Monday, February 15, 2010

$250 Million Sure Doesn't Buy What it Used To

I had another topic or two in the works for today, but those plans changed once I caught wind of this Oprah debacle where she thought Drew Brees' birthmark was lipstick on his face. If we really wanted to, NotAsGoodAsYouThink could write litanies for about a month straight regarding Oprah and why she sucks. But since I thought this was a fairly universal belief among those with a Y chromosome, I figured I'd hold back on making fun of Oprah and let the talking be done by the likes of Dave Chappelle and Jimmy Kimmel. Until now.

This was too good (or bad) to pass up. Not only does it tie in with my disdain for the Super Bowl crossing over into mainstream media , it lets me take a few shots at a howling windbag while going to bat for one of the most likable guys in the NFL and maybe in all of professional sports. So Oprah, you decide to have the Super Bowl MVP as a guest on your show. OK, that's understandable, since he was probably the biggest name in the news last week thanks to an historic 32-of-39 performance and the ensuing "awwwwwwwwww" moment during the celebration. You're telling me that you have not bothered to take a look at a picture of the guy, or do a little background research on his life? Brees' birthmark has been a well-documented piece of information for about a decade now, ever since he entered the spotlight while at Purdue. Maybe if you had spent 8-10 fewer minutes eating Twinkies and done just a little bit more preparation, you could have saved yourself that tidbit of embarrassment, Ms. Winfrey.

Maybe one day someone can sit me down and explain why so many people fawn over Oprah and make pilgrimages to see live tapings (oxymoron?) of her show. All I know is that she is the face of the mind-numbing entertainment that we like to call daytime television. I can't go three weeks without seeing her on the cover of some women's magazine in the checkout aisle of the food store, usually alternating between story lines of "Oprah: I'm Thin Again!" and "Oprah: I Can't Believe I Got Fat Again!" Now I'm sure she's produced plenty of quality programming in her day (mostly tear-jerking stories aimed at those with marginal control over their emotions, those times when she gives everyone in the studio a car, and Brownie of the Month Club meetings). But everyone's got to go at some point. So please Oprah, pack it in. Just think of all the extra free time you'd have to go restaurant-hopping with Kirstie Alley.

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