Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Welcome to Ottawa: The Grand Ole Oprah


I'm not sure who is more excited to see Oprah -- Graham Richardson or Jim Watson.

They were both gushing about her on the news yesterday.

Our metrosexual mayor was even proudly showing off a Sens jersey with a big O on it. Looked like a big fat zero to me.

The stories in the media are completely over the top this morning. Twitter is, well, atwitter, with news that a group of "foreskin" activists are planning to protest her visit because at one point, she supported a cosmetic company that used baby foreskins to create cosmetics. Ewww. This story appears to be somewhat bogus. While the company has admitted that baby penis cast off cells were used in the original research, it states in a press release that it does not use them in the cream itself.

They were being used as some kind of plumping agent, perhaps.


I'm not too concerned about this story, as I am Pro foreskin removal. I had both my boys' chopped off.

I have no use for foreskin. A boy looks much better with a crew instead of a turtle.

I'm not against using foreskin for female enhancement cream. I mean, the boys don't need it anymore, do they?

I am thinking that our local media is a gigantic embarrassment. It's one thing to be all over the Queen or Princess Kate. It's a whole other thing to be trying to suck the toes of Oprah Winfrey. She's a fucking talk show host. Yes, she is beloved. Even I, the local cynic, have the Oprah Winfrey Network on speed remote. I don't watch the motivational shit. I just like her interviews. She gets good guests and she's a great interviewer.

If I were the local media, I'd be wanting to ask Ms. O about the kerfuffle over her licence to print money in Canada. Apparently, the CRTC, that protector of all things Canadian -- except perhaps the dastardly Sun News Channel -- has slapped Winfrey on her delicate wrists for lying to the regulator to get a licence. According to the CRTC, Corus, which runs OWN in Canada, got the licence under false pretenses. OWN promised to chock-a-block its programming with educational and instructional shows.

Instead we're getting Welcome to Sweetie Pies, Grocery Bags, Iyanla Van Zant and reruns of the Grand Ole Oprah. The CRTC has threatened to yank the OWN licence if the educational programming doesn't miraculously show up in a couple of months. Meanwhile, OWN is promoting a show about LeToya Jackson's quest for a husband.

Starring Joe Fucking Jackson.

The mind boggles.

I'm sure we won't hear about the controversy. We wouldn't want to ruffle her Spanx.

Besides, the local media will be too busy scarfing canapes at the Brookstreet Hotel, covering entitled rich white women who are having an Oprah lovefest, listening to motivational speakers and comparing swatches. And the tv local hair and teeth will be lining up to blubber something ridiculous.

Ms.Winfrey, I used to watch your show with my mother, God rest her soul. Oprah, I have all first editions from your book club. Oprah, what's Tom Hanks like? Oprah, can we be besties? Oprah, do you think I can have my own show on OWN?

I'm sure Carole Anne Meehan will ask say something provocative, as she does every time she's without a script. Did you see her promo on television where she says she loves CHEO because "you can feel the love irradiating from the place?"

I digress.

The laugh will be on the crowd. I hear that this Oprah event, which has been held out west a few times, is a big snorefest. There's no Dr. Oz, Dr. Phil or Suze Orman.

Not even the ridiculous Gayle King.

Just Oprah, flanked by her cocker spaniel, telling the crowd "what I know for sure".

Bow your heads, ladies. Bathe in her aura.

Don't expect any Favorite Things, either, unless you want to pay for them at the concession stand.

I hope the event is worth three hundred beans.

I can get the Oprah Winfrey Network for a buck on Bell Fibe.

At least until the CRTC shuts it down for non-compliance.


No comments:

Post a Comment