You probably already know this, but I'm going to remind you anyway: Oprah Winfrey is big-time. Big. Time. She is a saint, an epoch, a tectonic-level mover-and-shaker. And I wouldn't need to tie a sentence around your finger about it except — get this — folks have been all "Post-Oprah" now that she's left a The Oprah Winfrey Show-sized black hole in daytime TV (RIP, crosses heart, pours mid-afternoon latte).
But peep: Jordan played ball in the post-Jordan era. And Obama runs the point in the post-Obama era. So, too, can Oprah hold court in the post-Oprah era. That's why nothing — nothing! — is chipping at the corners of my heart like this awkward sense that the collective culture at large is pooping on Oprah. Do not shake your head and tell me no. It's out there, I've seen it. I'd link except I don't want to point flashlights.
Oprah, dawg? We pooping on Oprah?
...continued...
Long Live the Queen [Grantland]
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