(I got some dirt on you doggy!)
Oprah is what she is. A supreme god-like being who racially confuses millions of women each day across America.
She's got black women thinking they're white and white women thinking they're black. It's great.
Who else has white folk learning about Zora Neale Hurston and "Down Low brothers" and black folk watching Tom Cruise and John Travolta act like they like black people?
No one. Oprah's got the game on lock.
So when it was revealed that author James Frey, whose book was made famous by Oprah's Book Club, fabricated events in his life for his memoir, "A Million Little Pieces" everyone wondered what Oprah would do.
She made the initial bitch move of defending Frey by saying, "the underlying message of redemption still resonates with her." The world sighed.
Then something happened. Oprah flipped and dragged Frey back on her show to brand him with the Scarlet L.
Watch clips of it in all is ooey-gooey goodness here and here. Or download it here.
Watching this was particularly gratifying for me because I hate the modern memoir so very much.
Too often, they are whiny and self-pitying treacle with the sole purpose of out-sorrowing the last week's memoir.
Even Elie Weisel, who survived the Holocaust, yes the capital H Holocaust, had the modesty to publish his life story as a novel instead of a memoir.
Also, its fun to watch him squirm and be embarassed.
Although The Smoking Gun did the dirty work, Oprah Winfrey did the public soul-searching, as she realized she didn't like being lied to, and the eventual national shaming.
Oprah Winfrey, for your cathartic and public repudiation of lies and liars in this age of truthiness, subjective reality and penalty-free dishonesty, you are the Snitch of the Week.