vituperation

September 12, 2003

A coworker sent me the following picture today, purported to have been snapped on the set of an upcoming movie. In it, I am hanging out with the actress selected to portray a love interest mentioned early in the novel adaptation.

What can I say? Eat your heart out, Justin.

Actually, I guess what I can say is that my coworkers have too much free time.

Sigh.

I have some bad news to share with you. Something I never expected to happen has happened, and I am suprisingly angry about it. A man I pretty much respected, both when I agreed with him and when I disagreed with him, has done something that seems to me to be completely out of character for him.

Dr. Phil sold out.

He’s now selling his own line of weight-loss supplements and nutrition bars. No shit. A glance at the “Shape Up!” fudge nutrition — and I use that word ONLY because he does, not because it’s the right word to describe these things — bar shows the following mix:

Fudge Syrup, Corn Syrup, Sugar, Hydrogenated Starch, High Fructose Corn Syrup, Fractionated Palm Kernel Oil, Glycerin, Sunflower Oil, Unsweetened Chocolate, Carrageenan, Natural Flavor, Crisps, Soy Protein Isolate, Tapioca Starch, Cocoa Powder, Calcium Carbonate, Oat Fiber, Rice Flour, Malt Extract, Chocolate Flavored Coating, Lactitol, Fractionated Palm Kernel Oil, Chicory Extract, Cocoa, Sucralose, Salt, Lecithin, Distilled Monoglycerides, Vanilla Extract, Sodium Caseinate, Partially Hydrogenated Guar Gum, Calcium Phosphate, Chicory Extract; Less Than 2% of the Following: Natural Flavor, Artificial Flavor, Magnesium Oxide, Maltodextrin, Ascorbic Acid, Vitamin C , Ferrous Fumarate, Biotin, Cholecalciferol, Vitamin D, Chromium Chloride, Copper Gluconate, Cyanocobalamin, Vitamin B12, D-Calcium Pantothenate, DL-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate, Vitamin E, Folic Acid, Manganese Sulfate, Niacinamide, Vitamin B3, Phytonadione, Vitamin K, Potassium Iodide, Pyridoxine Hydrochloride, Vitamin B6, Retinyl Palmitate, Vitamin A, Riboflavin, Vitamin B2, Sodium Molybdate, Sodium Selenite, Thiamine Mononitrate, Vitamin B1, Zinc Oxide.

One question: Why the hell would something whose primary ingredients are fudge syrup, corn syrup, sugar, and high fructose corn syrup still need to have Splenda (sucralose) in it? Real nutritious, Dr. Phil.

Even worse than the bars, though, he’s pimping pills. Magic pills, if you believe the ad text, which claims they’re specially formulated to work on different body types. You need these magic pills, according to the good doctor (note: Dr. Phil is NOT a medical doctor, he’s a Ph. D.), because “weight is managed, not cured.” His magic pills help you change your behavior and control your appetite.

What a crock.

Hey, Dr. Phil, I have another question for you. What happens when people stop taking your magic weight-loss pills?

Finally, he has a third supplement, more magic pills, for “intensifying” the effects of his other products. To the tune of TEN PILLS A DAY, in addition to the TWELVE pills in the other stuff. Want to know a better way to get almost ALL of the things in this third supplement? Eat a piece of cold-water fish like salmon, or open a can of sardines.

Please, please don’t become one of his sheep, ready for the fleecing. I swear to God, first Tony Robbins, then Billy Blanks, and now Dr. Phil. Is everyone selling out?

How much does one serving of “integrity” cost these days?

What’s up with those New York book people? Is there something I need to know? It sure seems like they’ve built their entire worldview of Alabama folk from movies like Deliverance and Forrest Gump.

My first real dealing, of course, was with the literary agent I got just a little over a year ago. Things were pretty good with him until Robyn and I were contacted by the Bullshit! people. Then I became the “bumpkin” if he was feeling good and the “fucking bumpkin” if he felt the need to make a particular point.

Needless to say, our relationship went downhill from there.

Yesterday I had my second one-on-one dealing with New York book folks. This time I was on the phone with a man who referred to himself as the “decision-maker” for a national distribution company. These are the folks that make a book available in stores (or, more likely, able to be ordered in stores) around the country.

The man called the title of my book “hokey.”

Yes, hokey. As in mawkishly sentimental; corny. You know, noticeably contrived; artificial. The man who will be taking a SIXTY THREE PERCENT DISCOUNT off the cover price called the title of my book hokey.

He failed to see the humor in the title. Damn Yankees.

Then I told him how many copies sold in the first month.

Lo, his attitude changed suddenly.

I had to send him some pimpage material and a marketing plan, but I may have found myself a distributor.

Got a Realplayer? Feeling like getting all teary-eyed?

Check it out.