Monday, December 29, 2008

The Lie I Would Tell Oprah

I see in the news today that Opera, that gullible TV personality who will interview anyone with a tall tale (in order to add further to the glory of the mountain of gold on which she keeps her lair) has once again fallen for a lie, this time about a fabricated story of love found in the Nazi concentration camps. Herman Rosenblat's memoir will not be published.

Oprah has fallen for lies before. She was fooled by James Frey's alleged memoir "A Million Little Pieces," in September of 2005. She was also fooled by Tom Cruise who professed his love for a WOMAN and jumped up and down on Opera's couch, which as everyone knows, is made from the skin of all those she has stepped on to build her media empire. And I assume that everyone assumes that Tom Cruise loves only himself.

I would like to lie to Oprah as well. Given the opportunity to appear on her show, I am willing to tell her I was born during a high-speed chase after a bank robbery, which my parents only took part in because they were forced to pay ransom to release my mother's parents, who were scientists at Los Alamos Atomic Research Laboratory during the height of the cold war. The government denied my grandparents' existence, so it was impossible to get the police to help gain their release. Forced to rob banks to raise the 1 million dollar ransom, I was delivered in the back of a getaway car by a sympathetic nun who accompanied my parents during these bank heists of 1965-66, acting as a getaway car driver, lookout, and wise confidant during their adventures. (My parents' crime spree inspired Steve Miller to write "Take the Money and Run", one of his better known hits.)

My parents were brutally gunned down in Las Vegas by Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley (both at the time employed secretly by the FBI) after a failed heist at the Bellagio. The nun, able to escape, hid me in an abandoned Japanese internment camp, where I was raised by wolves. That nun would eventually move on to become Phyllis Diller.

The wolves taught me how to play croquette, disarm bombs, seduce women, and whittle. The Wise old Pack Leader taught me to read using a single copy of a 1944 Sears catalog.

At the age of eighteen, as is wolf custom, I was cast out into the wild, where I was taken in by a band of gypsies who toured the nation following bands like Quiet Riot and Ratt. They would take advantage of stoned teenagers by telling their fortunes and selling them mushrooms. It was here that I met and fell in love with the woman who would take my virginity and cast me aside, Jamie Lee Curtis. If you pay close attention, I am an extra in the restaurant scene in the 1988 movie "A Fish Called Wanda".

That is the lie I will tell Oprah. She will believe it, because after years of lounging on mountains of gold bullion, she has been enfeebled. Many of those golden bars are simply lead bars painted to look like gold bars. (Stedman is routinely beaten if her glory does not increase each day.) Exposure to lead has completely destroyed Oprah's incredulity gland, which as everyone knows, is located just to the left of the hippocampus in the medial temporal lobe of the brain.

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I am the author of 5 books: Android Down, Firewood for Cannibals, The Cubicles of Madness, Robot Stories, and most recently, Various Meats and Cheeses. I live and write in Michigan. My website is at

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