O.J Talks! and Talks, and Talks . . .

One night last week a typical American potato sat on his typical American couch, remote control in hand, wanting to lose himself--to borrow Leonard Cohen’s nifty phrase--”in that hopeless little screen.” He flicked through the channels, looking maybe for Magic Johnson at play on a basketball court, or perhaps one of those happily numbing back channel documentaries about the Amazonian plant world or Edgar Allan Poe.

Flick: Gerry Spence talking about O.J.

Flick: Faye Resnick talking about O.J.

Flick: Country line dancing.

Flick: Chinese-language news. (“Yahdahjahyahyah O.J. . . .)

Flick: “Bewitched.”

Flick: Nicole Brown’s shrink talking about O.J.

He surrendered to the inevitability of America’s most-talked about, and suddenly talkative, former tailback, and lingered on this last channel. Four “O.J. experts” were being debriefed about Simpson’s flurry of impromptu interviews. Silent for so long, America’s Defendant had begun chatting up print reporters, disc jockeys, talk show hosts--anybody, it seemed, with a telephone to take his call and an audience to absorb his pearls.

Not that Simpson had anything new to say. It was not news that he blamed Nicole Brown for their failed relationship. It was not news that he suspected the murders somehow were connected to the drug trade. It was not news that he likes to play golf. Still, the story was splattered across the media canvas, Simpson having joined the pope in that exclusive club of people who command front-page coverage without making any real news.

*

Back to the panel: It consisted of a politician, a commentator, the psychotherapist and, as if by law, an attorney. All shared the common view that by talking so much Simpson was performing a great disservice to himself, his ex-wife, his ex-wife’s slain friend, his children and, most of all, his chances in a pending wrongful death lawsuit. All agreed as well that Simpson was “unraveling.” Said the lawyer: “He isn’t losing it. He’s already lost it.”

Well, perhaps. It is the unschooled opinion of this couch potato that only crazy people commit messy knife murders and then fly to Chicago to play golf with rental car executives. Those who believe Simpson did the murders should not be surprised by any subsequent craziness. Conversely, if Simpson actually was on his lawn chipping golf balls that night, the surreal pageant he endured since certainly would have been enough to make him go bonkers. At the same time, crazy or sane, guilty or innocent, there is a possibility that Simpson’s media “strategy” is as cunning as it is unconventional.

Remember Tiananmen Square? Many protesters. Many Chinese Army tanks. Much shooting in the night. Eyewitness reports of thousands of deaths. Worldwide renunciations. Even as it wiped clean the bloodstains, the Chinese government was dispatching diplomats on an international campaign of relentless denial. Didn’t happen, they kept saying. No students got shot. It was all, as the party leader would tell a stunned Barbara Walters, “much ado about nothing.”

Ah, the big lie. Told with enough frequency and consistency, any whopper has a chance to take hold. The more O.J. Simpson insists he didn’t do it, the more people will start to believe him--or at least begin to wonder if he possibly is telling the truth. Doubters of this analysis might consider: Congress is now debating whether to grant China full and favored status as a trading partner, the ghosts of Tiananmen Square apparently having been chased away . . . by talk.

*

As for damaging his position in the ongoing civil case, again, Simpson might be a step ahead of the expert analysis posse. It’s said that with every utterance he’s planting land mines that will blow up in trial. A contrarian view would be that Simpson actually, in a weird way, is inoculating himself: The more he fills the record with inconsistencies, the less weight each individual inconsistency will carry. Yes, he’ll be able to testify, I did say that, but I also said. . . .

Willie Brown once offered a similar defense in a political context. Hounded about his support of a controversial piece of legislation, the former Assembly speaker suggested reporters check more thoroughly into his voting record. They would find that over time, on this issue as on most others, he had voted on both sides of the question--for it some years, against it others. And thus, he was bulletproof all around.

In any case, Simpson at present seems more concerned with salvaging a public image than beating back a lawsuit--related, but distinctly different tasks. And his only tool happens to be his mouth. Perhaps he should consider another book, a follow-up on his earlier “I Want to Tell You.” This sequel could be entitled: “And Tell You, And Tell You, And Tell You, And Tell You . . . “

Flick.