When Dorothy and Toto and the needy wierdos she picked up along the way arrived at Oz to wheedle some freebees from the all-powerful Wizard, they were disappointed to find instead some wimpy, timid, guilt-ridden, not very bright, whiny guy hiding in a closet behind a curtain, pulling levers, flashing lights and using a voice deepening device to sound masculine. A phony. A disapointment, A bust. A real freak show. But the Wizard of Oz had one thing going for him: he understood, as did his distant cousin Dr. Phil, that people don't like acknowledging and managing their own power. That people are frightened of what they're capable of. That the Great Unwashed would rather subcontract out their precious intelligence to greedy, over-compensating hacks.
Long ago, I used to hear about some constantly whining, pushy, balding, wispy guy who was struggling to to sell his writing to pay the rent on his rented house in Beachwood Canyon in Hollywood filled with his kitty cats, apparently his only friends at the time. His name was Matthew Drudge. He was described to me as reclusive and wimpy, timid and riddled with guilt over being gay, not very bright but very, very ambitious and in a constant nuclear rage because he could never get laid. No matter how much he showered, there was always a bit of body odor from his constant state of anxiety and inferiority. Poor Matthew was just one more middle-aged, gay, balding, nebishy nobody in Hollywood, the land of perfect beauties. Matthew was severely pissed at Mother Nature's neglect.
Shopping for cat food and Edys' Rocky Road at the expensive, snooty Mayfair Market near his house, poor Matthew was invisible. He stared longingly at the drop-dead gorgeous men who brushed past him rushing toward the free-range chicken breast. The years passed. More hair fell out. Matthew's rage grew.
Using Madonna as his Madonna, Matthew Drudge made a decision. If he couldn't be pretty, if he would never know what it was like to be smiled at, much less made love to, by a pretty man, Matthew would somehow, some way find a way to acquire power. Poor Matthew had watched the Wizard of Oz many times, snuggled with his kitties, and understood the theory of Implied Power. He sneered at the stupid Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion and that other loser for not taking responsibility for their lives. For Christ sakes, couldn't Dorothy have called the Auto Club and asked for directions back to Kansas instead of making such a fuss.
So little Matthew Drudge, with his beads of sweat on his forehead, his constant hint of b.o., his pesky dandruff flakes, saw his opening. He didn't wear those funny hats to cover his baldness and keep the sun off his acne scars for no reason. His hero was Walter Winchell, the famous show-biz columnist with the staccato voice, who scared people into believing he Walter actually had power. And who also wore funny hats to hide his baldness and keep the sun off his acne scars and mask his middle-aged ordinariness. And prospered until one day someone pulled back the curtain and saw Walter for the sad, talentless, spiteful nobody he was and ended his career of malice and spite. Think Joseph McCarthy. Think Newt Gingrich. Think Morton Downey, Jr. Think Charo.
Preying upon the homophobic fears and sexual envies of the also poorly-laid Right-Wing, Matthew gladly sold his soul for a few years of fame and fortune and cat food and the dim hope that power might make him less repulsive. Slowly, the powerful and damned found their way to Matthew, using him as he used them and Matthew's power grew. Matthew became widely quoted with his blog INCLUDED on all the IMPORTANT BIG BLOGS. Little outsider Matthew Drudge had finally become an insider.
I cannot say if the beautiful men now hold their noses and fix their smiles and actually give sweaty Matthew the time of day since he has become the all-powerful Wizard of Sludge. I do know that Matthew's legacy will be that of a self-hating, closeted homosexual who has had no problem hurting other homosexuals when it served his purpose. Just as Walter Winchell has been dismissed as a mean-spirited, fear-mongering, predator, Drudge will one day also be dismissed, the Mayfair Market all over again.
Finally though, I have to give Drudge his due. He used the Seven Deadly Sins to gain power and fame and fortune. It is said that he has become a major power player in the next election and the one after that. I have heard that poor sweaty Matthew could even sink Hillary Clinton in 2008. Unless someone smart and fearless pulls back the curtain and exposes this bogus creature for what he is.