BlogWonks

By Bernard Chapin

Today’s episode was split, and the first half featured an interview with glamorous pop star, Beyonce. She is the poetic genius behind hits like, “Jumpin Jumpin,” “Bootylicious,” “Nasty Girl,” and “Independent Women.” Yet fashion, not music, was the focus.

Oprah began by questioning her guest about the apparel she wears to big time galas. Gigantic pictures of Beyonce were projected on a wall beyond the stage as they spoke. The diva shared tales of gowns, paparazzi, and material while the audience oohed at the appropriate junctures. Her mother was then brought forth. It quickly became apparent that the reason they were there was to promote their new clothing line. A not so impromptu fashion show commenced. Models and catwalks appeared. The last two models in the rotation were her former band mates from Destiny’s Child. To my untrained eye, the new spring line appears to have Daisy Duke, Victoria’s Secret, and Walton Family influences.

Oprah proceeded to pull a Mike Wallace and asked the questions all us soul searching types wanted to know like, “What do you splurge on?” From there, it shifted to the controversial subject of jeans. I hit the record button, there no way was I going to let this heady stuff slip through the memory hole. Beyonce has the amount already set for her jeans. They start at the “very reasonable” price of $118.00. The topic seemed to titillate Oprah. She loved the fact that these jeans were for women with “boo-tay.” Oprah warned her constituency though, the “Size 29s,” that they should not wear these revealing clothes out and about. She laughed heartily. In her present day skinny state, I hope that no charges of fatism are levied against her. To further heighten the fashion induced euphoria, Oprah gave to the audience a gift of free jeans. The crowd went gaga. Jealousy overtook me.

Of course we all know that Woman cannot live by couture alone. The great entrepreneur then turned to mother and daughter, and asked Beyonce to tell the world what her mom meant to her.

Lights, Camera, EMOTION!

Ms. Knowles proceeded to state that her mother was the best one in the entire world while the audience hummed its approval. Tears flowed from both guests. It was a stirring moment…provided you’re a total idiot.

I do have to admit that there was one redeeming element to the segment, however, as Oprah actually admitted, “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a mother figure.” I couldn’t agree more. Now when will American mothers get with the program and turn her off?

The second segment was an infomercial for her new play based on The Color Purple. It’s headed for Broadway, and guess who’s producing it? That’s right, Oprah, the fatcat billionaire down the street from me. The camera framed Quincy Jones who sat expressionlessly in the audience as Oprah went on and on about her experiences on the set of the film. Apparently, reading the book changed her life, and, unbelievably, she was lucky enough to land a part in the film. She then let roll a clip from the film centering on, you guessed it, her character. While it ran, audience members repeated her lines word for word, as did Oprah. Then, to further illustrate the way she changes lives, she showed a clip of white man paying homage to her in Texas. It seems that years ago the fellow spontaneously decided to recite her movie speech in answer to a question on her show. The irony is that the clip features an Oprah physiologically incompatible with the lean, mileage free machine we have before us everyday at 11 pm.

Apparently, shameless self-adulation from both speech and film was not enough for her. The host got out a diary she kept while working on the shoot. Oprah read from it and exclaimed, “Everything from ‘The Color Purple’ feels like love to me.” What does such a clichéd claptrap sentence mean? Nothing. How anyone can be influenced by such a person is beyond my comprehension. The more familiar with her I become, the more I regard her bravado and attitude as being a function of pervasive insecurity and unintelligence. She keeps the playing field forever imbalanced by contaminating it with hackneyed emotion and sentimental schlock. Without it, she’d be just another person who liked to hear her own voice.

Just when one couldn’t think the narcissism could be projected any more flamboyantly, Oprah decided to surprise the cast from “The Color Purple” musical with her presence; a cast which is subordinate to her. They greeted her in a manner similar to the way Lincoln must have been received in Richmond by the freedmen. She decided not to mention the clear-cut conflict of interest that she, as its producer, had, and went on to encourage the studio audience to go out and see her “Broadway baby.” Then, the cast appeared so they could enact her favorite scene. Yes, the same scene we already saw on film except this time twenty women were a part of it. They danced around urging that “Hell No” should be the response when any man tries to touch them in a threatening manner. “Hell No” was sung and repeated endlessly. It was an artistic low matched only by soap operas. One woman even had a shotgun with her to defend against men—hey, I thought violence never solved anything?

We find that Oprah views “The Color Purple” as being divine. Why? Because she is a representative of the divine on earth and she thinks that it is so there’s little to discuss about the topic. Obviously, this is preposterous though. To pretend that “The Color Purple,” as a film, has the value of “The Godfather or “A Room with a View” is a non-sequitur. It can’t even stand up to the likes of “Spies like Us” let alone any of the grand cinemagraphic monuments. Recall what the mind of its author, Alice Walker, is like. She is a writer completely unfamiliar with human nature. Despite the shotgun display in the aforementioned musical segment, she believes that the following approach would work best with Osama Bin Laden:

But what would happen to his cool armor if he could be reminded of all

the good, nonviolent things he has done? Further, what would happen to

him if he could be brought to understand the preciousness of the lives he

has destroyed? I firmly believe the only punishment that works is love.

What would this country be like if people like Walker had political power? Quite honestly, they already do in certain locales. Should a few more get elected, her kind won’t have a nation to criticize for much longer.

The show ended with everyone singing the theme song from “The Color Purple.” The camera panned to Oprah. She was crying as she sang just as if the media refused to cover a trip to Hermes. Honestly, this program is so contrived and heavy-handed that I wouldn’t have been surprised if credits for the “Jew Suss” rolled at the end.

That Oprah is a megalomaniac is presumed, but that she is scamming her gullible audience appears undeniable. In her life she has caused considerable damage to her followers as a result of peddling what “feels good” rather than what is true, but here we must add economic exploitation to her long list of malpractices. All of this leads me to an important question. If women are so easily fooled by this self-serving charlatan, then why do we as a society pretend that women have superior intuition to men? Don’t expect an answer anytime soon.

Today I’m going to have to add a new subscale to our measurements.

Corruption Index: 10—Boss Tweed has entered the building.

Castration Index: 5—Honestly, I’d give the first half hour a zero. The Beyonce segment was fine. The second half was a musical advertisement for sisters to band together against the horror of men—inspired, that’s right, by a work by a lesbian.

Irresponsibilty Index: 0—It just wasn’t an issue.

“It’s all about me” Scale: 10—Well, it was all about Oprah, but, as far as women in general go, it was pretty much your standard, “embrace the meaningless, frivolous things in life” production.

Pity Promenade: 0—Emotion Promenade? Yes. Pity? No.

OVERALL RATING=25.

Wow, a lower offensiveness rating; credit Beyone for the happy result. In the words of Sarah McLachlan, we’re “building a mystery.” As for tomorrow, yes, more hell will follow.

Watching Oprah: My Venture to Hell (Part I)
Bernard Chapin is a writer living in Chicago. Contact him at veritaseducation@gmail.com. His new book, Escape from Gangsta Island, is now available.