It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
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~ Charles Dickens, "A Tale of Two Cities" (1859)
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The only difference between a good person and a bad person is which way they turn their passions.
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~ Bishop T.D. Jakes
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In today's column, I would like to revisit the issue of celebrity and its myriad of seductive, intoxicating qualities. I wrote on this subject a few months ago in the column "Ira Einhorn, Al Gore and the cult of celebrity." Today's subjects, however, are TV talk-show host and media demigod Oprah Winfrey and former pro football player and actor O.J. ("The Juice") Simpson.
Why these two people, you may ask? Like many of my subjects, I have mused about them for many years; studying these people in detail and probing profound questions and predilections of human nature that made them the people they are today and shaped the impact they have on today's society and culture. Also, both of these icons are very interesting people that often generate front page news at will.
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Several months ago, Oprah dramatically broke with her own personal apolitical tradition and publicly endorsed Sen. Barack Obama on her TV show. When asked why, she stated quite bluntly that until Obama's candidacy she never had a politician she felt excited about supporting. Three weeks ago, Oprah furthered her support for Obama by hosting a lavish political fundraising party that raised over $3 million for his presidential campaign at her gorgeous Italian Renaissance Revival mansion in Montecito, Calif. It is on that party I want to focus the majority of my analysis – a case study into the mind of Oprah.
First of all, what struck me negatively about that party was the Orwellian controls and bureaucratic strictures Oprah dictated on how the party would be organized:
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- Admission = $2,300 (no poor-people subsidy for this event);
- No, you can't use my bathroom! You can't even come into my house. The party will be outdoors under tents;
- No cameras, no camera phones, no media coverage, no recording devices of any kind. To make sure this rule is enforced, all "guests" will be thoroughly searched;
- No, you can't drive your own car to my house. You must park eight miles away and be shuttled to my house by bus (now that's class all the way!);
- Although everyone paid the same "contribution," all partygoers are not equal. The real big names, like movie moguls David Geffen and Jeffrey Katzenberg, and actors Halle Berry, Will Smith and Jamie Foxx, will be with Oprah and the guest of honor at a certain area of her yard where one will have the privilege of mingling with Queen Oprah and her anointed squire. Burly bodyguards will enforce this segregation rule. (In India, they call this the caste system).
Well, dear reader, you may say, "It's Oprah's house! She can organize the party any way she pleases." I would reply, you are right, but herein lies the seductive, intoxicating qualities of human nature that I wish to further explore regarding Queen Oprah.
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First, she has made her career boasting of her work in "helping the poor," "the needy," "the powerless," "the disenfranchised." Why weren't some of these poor people invited to the party? Second, if I'm paying $2,300 to come to Oprah's house, then doggone it, when I get there, I'm going inside Oprah's house. I'm not standing in her backyard like a bunch of barnyard animals. Third, coming to this party is a chance of a lifetime. You mean to tell me I can't do any of the normal things a person would want to do to memorialize this event? – roll up to the front door in my fresh C-Class Benz spinning on 22s, take a couple of pictures of my wife and me at the party (to prove that we were actually there), mix and mingle with all the Hollywood big shots, etc. No, no, no ... not at Oprah's house.
Queen Oprah, that Sistergirl Freud without the credentials, that darling of mainstream liberalism, that Queen of the Soccer Moms, has created a repressive, smothering, virtual Orwellian environment at her home, where spontaneity, freedom, liberty and a good time has been left in the parking lot eight miles away.
He's baaaack! Just when you thought we were through with O.J. Simpson, the double murderer who was convicted in the civil trial and ordered by a judge to pay $33.5 million in restitution damages to the Brown and Goldman families, he has forced himself into our lives once again. This time, O.J. and his makeshift posse of burly thugs The Juice calls "my bitches" on Sept. 13 took the law into their own hands, entered a Vegas hotel room and at gunpoint took memorabilia back from two sports artifacts dealers O.J. claims stole it from him. For the record, he also stole several other items that had nothing to do with the now imprisoned ex-football star, ex-movie actor ... ex-murder.
O.J. is a psychiatrist's wet dream. He belongs on Oprah's couch with that Hollywood nitwit, Tom Cruise. O.J. has all the obvious best and worst traits of the human condition. We all remember in 1968 when he won the Heisman Trophy, we remember the NFL records he broke, the funny movies, the entertaining commercials, but ... there is always a "but."
But we didn't see O.J. behind the scenes. We didn't see O.J., the violent man, the control freak that frequently ranted and raved like a neurotic lunatic. But we did catch a glimpse of the real O.J. caught on tape a few days ago and played to the world on TMZ.com where he and his thugs blatantly and wantonly committed armed robbery (allegedly) at a Las Vegas hotel. Simpson later quipped, "I thought what happened in Vegas, stays in Vegas!" No, O.J., it's "People who commit idiotic crimes in Vegas, go to prison in Vegas."
In summary, I wanted to illustrate through the lives of Oprah and O.J. how very talented, creative people can become dictatorial, oppressive, controlling and hypocritical (Oprah), as well as affable, enigmatic and murderous (O.J.). Human nature is very complex and awesome – we can be Nimrod, Jezebel, Brutus, Hitler, Joe Kennedy as well as David, Galileo, Einstein, MLK or Mother Teresa. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle.
Bishop T.D. Jakes was right on point when he said, "The only difference between a good person and a bad person is which way they turn their passions." Likewise, Charles Dickens indelibly shows us the paradox of human nature in one of the greatest lines in all of English literature when he wrote, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
To Oprah: Lighten up, get a real boyfriend that can become your husband. (Stedman Graham is a replica. He is a black version of a blond bimbo). Adopt three or four children to teach yourself not to be so childish, self-absorbed and narcissistic. Retire from being "Queen Oprah" and become a normal, regular soccer mom like your legions of loyal fans that made you the idol you are today. To O.J.: All I can tell you, man, is sic sempre tyrannus (thus to all tyrants) and ... don't drop the soap!
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