The Prince Of Darkness Puts On A Luncheon
For a moment or two on Saturday I was fearful that I had shuffled off this mortal coil and ended up on the wrong side of the afterlife. What other explanation could there be for the C-Span sponsored Book TV presentation of the L.A. Book Expo's Author Luncheon that I was watching other than that I had been cast into the infernal fires of damnation?
To begin with the luncheon was hosted by former Congresswoman Pat Schroeder who seems to have that disturbing smile painted on her face. Her opening remarks were jumbled and barley articulate. Nervous teenagers in Speech 101 classes have better delivery and diction than Pat.
She finally managed to introduce the three authors who would be speaking at the luncheon.
Self obsessed, arrogant, bully boy Bill O'Reilly (if you don't believe my description check out his personal web site where you can be treated to pictures of such things as the hallway that Bill walks down, the desk Bill sits at, and the computer than Bill uses. I half expected to see a shot of the toilet where Bill performs his daily bowel movement and for members only a picture of the stool that Bill crapped out.) who has apparently cranked out another book to shill at every available opportunity, this one called 'Who's Looking Out For You?'. Let me me guess Bill the answer is you right? Bill appeared to be trying to bring back the Don Johnson inspired jacket with t-shirt look which served as a visual reminder of just what a pompous jackass O'Reilly really is.
Smug, always smirkin' Al Franken who also has a new book called 'Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right'. Will the witty titles never stop? Please Al you're killing me. I mean I'm already laughing and I haven't even opened the book yet. Seriously though do people really believe that Franken is funny? The last time I found him amusing in any manner was in 1983's ''Trading Places' in his memorable role as Baggage Handler #1.
Finally to round out (no pun intended) the panel how about one of worst columnists in America, who's looking more and more these days like Drew Carrey in drag, Molly Ivins? Molly too has a new work coming out and surprise, surprise it's an attack on President Bush called 'Bushwhacked'. Again with the witty titles.
If this lineup wasn't a punishment for the damned than I don't know what is. Barring a possible substitution of Rosie O'Donnell can you imagine a less appealing collection of personalities?
But much to my relief the event turned out to be far more enjoyable than I had thought possible. Only a few moments in I realized that I had avoided the pits of Hades and was very much still among the living. And I was suddenly loving life.
My perspective on the nasty scrap between O'Reilly and Franken was akin to Truman's on the Nazi-Soviet fighting in 1941 ("If we see that Germany is winning the war, we ought to help the Russians, and if Russia is winning we ought to help Germany and in that way let them kill as many as possible.") in that I welcomed any damage inflicted on either participant.
But the true highlight for me (and no doubt lowlight for those unfortunate souls in attendance at the luncheon) was Molly's speech. For you see Molly bombed. Bombed badly. Horrendously. If I had any reserves of sympathy available for her (I don't) I would actually have felt pity. Instead I was cackling uproariously and slapping my knees like Mr. Burns watching Itchy butcher Scratchy like a hog ("Is all TV this wonderful?"). It was a beautifully brutal public failure by one of our country's poorest excuses for a writer.
I think the problem was that Molly speaks like she writes. Rambling, incoherent, babble that begins, goes, and ends nowhere. Somewhere along the line she might have a had a point to the whole thing but I (and the audience for that matter) was left completely in the dark as to what it was. Oh she tried to throw in some of that phony corn spun down home humor that's she's infamous for but every punch line was greeted not with laughter but merely the clanking of silverware on china as the audience tried hard to concentrate on the chicken cordon bleu on their plates and ignore Molly's pathetic performance. When you bomb at a luncheon you don't just get silence (or crickets chirping). You get the sounds of the audience going about the business of eating. Cutting up their meat. Stirring some sugar into their coffee. Asking the wait staff for a refill on their water. There is no hiding the fact that you're bombing as Molly clearly realized only minutes into her debacle.
And it wasn't as if it was a hostile crowd. When Pat Schroeder was giving her intro and delivering a shot or two at GW most of the audience was lapping it up. They wanted to hear Molly speak. They wanted to laugh and even cheer if appropriate. She completely failed to deliver anything they could react to. The priceless shots of the faces in the audience showed equal parts boredom, disappointment, and apathy.
Early on she stated that instead of a Dow Jones Average we needed a Doug Jones Average. No, she wasn't talking about former Indians pitcher Doug Jones (lifetime batting average .111) she was trying to use Doug Jones to represent the common man. I know, it didn't work with the luncheon crowd either. I can't recall too many other details from her speech and unfortunately transcripts are not available. She did mention the story of a rancher in the West whose stream was supposedly poisoned by a corporation and how all the rabbits on his ranch turned green. All Bush's fault of course and yes that's how bizarre and disconnected from reality her little talk was. When she finally wrapped it up with a typically classy Ivins remark about just how badly "screwed" ol' Doug Jones was going to be because of the evils of the Bush administration you could actually see and hear a collective sigh of relief go up from the audience followed by a smattering of polite applause and murmurs of, "Thank God that's over with". And that came from the non-believers in the crowd. Just like in a foxhole there is no such thing as an atheist at a Molly Ivins speech.
It was then that I realized that, rather than being in hell, watching Molly flop like the latest Al Gore book was instead quite a heavenly experience for me.
