Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Tuesday Twat(s)No. 81. Larry King (and mini-me Anderson Cooper).
Larry King, despite rarely darkening UK screens, was known to me before I crossed the Atlantic. I knew of him as the Daddy of US chatshow hosts. He's interviewed every US President since Abe Lincoln, is rarely turned down for an interview, is watched and loved by millions of Americans every night - and was impersonated in Gremlins 2.
Since moving here, I often find my TV tuned to CNN. Sure they aren't nearly as good as the BBC, but unfortunately BBC World is a rather stripped down affair compared to BBC24, with news bulletins every half hour and a seemingly endless parade of worthy but dull documentaries on life as a gay woman in Uttar Pradesh.
Every week night, Larry King puts on his bowtie and suspenders (note to UK readers - North Americans refer to braces as suspenders - at least until I tell them that suspenders are pantyhose in the UK...) leans over his desk, and asks inane questions for an hour, interupted only by commercials every 6 minutes and the always breathless Anderson Cooper plugging his own show immediately afterwards.
Now I realise it is a bit much to expect a President or former President, or even a Presidential hopefull every night, but I have to say the old boy really scrapes the barrell sometimes. For example 3 weeks ago he basically gave over his show to American Idol. He spent the entire night (for several nights in a row) "interviewing" former Idol runner ups asking if they thought Simon Cowell was a big fat meanie and then extending the 15 minutes of fame of the Muppet rejects who were canny enough to get featured in the show and bag themselves an agent. I suppose the only interesting thing to be garnered from the interview was the dizzy blonde former contestant who cheerfully (and perhaps a little too candidly) explained the intimate details of how Idol actually works. I.E you go through 3 rounds of auditions before meeting the judges, so that only the great and the freaky get through; that you sign a contract giving the producers the right to take the piss royally ad infinitum; that they own yo sorry ass.
Basically, King will give any one who wants it, 15 minutes or more of airtime. If you are a bullshit artist like Deepak Chopra, you get even more.
Last week, however, it became nasty.
On the Tuesday, news broke that an Astronaut had completely flipped, allegedly driven 1000miles in a nappy and confronted her love rival. Despite there being no information of any note at all, every rent a shrink near a cell phone was asked their opinion. Anderson Cooper scrapped his plans (probably some trifling piffle about the Iraqi civil war - not really important) to heap speculation upon speculation and supposition upon supposition.
Then Pay Dirt! Anna Nicole Smith is found dead!
For a man with a bad heart, King was so excited I was worried. Only last week, he had been giving the two competing fathers of her child an unnecessary amount of airtime, and of course he'd had her on his show dozns of times previously. It was nauseating to watch. Somehow, King managed to keep a sombre expression and tone, despite the fact it was obvious that he was furiously masturbating under the desk.
The thing is, I have little or no time for that type of Z-list floosy, and I found the whole public custody battle just another way of distracting the braindead masses from actually contemplating anything of worth. But I was sickened by the reaction only hours after her death. I turned over after a few minutes. When I came back about 40 minutes later (my cable box cycles through bookmarked channels in a preset order), not only were they still discussing her death - they were talking to legal representatives about when was the best time to take DNA samples - before or after autopsy.
The following night, it was more of the same with added shit-slinging from the wannabe fathers.
So to Larry King and Anderson Cooper, I award you a Tuesday Twat. Put it at the front of the trophy cabinet, you actually deserve this one.
Labels: The Tuesday Twat(s)
FOR YOUR PERUSAL