Within hours of the breaking news it was already a cliche: The broadcaster who liked to say his talent was “on loan from God” was gone. Rush Limbaugh was in the hands of his Creator.

The undisputed king of talk radio, the right’s lightning rod, the conservative voice of the little guy, the relentless antagonist of the liberal media had died, 32 years after he stormed to the top of the ratings and stayed there. His death came one year and two weeks after he stunned his massive listening audience with news that he had terminal lung cancer.

Still, yesterday’s somber announcement by his widow, Kathryn, in the opening moments of “The Rush Limbaugh Show,” was shocking. 

It shouldn’t have been. As Rush’s absences became more and more frequent, it was clear that America’s Anchorman was dying. Yet when he was on the air Rush sounded like himself. Strong, biting, sarcastic and amusing as hell. It was enough to make his audience believe he might be around a while longer.

What those who never actually listened to his show and who formed their opinions from sound bites and mainstream media attacks never understood about Limbaugh was just how funny he could be.

While he was widely regarded as the voice of conservative America, that wasn’t what made millions of people turn on their radios at noon every day, year after year, decade after decade.

Rush was - above all else - an entertainer. He could deliver an unscripted three-hour show five days a week and keep millions entertained with his wit, his insights and, yes, his outrageousness.

He was one part William F. Buckley, and one part Don Imus.

But what made Rush so refreshing was his fearlessness. He wasn't afraid of sponsor boycotts, threats to radio stations that carried his syndicated show or negative press. In fact, he seemed to relish the fury of the left and baited his political enemies. There was nothing he enjoyed more than skewering members of the press and Hollywood liberals.

Writing in 1992, The Washington Post’s Henry Allen described Limbaugh’s new-found success this way:

He was the right man to articulate the resentments of the liberal haters of the '80s -- a lonely small-town guy who was just as smart and funny as the people who sneered at lonely small-town guys. 

Talk radio, it has been said, is the last small town in America. If that’s the case, Rush Limbaugh was its undisputed mayor.

Sadly, there is no obvious successor. No one to step into that tricky noontime slot and get ratings even close to Rush’s.

Rush singlehandedly breathed life back into AM radio while shaping conservative thought and opinion. 

As deeply as he was beloved by his listeners, he was loathed by the left.

Their venom was on full display Wednesday. Like cockroaches after the lights go out, the haters swarmed social media, ghoulishly celebrating the cancer death of someone they’d never met. 

It’s tempting to repeat some of the rancor here to show just how twisted and bitter the left has become. 

But I’m saving that for another day.

Instead, I’ll close with a pitch-perfect Tweet from the pastor of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic Church in Newport News, in the spirit of the first day of Lent: