Whether it's the revolving cast of Dancing With the Stars or Bob Woodward on the hot seat, they will inevitably have to brace themselves for a barrage of smoke-filled soap bubbles lobbed at them by a hideous mutant hybrid of Grandpa Simpson and Junior Soprano seated on the other side of a heart-shaped desk.

But it’s Larry King’s now-trademarked non-sequiter, “Are you optimistic?” that gives him a chance to inject an air of gravitas into a program that normally revolves around someone connected, however peripherally, to the missing/murdered white girl du jour. Or just as frequently, anyone outside of a mausoleum or oxygen tent who has ever tapped Angie Dickinson.

Larry doesn't conceal his preference for guests whose careers peaked during the Eisenhower era. You get the feeling that if Larry had his way, his political team would be made up of Bindi Irwin, Don Rickles and the ghost of Natalee Holloway.

If the purpose of the TV and radio host is to define the framework within which people are allowed to think and ask questions, then Larry, like Oprah, simply strip that function down to a bare minimum in much the same way ketchup can be considered, technically speaking, a vegetable. Remarkably, no one on his show (at least to my knowledge) has ever replied to his oft-blurted question “Are you optimistic?” in the negative.

The question has the advantage of connoting seriousness in a way that soothingly resonates throughout the nation's McMansions and Double Wide trailers alike, offering a brief, highly controlled respite from the "all terror all the time" imperative of network and cable news. In Larry Land, the world's more pressing problems, from melting polar caps to African genocide, are shrink-wrapped into easily digestible nuggets of conventional thinking labeled “wisdom.”

According to a March 2005 New York Times' profile of CNN president Jon Klein, the network was seeking "to spend less time reporting the news of the day" (huh?) and focusing more on "emotionally gripping, character-driven narratives pegged to recent events." Thus, the government's runaway-spending becomes Runaway Bride, while coverage of the world's troubled spots focuses instead on the high-profile personalities who organize the money-raising minstrel shows for those suffering populations.

Goebbels himself couldn't have come up with a better dog-and-pony show than LKL to instill an airy conditioned, non-response in the citizenry and the illusion of engaging in the democratic process through "live" phone calls. Here is proof that Democracy is not only alive and well, but that we—meaning us Dittoheads—are a part of it! We do have a voice, even if it amounts to a collective, "Ditto," or gushing praise for Larry from a caller in Nebraska.

Whether the subject is global warming or celebrity drunk drivers, you can count on Larry to mask his ignorance of the subject by dumbing the conversation down to a level that even a none-too bright hotel heiress would insist was "too banal" and "an insult to single-celled invertebrates everywhere."

OK, so he's dumb as a bag of turnips, but at least no one can accuse him of playing the kind of "gotcha" journalism that occurs the moment a high-profile personality says something revealing, or worse, honest. When Jimmy Carter momentarily veered off-script to compare Israel's race-based policies to Apartheid, he was roundly condemned by the establishment media who used the opportunity his "gaffe" afforded to play "hard ball" with the Nobel laureate, launching an endless tirade of indignation and the kind of tough questioning that was curiously absent in the build up to the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan. Carter's extended "Ooops!-moment" confirmed what we already knew, that when the truth is spoken in America's political culture, it is always a gaffe, an embarrassing slip of the tongue that must be atoned for by way of repeated public apologies. It must have been a relief for the beleaguered former President to appear on Larry King Live to chat amiably off-topic about his charity projects and vineyards.

Should any of his guests actually step out of their assigned roles as keynote motivational speakers and offer something other than a cautiously upbeat assessment of current events, watch how quickly the half-napping host will rouse himself out of his stupor long enough to steer the conversation away from the choppy waters of unguarded truth telling, while surreptitiously passing a "Do not invite back" note to his producer.

Perhaps it's to Larry's credit that he doesn't really differentiate between a Hoochie-Mama Has-Been actress and a former US Secretary of State under Nixon. If you’re Henry Kissinger, having the King of Shlock compliment you on your latest boob job is a small price to pay for not being cross-examined at the Hague about your war criminal past. And if you can stand having your rack fiercely ogled while sitting nipple-to-eyeball with a goblin-like host perched between the gothic spires of his own shoulder blades, there's always an open-door invitation to flog your latest policy initiative.

Understanding how The King of Talk has attained the status (according to one media expert at least) of "world-renowned journalist" requires further rumination on how shoe-shining for power has become the staple format of talk shows, and indeed, the national pastime, where cozy banter between elites passes for genuine and substantive dialogue on subjects that profoundly effect our lives (healthcare, social security, employment, public education etc. . .)

Wolf Blitzer requesting that those Republican presidential candidates who believe in evolution to raise their hands doesn't inspire dialogue so much as ridicule. But sadly, this passes as serious journalism in elite circles, just as empty slogans like "The Audacity of Hope" has become a clarion call for non-action by yet the latest corporate shill on the Democratic party presidential ticket.

As Americans' faith in their political institutions continues to wane (according to recent polls, the number of Americans who trust Congress is about the same as the number who admit to beating their wives), TV and radio talk shows provide false affirmation that we have a role in determining the direction of public policy. Increasingly, though, public policy is limited to what extent the law can punish Mexican workers and the Girls Gone Wild segment of the population.

In an age when the only guaranteed formula for political success at the national level is to terrorize the voting public with more or less imaginary threats of mass extinction, temporary relief always comes in the form of the latest feel-good, victim-blaming nostrum.

Since the public has largely given up on their expectations that the mainstream media fulfill its essential role as the peoples' watchdog and political conscience, relentless chit-chat sessions like LKL, Oprah, and even Letterman serve an even more vital function: to provide the illusory assurances that, unlike some forsaken creature clinging to survival on a drifting ice-cap as the planet hurtles towards extinction, we will somehow endure, shopping bags and credit ratings intact—at least long enough to find out whether or not Larry King will ask Paris Hilton if she's optimistic.

jenmatsui@hotmail.com