Monday, January 30, 2006

I'll Have a Grilled Writer with a Salad, Please

Oprah's BBQ for James Frey


Dear James,

James Frey, oh James! You are my hero! You put the "ME" in "MEmoir."

In a world that has nothing left to say, we are all guilty of using reality for our own benefit. Have you watched TV lately? It's all about "reality" ... Survivor, American Idol, Biggest Loser ... oh and THAT'S not embellished? What about Project Runway (aka Project run ... AWAY) that's SO embellished, it's even sewn at the hem, with sequins! What about five gay guys doing a fashion intervention on a fat shmuck living in New Jersey? Oh, that's something I'd swear on in court, right hand over bible "nothing but the truth," let me tell you (provided said bible was bound in imported Italian leather and designed by Donna Karan). What about Wolf Blitzer's "Situation Room" ... as if THAT'S not embellished? (Wolf, why don't you do the naked newscaster shtick? Would just LOVE to see you in fishnet stockings whipping Jack Cafferty's ass.)

We live in a country where the former blow-job coveting, cigar-smoking President redefined "sex" as we know it. We live in a country where our current leader can't conjugate a verb correctly. And so I must wonder, who gives a crap if some ex-addict writes a book that people enjoy reading. Hey, at least people who don't normally "read" anything other than sign posts ARE reading! (Let's not even get into the fact that most of the population does not speak or read English ... but that's another rant entirely.)

No, you bad boy you (Oprah was right to bitch-slap you on the wrist), but James, you silly ex-addict, all you needed to do was add a disclaimer page. Five simple words: "based on a true story."

I am torn between the Frey-Oprah battle. It would've been much more entertaining to see both of you mud wrestling. (Oprah wearing her bling and Manolo Blaniks, of course.)

James, I do have a soft spot in my heart for you. If I've ever seen a glazed-over expression that said: "God, I need a drink" you pulled it off brilliantly. But you can't walk in the cold Chicago wind to the local watering hole. Now THAT'S sad. And THAT'S reality. Hard, cold alcohol-free REALITY.

Oh, and there's genocide, war, plagues -- just to name a few crises that burden humanity. As well, our planet is multi-tasking natural disasters. Earthquake here. Tsunami there. Hurricane on the side.

James, consider yourself lucky to be a writer with so much negative publicity!

You'll survive this.

With love,

Manola B

(Dear Readers, in case you are wondering: there is NOTHING embellished on this blog. EVERYTHING I say is absolutely true. South Beach is the Bermuda Triangle of "reality" material. Trust me.)

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