Oprah, Oprah, Oprah. You little phony.
I stopped watching you years ago when it dawned on me that with all of your self-help books and worship of anyone famous, you were indeed an empty shell of a woman.
You keep searching for yourself through the words of others. Each new self-help author becomes your guru. Each new diet your enthusiastic solution to obesity. Like the rest of us mortals, you gain it all back again and again, despite having cooks, shoppers, servers and famous exercise specialists.
You worship at the altar of Maya Angelou, who is a master of artfully stating the obvious.
I watched your Legends Ball, which was intended to inspire young Black women to greatness by showing them greatness. It was all singers and actresses. Where was Ms. Rice, our Secretary of State? Where were the judges, professors, astronomers, doctors, scientists and real writers? What were you thinking?
Therefore, it came as no surprise when you threw your support behind Obama, another guru who fills the air with words that mean nothing; who is full of Hitlerian pomp and circumstance with his Wagnerian rock bands to whip up the crowds and Hessian cardboard pillars to make him look like SOMEBODY. (Too many "ians" but it's hard to resist such a ripe opportunity.)
This is something that would, predictably, impress you. Bring you to tears, no less!
But your core support is middle-aged white women, and I think you shot yourself in the foot when you had Obama so enthusiastically on your show not once, but twice, and then declared your show to be politically off-limits when it came to Governor Palin.
It must have been quite a shock when Sarah bested you in the most admired poll.
I think it's time to retire, Oprah. Please.

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