You get a sky shot! And you get a sky shot! And you get a sky shot. …
I have never paid the least bit of attention to Oprah Winfrey, not even when she sat down with Ol’ Whatsisface to chat about how it really wasn’t about the bike.
But after last night I can see why so many other people have.
Holy hell. There must be a metric shit-ton of folks who wish she’d run for office, and even more who pray she never does.
I have paid some attention to Bill Clinton, and often wish I hadn’t, especially after doing it again last night. (See Hunter S. Thompson on Mister Bill in “Better Than Sex: Confessions of a Political Junkie.”)
After watching Mister Bill polish his own idol for the better part of quite some time it was a positive relief to hear Coach Walz singing Americana a cappella. I am not and never will be a football fan, but I’m finding the Democrats’ sense of play in this go-round as refreshing as a cold beer in the cheap seats.
If you had any nagging doubts about the purpose underlying the pending mea culpa from the One Ball To Rule Them All on Soaprah, doubt no more.
Ms. Winfrey has issued a breathless bit of PR announcing that her two-and-a-half-hour chat with Ol’ Whatsisface will be aired over not one, but two evenings, this coming Thursday and Friday.
Having chatted up more than a few people over my 35 years in the news biz I can assure you that no interview is worth running in its entirety, especially when the person asking the questions has zero understanding of the matter at hand.
Were I to sit down for an interview with Paul Krugman, for example, at least 90 minutes of our chat would be devoted to me saying, “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” That sort of thing hardly makes for must-see TV. So I presume there will be more heavily perfumed fat in this chat than there is on Soaprah’s ass.
A colleague suggested via email that this “is the big moment we’ve talked about for a decade.” I replied, “No, actually, the moment I had been waiting for was seeing The One Ball To Rule Them All sitting in a courtroom, answering to another sort of inquisitor altogether. This is all Kabuki for Kash. It has less to do with justice than with illustrating the value of a white skin and a fat wallet. Had he been a brother shoplifting a 40 from 7-Eleven he’d have been doing pushups in the prison exercise yard a long time ago.”
Another colleague, the estimable Charles Pelkey, has proposed that he and I live-update the sucker as in the good old days. I had planned to take the high road and ignore the whole tawdry affair, but I’ll confess there is a certain appeal to the idea of throwing gobbets of rotten fruit, sacks of cat shit and bons mots as the tumbrel rumbles by.
Any interest out there in DogLand? Sound off in comments.
I really should avoid redistributing shit like this, but it sure beats trying to write your own comedy while recovering from the Masque of the Red Death. As the NYVelocity crowd noted via Twitter, “Oh fer chrissakes there’s another Toto outrun by reality.”
Joe Lindsey has tweeted a call for questions to be posed to TCWSNBN, and some of the offerings are worth a look. If you are of the Twitterati, look for hashtag #questionsforlance. Hell, kick in a few yourselves. Everybody dance.
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