Dear Oprah,

Today I watched with bemused fascination your "apology" and raking over the coals of discredited author, Mr. James Frey, on your syndicated gab fest, Oprah. I just couldn't help but smirk at your accusation to Nan Talese, the editor of Doubleday Books taking her to task for not fact checking Mr. Frey's assertions in his book. Telling her, in effect, that she didn't ask the hard questions because so much of his book put up red flags. Now, on the one hand, if these red flags are going up now, in twenty-twenty hindsight, then it's hardly fair to reprimand Ms. Talese for not questioning the facts of his book. Hindsight is always clear and obvious but, it's not really reasonable to expect her to catch what no one else did at the time of the book's publishing and subsequent success. And if these "red flags" went up when you read the book, then why did you choose it for your show, or at least have your staff check the facts presented in the book?
Now, on the other hand, how dare you assert that Ms. Talese failed to ask the hard questions to Mr. Frey about his memoir when you are known throughout the journalistic world as the queen of the softball questions. You bring on celebrity guest after notable guest and pretty much stick to the script that their publicist gives you, never straying off the topic the guest wants to/is willing to discuss. It galls me to see you so hypocritically castigate these people about "lying" to you and embarrassing you but, Ms. Winfrey, in the name of ratings and making nice-nice, you lie to us, by omission, when you don't take opportunities with those guests that have more on their plate than their current movie/sitcom/decor project they are trying to promote.
So, don't sit there so sanctimonious, going on about how "he done me wrong" and singing the blues. You have dropped the ball numerous times over your twenty plus year career. Apologize for that, first, then deal with this.
By the way, how in the hell did you get him to come on your show? I kept imagining thugs just off camera, menacingly standing there making sure he sat quietly while you gave him a very public whipping. .