There's a reason ABC granted all this publicity: her Catholic-bashing book is published by Hyperion, part of the oh-so-wholesome Disney Publishing Worldwide. Hyperion made a very lame promotional video for their website, complete with fake nuns (including one that was obviously a male) who invited Jenny to their "reading group" with the secret goal of "saving her soul." Then they refused to shake her hand and one threw a book at her head. You are forgiven if none of this sounds like a laugh riot.
McCarthy plays dumb in the video and refers to God as "He, she, it" or whatever, and concludes, "If there's a Hell, there's no doubt I'm going. Might as well have a blast and party on down all the way to Hell."
McCarthy's weighty tome starts in a somber mass from when she was six, in which "Father Colin" can't seem to utter the words of the Eucharistic Prayer because there's a persistent squeaking noise. We're told the priest grew frustrated and yelled, "What is that noise?" McCarthy's family and their neighbors/enemies the Baruchs angrily blame each other with fake smiles "through clenched teeth." McCarthy remembered the hubbub disturbed "Dad's usual nap time," and a few other sleepyheads. "I think some parishioners were actually drooling."
The punch line at the end of this tale, if you believe any of this? Little Jenny came to church without any underwear and loved the squeaking noise of her bare buttocks on the wooden pew. Then she stood up and twirled her dress and showed everyone her naughty bits.
If you believe any of this, you'll also believe that when she discovered she couldn't be both a nun and a mother, "I wore a Wonder Woman costume for the next eight years." You'll probably also believe the saucy tale of her being naked and whacked out on pills with a pile of other Playmates in Hawaii, where they started to make out with each other. "Holding up drugs in front of a group of Playmates was like holding up an arm to a cannibal tribe."
This is what publishers kill trees for these days. This is how low we go to create "popular culture," and this is how badly we define "comedy." It is art Americana.
L. Brent Bozell III is the president of the Media Research Center. To find out more about Brent Bozell III, and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.
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