going live

Okay. Here we are. The royal kiss off:

The Wild Rumpus - Life, 99% of the time. What most of you come for; now served on its own platter.

Table for One - The remaining 1%. Just for me, and those of you who like to watch me stew in my own juices. Don't come here if you haven't been into the "wordy" Oprah of late; you'll be sadly disappointed.

This ending - like all endings - is anti-climatic. Not what you expect, or want, or think it should be, if it was going to do justice to your own investment in it. Because - what? - you've come back here everyday, or almost everyday, for the last 11 months or so? And how is Oprah rewarding you for that? Answer: she's not. Fickle, that Oprah.

Oprah has been with me for almost a year. She's been very good to me - so, so good - but I'm done with her. And I don't know what to say beyond that. Of course, except for the obligatory, I'm going to miss you, you were good to me, blah blah blah. A bunch of bull, really. Because the truth is, I used her more than she used me. And there's no atoning for that.