Okay, I admit it: I’m a man, and I watch Oprah.
Okay, hold it—only once in a long while, and it’s just ’cause I’m vainly hoping, in vain, to learn a little from The Master about how to be a talk show host. A few months back, having never watched her in my life, I rented her Best Of on Netflix, and found myself crying a few times as I made my way through it over the course of a couple eves.
Then, the other night, I channel surfed past a late night rerun…and surfed back. She was devoting an entire show to “free range,” an issue dear to my heart. Here’s a video preview (her stupid web site and dumb youtube.com channel don’t offer anything more, which is tantamount to a crime—the effect she can have on giving a fair look on such a subject could be huge. On the show she interviewed farmers on both sides of the issue, as well as businessfolk and concerned citizens—a quality journalistic job from the Lady I used to think of as a better version of Donahue or Jerry Springer or whoever). Video:
hot on elephant
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