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The Beck Week That Was; A Return to Bublé

Reported by Guest Blogger - January 4, 2010 -

Guest blogged by Aunty Em

When last Monday (12/28/09) rolled around I began my usual routine. At a few minutes to five, I prepared a clean clipboard, shuffled into the kitchen to start prepping dinner for me and Pops, and turned on the tee vee so you didn’t have to. The second I heard the words, “Charles Payne in for Glenn Beck,” I tuned out. Sorry, folks. Only the actual presence of The Beckster makes The Glenn Beck Show watchable. Without him, it’s no longer the Comedy Conspiracy Hour; it’s just awkward tee vee. And, while this may be politically incorrect, I have a hard time taking a Black Conservative seriously. Sorry, Mr. Payne. You seem like a very nice man, but one who has forgotten the people he left behind.

Obviously, this would have been the perfect week to do a Beck Year That Was column, but I hear it’s already been done. However, a segment from the previous week has been nagging at me, so I thought I would explore it a little deeper.

Now, I’m no psychologist, but I’ve done some reading and have even been on a couch or two in my time. I understand a little something about “projection.” There are times, when I’m watching the Beck Breakdown Broadcast, I see something barely perceptible by the camera, but make no mistake: it’s there. I can now read his ticks and stumbles, and see into his foibles and fears, after I’ve had him on my couch for these many weeks.

WiseGEEK defines Psychological projection as “a form of defense mechanism in which someone attributes thoughts, feelings, and ideas which are perceived as undesirable to someone else. For example, someone who harbors racist ideas while believing that racism is socially undesirable might come to believe that a friend is racist, projecting his or her racism onto the other person. Projection may manifest in all kinds of ways, and while it may be a defense mechanism, it can also be very destructive.”

During The Beckerhead’s wankfest with Michael Bublé on December 22nd, it was as though Toto had pulled back the curtain and the vast viewing audience was no longer seeing the projection of the Wizard of Oz on a column of smoke (and mirrors). Before you could say “Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more,” Glinda revealed himself as the man behind the curtain, pulling levers and pushing buttons, hoping you'd never catch on to what a big fraud he is, even to himself.

On this particular show one had to wait a fairly long time for this gem. The show started out relatively blandly, except for some good ol’ fashioned Canada-bashing that Beck got in near the top of the show. This “Pearl of Beck” came almost 18 minutes into the show, which still put it in the space normally filled by the ‘opening monologue,’ or at the 7:45 mark in the embedded video below.

First, I’ll describe Bluffer Beck’s "tell." On the off-chance that you sit down and play poker with him, this will allow you to bust him every time. One moment he seems in control of himself and the next moment he’s pushing “all in” on a bluff. I see it time and time again and, when it happens, I always know something stunning is coming.

In this segment, Bublé was saying he feels he’s now at an age where he can no longer fob off his mistakes to being a kid. Now that he’s older, he understands he has to take responsibility for his actions.

Watch it for yourself. When Bublé started talking about “responsibility,” The Beckster appeared, briefly, to disengage from the conversation. His eyes glazed over and (thank the director for the two-shot) he got a far-away look in his eye. Then he looked up and slightly to his left. That’s the ‘tell.’ It became clear he suddenly had a thought because it was written right on his mug. When he returned to the present, he pushed “all in” with this non sequitor of projection:

“Does it ever freak you out that you are a brand?”

The question took Bublé by total surprise. “Uh, no.”

There was nothing left for Bettin' Beck to do but hope it all came around for him on the river. He couldn't stop himself now, even if he wanted to, totally unaware of how much of himself he was revealing. “You’ve never had that feeling? That you are a brand—That you are responsible for a lot of people’s livelihoods? That you—you coul—you screw it up and a lot of people lose?”

There was an awkward, pregnant pause before Beck finally filled it by addressing the audience. “I’m freaking him out.”

No Glenn, I would say you were freaking yourself out. This was evidenced by your very next utterance after Bublé tried to dismiss the entire topic by saying, “I never thought of that before."

"It’ll keep you up at night,” Beck said.

“Glenn, I’m totally screwed."

Or maybe Beck’s the one that’s screwed. This is obviously keeping him awake at night. Just think of it. There’s an awful lot of pressure on this man who finds himself, Apollo-like, supporting a huge upside-down pyramid on his shoulders. If he screws up “a lot of people lose.” People such as those who help him put together his 3-hour weekday Radio Drama Theatre, to all of those peons who splice together the out -of- context videos on his Tee Vee show. Then there are all those graphic artists who draw those cute little pictures so Beckerheads reading his books have something to look at when they get stuck on the big words. The book publishing concerns who pump out his silly tomes. And, don’t forget all those wage-slaves overseas cranking out the knickknacks on sale on his innertube site. Then there are the movie houses that depend on Big Boffo Box Office to move the popcorn and candy. Right on down to the union worker who runs the follow spot at his live shows. All these people on the Glenn Gravy Train have a stake in making sure that a reformed alcoholic, ex-cocaine addict, former morning zoo shock jock, now turned Mormon Tee Vee Salesman, stays clean and sober. I hope he’s up to the challenge.

As I take off my amateur psychologists’ hat and bring out my crystal ball, let me make a prediction or two for the year ahead. Sponsors who joined The Beck Boycott seem to be in no hurry to come back, although they are still plunking their dollars down on other Faux Noise programs. FNC will continue to run the show throughout 2010 as a loss-leader.

Beck will also be moving, as he’s put his house up for sale. According to HuffPo, he’s asking almost $4 million dollars for his pile of bricks in Connecticut. It sounds like a lot until you hear he’s taking a quarter of a million dollar bath on the house, having paid more for it when he bought it in 2005. I predict that Beck will use his estimated +$18 million haul in 2009 to buy himself a bigger, more impressive home, in a more exclusive, gated community…with big guards and even bigger dogs. The better to maintain his touch with the common folk.

No matter where he’s living, the road will get very rough for The Beckinator in 2010. Not a week will go by that he doesn’t find a new target to smear with lies and distortions. As each new target is acquired this year, another organized group will begin to howl in righteous indignation. Eventually, Big Mouth Beck will say something so outrageous, so off-the-wall, so ridiculous that a “Dump Glenn Beck” movement will coalesce and pick up steam. As usual FNC, and Bashful Beck, will make themselves the victims, crying that their First Amendment rights are being threatened while using one of the largest megaphones in broadcasting. Despite the public pressure, Beck will hang onto his show until the ball drops for 2011, but for how much longer than that?

I further predict, not necessarily in the next year, but eventually, that he will continue to keep himself up at night to the point where he either falls prey to Dionysus, The God of Beckanalia, or starts snorting the Colombian Marching Powder <> all over again, if he isn’t already. This will lead to an eventual meltdown, where we are told that Glenda is taking a bit of a rest.

Stay tuned. It’s going to be a great year in Beckville and I’ll continue to profile its mayor week after week.

To all my loyal readers and facefriends: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

With all my love,

Aunty Em