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James starts things off with The Secret, which he’s been reading and has become rather quickly a positive-thinking slavish apostle of, despite being a self-described “cynical bitch by nature.” Much discourse and debate (and some hilarity) ensue. Interesting point: Is The Secret a secret Scientology tract? Randy reveals his daily secret activity. Donny Osmond’s The Great American Dream receives some discussion. Sanjaya’s ponyhawk sparks superlatives from James, his arms thrown skyward, along the lines of “hairdo of the gods!” and “the Jackie Onassis of our times!” and “the Grace Kelly of 2007!” Gwen Stefani’s career-damaging American Idol appearance. Dancing With the Stars. That backflip! James posits that perhaps “poor Heather Mills” is really the good guy and Paul McCartney is the monster – and an angry pod squad wrestles that thought to the ground and beats it to death with its own prosthetic leg. Interesting point from Fenton: What stands out in the singing competition is not the singing but the hair, and what stands out in the dancing competition is not the dancing but the leg. More chat on that, etc. James admits to having a jewelry hard-on from The Tudors the likes of which he hasn’t had since 300. “History as just pornographic romp,” says Fenton. “Why didn’t we think of that?” In fact, James, bringing up The Secret again, says that since he’s been chanting, “Tudor, Tudor, Tudor,” for the last three months, he feels responsible for the series. Perez Hilton’s high-school pics. Beverly Johnson’s cold sore. The View feuds. Joy’s change. Rosie doesn’t embrace positivity, James believes. More opining on Rosie until James feels, he just feels he has gone too far. (By the way, that guy sitting up there? No idea. Ignore him.)