Molly Ivins February 1

AUSTIN — For those of you keeping track of the steady drip of new lows by the media, here's a lovely item. A right-wing guest on CNN's "Inside Politics" on Jan. 29 twice referred to the presumed relationship between Monica Lewinsky and the president as sexual "assault." No one corrected or even questioned the usage.

And for those of us who collect irony, the complaints of Lucianne Goldberg, the book agent and friend of Lewinsky's "friend" Linda Tripp concerning unflattering reports about her past life are certainly plangent. (I always wanted to use that word, and now I have the chance; it means "exceptionally resonant.") Goldberg, who by her own description lives "to dish," huffed: "They just go after you for everything you've ever done in your whole life." President Clinton doubtlessly feels her pain.

Meanwhile, the saga of the out-of-control prosecutor grows even stranger. Since Lewinsky is apparently unable or unwilling to implicate the president in subornation of perjury, Kenneth Starr now prepares to go after her on a criminal count of perjury.

Indicting someone on charges of perjury in a civil case is so rare that lawyers are astounded by the move. However, veteran observers of Starr's methods find nothing unusual about it; this is the man who has kept Susan McDougal in prison for one year, five months and counting for refusing to answer his questions. If you were Lewinsky's lawyer, that would make you wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

As one scholar put it, if you lie, they can put you in prison; if you tell the truth, you face public humiliation. And all this over allegations of consensual sex between adults. This is insane.

On the matter of the "right-wing conspiracy," of course there's no conspiracy — there is merely a confluence of like-minded people. What's funny about that accusation is that if it were a right-wing politician under attack and the same web of connections emerged among his prosecutors on the left, we know perfectly well the right would be screaming, "Conspiracy!" to the high heavens. I am carefully clipping examples of their dudgeon over this accusation to use next time they come up with one of their batty conspiracy theories.

And now on to our very own media circus in Amarillo.

The trial of Oprah Winfrey for dissing cattle has its own delirious, surreal atmosphere, along with incredibly serious implications for the First Amendment.

The good news is that federal Judge Mary Lou Robinson is as tough as an old boot and is allowing no nonsense in the courtroom. She cuts off those high-price lawyers like a hot knife goin' through butter.

The trial is taking place on two levels. Winfrey's lawyers first have to address the question of whether Winfrey libeled cattle — a novel legal concept at best. Only then can the question of whether she has a perfect right to say whatever she wants be addressed.

It is apparent that Amarillo is not the place to present some high-flown defense of free speech; they'd be wise to save that for the Supreme Court. But it seemed to me that the defense was well ahead on points on the matter of libel, using news releases from the Texas Cattle Breeders Association, among other sources, to make their points.

(I should state here that I went to Amarillo in part to appear on Winfrey's show in my capacity as a collector of Texian language — sayings cuter-than-a-speckled-pup sort of thing. And if it's of any interest at the trial, I can testify that my incredibly witty but scholarly performance was edited down to a mere nubbin! I should also note that Chip Babcock, Winfrey's lawyer, used to defend my old paper, the Dallas Times Herald, so I know the guy. But they're all under a gag order, so I didn't even approach him for comment.)

Far be it from me to predict what an Amarillo jury will do, independence (not to say orneriness) being the way of life in the Panhandle. But, in my opinion, the cattlemen made a serious public relations blunder by bringing this case.

There's a world of people out there who never see the Winfrey show and never heard of cow cannibalism before this trial. The news that dead cattle and sheep are ground up and fed to cattle will come as alarming news to many. As Winfrey said on the program at issue, "I thought they ate grass!"

In theory, the Food and Drug Administration has stopped this dangerous practice with new regs, but some of the food safety experts — who are in danger now of being sued for libel if they speak up about this — think the regs are insufficient. "Ruminant-to-ruminant feeding," as they call it in the courtroom, is the practice responsible for the spread of mad-cow disease in England. This unfortunate practice, or former practice, is getting more publicity now from the trial than it ever got on Winfrey's show.

***

Molly Ivins is a columnist for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

COPYRIGHT 1998 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.