Confidence trickster

Every day thousands of women, mostly white, sit in reverential silence, almost urinating with excitement at the prospect of viewing and listening to the object of their worship and adoration.

Just who is this extraordinarily gifted and charismatic person expected to come before them to warm their hearts and enlighten them? Is it Shakespeare, Mozart or Michelangelo? Or Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein or, perhaps, even Jesus Christ?

Sadly, it is none of these illustrious men of sublime and towering genius but, instead, that conceited, insincere, entirely undistinguished, mind-numbingly boring O. Winfrey, a woman I regard as little more than a confidence trickster.

Devoid of talent herself, she basks in the golden glow of the sometimes worthy achievements of her guests and yet, inexplicably, somehow manages to convince her sycophantic, half-witted audience that those achievements were of her doing.

Now, shamefully, it would appear that this whole nation is contributing to the entirely misplaced and unwarranted euphoria for this very ordinary woman who is famous simply for being famous. Another example, I fear, of that all too common American affliction, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” syndrome.

In the name of humanity, just what is happening to this nation, once on the brink of greatness, but now a sad, pale shadow of its former self? WILLIAM G. CARLYLE North Little Rock