Mmm. Oprah has really been irritating my darkside over the past few years. She has built up a huge amount of influence. More influence than any one person should ever have (which has been historically shown time and again to inevitably end up being a Profoundly Bad Thing[tm])

I grant she's responsible enough to not use it maliciously (although I can name a few incidents that have been quite petty). But, she does not use it responsibly. Even the misunderstood appearance of an endorsement (or lack thereof) on her part can cause measurable tremors on national economies. (I'm thinking the beef thing, which should have been a big wake-up call for her. She learned nothing from it.)

What's damaging my calm is that my mother has been making noises like an Oprah-Zombie over the last five years or so. My mother is gullible. Oprah is credulous. She'll buy into anything at all so long as it's unscientific and sounds spiritual. And my mother will parrot it. And she won't listen to me even when I demonstrate the science. If my mother has a personal god and savior, it's name is Oprah. Like all mothers do, she's spent half her life (and nearly all of mine) tuning me out. What conscientious son could possibly function under those circumstances?

There are only three people in my life of whom I'm protective. And I'm talking adrenaline-fueled rampaging-bear protective. My mother is one of them. (My last surviving grandmother and my new goddaughter are the other two.)

I am profoundly unhappy (in the borderline-enraged sense) that Oprah has her woo-claws embedded in my mother's life.

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. o O ( "Quote that 'Blazing Saddles' scene at Mike, and the BAUTer gets it! " )