Don't F with the O

Boy howdy do you not want to make Oprah angry.

But boy howdy does it make for some fascinating tv.

So fascinating in fact that I have spent the last hour trying to sum up my feelings about it in a way that is as interesting to read as watching the show was. And you know what? I just don't think it's possible.

But I can give you some highlights!
1. Maureen Dowd, saying something along the lines of "I hope Oprah kicks Frey's lying bony ass out of her book club." Curiously enough, the transcript on the NYT site does not note the bony ass part of Dowd's statement. Oh, she said it, all right.

2. Oprah not taking any shit from Nan Talese, publisher of the book, who kept pussyfooting around her role in all this, refusing to take responsibility. There was a Washington Post columnist -- a man -- on a little while later, and he talked out of both sides of his mouth, telling Nan Talese he didn't agree with her while simultaneously kissing her ass. He feared the Nan Talese. But Oprah fears nobody.

3. Listening to Frey try, piteously, to defend himself. O: "Did you even have two root canals, James" J: (wheedling) "Uhmmmmm." O: "Come on, James, you either had them or you didn't." J: (whining) "Well, as far as I remember it I did." The man even talks with a bit of lisp so it was more like "Ath far ath I remember it." Damn.

4.. The look on Frey's face. He was utterly destroyed. And to be honest, while I know what he did was terrible (heck, I've said as much on my blog) I felt pity for him. There, I said it. I realize he's made enough money off his book so he'll never have to work again but the man has ruined his life. He's lost his integrity, all of it, utterly. He'll never be able to buy that back with money. It's frightening to me, how astoundingly he has fucked up, because as a fellow addict (and while much of his book is a lie it is true that he's an addict) I know that you can quit the booze (or the crack or the porn or the potato chips) and still be a deeply, deeply disturbed individual. And I worry about myself.

When I was small, I'd have this nightmare where I'd wake up, get out of bed, and creep downstairs to the kitchen -- to discover the devil, cloven hooves, forked tail and all (actually looking curiously like the one from the cans of Underwood deviled ham that my mother used to make into sandwiches), frying up my parents. He'd look at me sideways and catch my eye and smile, like we knew each other, like we were thick as thieves. I'm getting a little out there with my metaphor, but that's how I feel about the addiction sometimes -- it's waiting there in the dark, and it knows me, better than I know myself. And if I'm not careful, and by careful I mean full of care, for myself and for how I live my life, it will come for me and the people I love.

Redemption is a powerful, powerful thing. What will be interesting to see is if there is any for Frey. I don't think he's a monster. I do think he got what he deserved. I hope he comes out on the other side of this a better human being than he is now.