Some of you really heed Oprah Winfrey, don't you? The same women who find the anger of a homily disabled woman intimidating, flock to a former beauty queen, well past her heyday as she is, because she is a prominent, vivacious television personality who provides so many points of self-recognition. Being a shadow Empress, it seems to spastic, has gone to her head, if her onslaught of Weight Watchers commercials is any indicator. Howard Stern used to have fun with her super-laden domesticity, and The New Republic published a rather deft, nuanced critique of her strange genius, before the rich gay boy who got lucky took over the publication, and I wrote said deft and nuanced contributor when still an active subscriber, paid deft contributor a compliment before subordinating a clause, which I remember, "but she's a television host."
Which for me about sums it up, not denying her talent, even her occasional bouts of self-depreciation, and her vulnerability with her sycophants. But to pass herself off as almost a contemporary transcendentalist has a repulsive quality to it. She is the prototype of the African American matriarchal female who may be able to defy her age, and be wealthy enough not to die of Natalie Cole's health problems, but her affluence can only do so much with biological reality, although it can do wonders for a group dynamic which apparently sees fit to dispense with the ability to think for itself, or still views her as a trend indicator.
There is no such thing as a best body for a woman who tends to be thick. Obesity is what it wants to be in some cases, and she is as much engaging in a game of delusion with her own celebrity as she has accused some of her audience in the past of "playing games" with their health. If she fails with this investment we'll all be better of, sadly stupendous as it is.
Since I find her narcissistic evocations discouraging, I'll close the book, nostrils flayed, and never open it again unless for some reason, she provides proximate cause.
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