SIGNS OF THE APOCALYPSE

Back when I was a retired social worker, I spent a lot of time watching the talk shows. I started my day off with coffee and Jerry Springer, back when Jerry had awesome guests like "incestuous klan members who wear diapers and have sex with colored women while their wives masturbated to posters of dolomite in the barn...burning with pleasure AND shame".
It was awesome...it was rabid. The spring-o-nator was on top of the game. After the show I would mosey on over to the computer and log on to the forums and "discuss" the show I had just watched. It was an IM version of the show, and it was fun to bait the other members of the forum.
Then it was over to court TV to catch the latest in the OJ travesty I mean trial. That motherfucker was/is so obviously guilty. He's still looking for the real killer (s), I even got in on the hunt for awhile and guess what? He did it, and he got away with it. He wasn't looking for anything beyond shaving some points off his golf score and figuring out a way to resurrect his endorsement career. Ginsu Inc. approached him I heard, but he wisely declined, waiting on an offer from ping golf...something about a slice option.
But enough about that. After catching up with the Cochran wave of bullshit, I would tune into Jenny Jones, Ricki Lake and all those other folks trying (at the time) to out springer springer. It couldn't be done. He was the king.
And then there was Oprah...She's fat! She's thin! She's fat again. But mostly she was what I reluctantly call "high brow" talk show circa mid 90's...I mean she had the book club. She had minor to mid level celebrities coming on her show to discuss subjects as varied as parental abuse and drug addiction, and incest and parental abuse and the book they wrote about it. People cried, guests cried, Oprah cried while listing off the options to contact her club to purchase signed copies of these books, but compared to springer, it was mundane...it was too tame. But it was sinister in a way that the control she had/has over her audience made me nauseous.
That was then.
Lately, I have been listening to springer again, on air america radio. He's a serious commentator now. Gone are the transexual white trash brawls. I always believed he was smart, and I knew he was politically astute. He played the trash card and made a shitload of money, and now he is one of the voices of liberal america.
But what of Oprah? I haven't followed her beyond seeing alternate images of her on the tabloids in the check out line at the third world. It seems that she has retained her ability to gain and lose weight to the tune of 50 plus pounds a week. I remember the deal when she gave everyone in the audience a new car, only to fuck them with the taxes on those "free" cars. But beyond that, I'm not so much into the cult that is Oprah.
But yesterday I saw a commercial for todays episode, and I thought to myself, " Self...Oprah's going for the Springer factor with this one".
Here's the set up: 7 married guys sit in the round with Oprah and discuss how they have been cheating on their wives. Meanwhile, the wives are in the green room watching their respective husbands fess up on closed circuit TV monitors. The second half of the show Queen O brings them all together and demands that the men fess up.
Why? The wives already heard it. Imagine being one of those wives and hearing " My mistress dyed her pubic hair neopolitan, and while I gave her head she whistled "Ice cream man" and played hot rod gear shift with my unit". Or even it if was the tried and true " I hooked up with that crack whore/ hooker because my wife wouldn't wear a ball gag while I poked it in her ear, Secretia was willing to do that. She fufilled me in ways my wife wouldn't, and besides...crack is cheap". And then Oprah would admonish " who do you really love"?! "Admit it"!!! And the husband would sheepishly respond, " I love my wife Oprah, but I'd love her a lot more if she would wear a ball gag and let me engage in a little ear sex", and then start sobbing. The wife would then leap to her feet, charge across the stage and clothesline the husband out of his chair screaming something incomprehensible, but thanks to closed captioning we know she agreed to wear the crotchless teddy even though it demeaned her and caused her bulemia and the affair with the pool guy. Now that's quality talk.
Not. But it is entertaining.
And a clear sign that the planets are in need of alignment.
Now if you'll excuse me, there's a Montel rerun I need to catch on the WB.