By RegoPark
Contributing Blogger
If you haven’t read Drudge Manifesto, check out the excerpt here . Unfortunately, that’s the best part of the book. As many reviews point out, this is a combination of blank pages, fan mail, chapter title pages, pages containing only single words, etc. What flesh that lies between them might be charitably described as “mystery meat”. As I’ll explain, the meat isn’t even Matt’s.
“Co-written” by the late great Julia Phillips, producer of movies like The Sting and Close Encounters of the Third Kind and author of the Hollywood tell-all You’ll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again, the book nonetheless shot up into the bestseller charts and sold somewhere in the neighborhood of 8 million copies, even though it received only one review in a major newspaper. Brett Sokol, who interviewed Drudge for the Miami New Times, reported that Drudge’s radio room in his apartment has a blown-up poster of the bestseller list with Manifesto circled.
As much as I like Drudge and as immersed as I once was in Beat poetry, even I’ve got my limits. Sorry, Matt, this thing is pretty damned hard to read. An ex-philosophy major, I had phenomenology and semiotics texts in college that were easier to get through.
It piqued my curiosity that the very same complaints about the run-on “poetic license”, et. al. were the same complaints Amazon readers had about Julia Phillips’ last book. So I checked it out. Yep. Just as I feared…
A few Manifesto “manifestations” are definitely Drudge: The content of the stories, the facts, some opinions, and the catchy corporate combos that pepper the text (”With this latest greatest urge to merge, it was not immediately clear if either the ABCNEWSWASHINGTONPOST Polling Unit or the CBSNEWSNEWYORKTIMES Polling Unit were headed for divorce or bigamy…”) which I recognize from reading his old AOL/Wired articles.
Then there’s this:
I come from a typical American family.
B___ and C___ Drudge divorced when I was six.
Dad, a social worker, shacked up with Someone New and moved to the east coast of Maryland. I stayed with Mom, one of the first women to graduate from ___ University Law School and pass the bar in Maryland. (My deletions, not Matt’s.)
Not entirely cool, I thought when I first read it. I mean, hey, confess your OWN sins, not your family’s. Especially when Dad helped launch your career with that first computer a few paragraphs later. Especially kind of stupid when he told Playboy two years beforehand, in response to the question, “What did your parents do for a living?”
Drudge: I’m protecting my parents all the way. Since the White House has been using private investigators, I haven’t been talking about my parents. Since this lawsuit blew up, I don’t even see them when I go to Washington. It’s probably the smart thing to do.
Playboy: what are you protecting them from?
Drudge: I don’t want them to enter my hell world. It’s high stakes when the president is supporting a civil lawsuit against you.
Playboy: do you think your notoriety is problematic for them?
Drudge: For my parents? no. I’m more concerned with the private investigators and the White House slime machine. What they did to Linda Tripp — going into her arrest record 30 years ago. I don’t want to bring my parents into the middle of this.
Well, at least one mystery has been solved:
The whole thing - cutesy literary schtick, difficult-to-read format, bad, bad poetry — is pretty much all Julia Phillips. If you’ve read You’ll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again, it’s a little in the same annoying vein, although she didn’t really pump up the volume until her follow-up book, Driving Under the Affluence. I just read the latter book and yep, the spittin’ image of what you see in the pages of Drudge Manifesto are here. Even certain key phrases: “Information being power and all.” Not the least of which is her Mom complex which followed her through both books. You read more about her dear dead neurotic Mom in the 615 pages of Lunch than any of the celebrities she name-drops.
So now that I feel a little bit better about the possibility that Matt respects and cares about his parents, and remembering how little time he would have to write this literary tchotchke (teach yourself a vocabulary word if you don’t know what it is), I’m confronted with the whole Platonic dilemma again: Where did Socrates end and Plato begin? How much is the teacher’s actual teaching and how much the student’s interpretation?
To answer this, I returned to the 1998 Playboy interview:
I’ve never done a term paper and wouldn’t know how. I wouldn’t know how to write anything more than two or three paragraphs, little bites. If I had to actually form a story from beginning to end I don’t think I could do it. Everything I’ve learned about reporting I’ve learned on the Internet.
But that’s not the only mystery meat in this repository.
In culling the resources on the Web, I made a point of comparing the complete online transcript of Drudge’s speech at the Washington Press Club with the excerpt of the subsequent audience Q&A printed at the back of Drudge Manifesto. Now, some editorial deletions were obviously called for: the speech itself reiterated the stories and points MattJulia made at the beginning of the beginning of the book. Details like “one year later there would be (advertising)” are included not as footnotes but inserted parenthetically in the text. The book version of the transcript has Matt saying “I forgive you” in sotto voce, perhaps echoing a previous chapter when he’s watching TV at New Year’s 2000 and symbolically “forgives” everybody who trashed him. Then, there are a few things that were deleted from the transcript. One of them was Matt’s statement that he knocked on Monica Lewinsky’s door. Two sentences completely removed from the Q&A.
What’s that all about? Any ideas?
In a nutshell, this is what happens to a book when an author is in a seller’s market. You may remember in a previous entry that New York reported Matt bulldozed the publisher into letting him do an audio recording of Drudge Manifesto with flutes and drums in the background. Drudge reported himself in another interview that Random House had approached him with a book deal, and presumably Penguin Putnam, the book’s ultimate publisher, wasn’t in a position to drive a hard bargain.
Also keep in mind that Julia Phillips was a friend of Matt’s. It’s interesting to note that her last book revolved around her huge IRS debt, and that she died of cancer in January 2002, less than two years after the book saw completion. I also recall another friend of his, Ann Coulter to be exact, telling the Washington Post that he likes to give money to friends because he doesn’t know what to do with it. So it’s arguable that he outsourced the job to someone who really needed it. Not that Drudge and Phillips are totally on separate wavelengths…my feeling is that they shared a good long laugh over this million dollar confessional Beat baby.
Don’t misunderstand me — Julia was an interesting woman, and I’m sorry that she’s gone and that Matt lost one of his few friends — but after reading the two Phillips Manifestos, I know what we really got here bears very little resemblance to the ghostwriter’s subject. Indeed, Drudge is no micromanager. He admits he’s the “worst marketer out there. I just don’t care. I put all my energy into the site…” My unsettling question is, did he look at ANY of this? Obviously the editor didn’t have or exercise a great amount of control here. (If he/she had, the style might have worked in the end.)
The bottom line is that this book was totally outsourced - and Matt’s oft-refreshing lack of perfectionism really came back to bite him in the buttocks. But not really — it did what he invariably hoped it would accomplish. It made relatively effortless money, perpetuated his visibility and validated him in the media. What the book doesn’t do, alas, is give anyone an idea to who the hell Matt Drudge really is.
RegoPark is a writer with a background in marketing communications. She is currently writing a novel on PR and the alternative media.