give-away shows, any reviewer finds Sitting Duck the staple fare of networks and channels.

Crosby is outstanding because his highly literate humour makes the sitting duck a worthwhile prey. Pleasing the victims of radio and T.V. with far more than the public expression of their private irritation, Crosby budgeons the asinine with genuine artistry. He attacks script cliches with quiet exasperation, and the patently foolish with deadly understatement. The charm of Crosby's style is that you never feel the reins of his restraint. With no pretense of detachment, his approach is utterly personal. Amusement, annoyance, and occasionally wrath all find expression in a relaxed conversational tone. With this combination of wit and ease of manner, even the heavy dose of Crosby in "Out of the Blue" is palatable.

While a daily review of radio and television offerings demands above all discerning humour, Crosby recognizes the constructive role of the critic as well. He vigorously assaults the "proof" of Hooper ratings that audiences are content with the present quality of broadcasts and asserts that adequate leadership from the broadcasters would free both mediums from tired patterns and poor quality.

Crosby is quick to applaud exceptions in his general picture of electronic idiocy, whether he finds them in scripts for "Duffy's Tavern" or in televised opera. In "Out of the Blue," however, there isn't much applause-- probably because Crosby's catcalls are much more enjoyable.