Elizabeth Edwards the Hypocrite

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Matt Sayles / AP Photo

Whatever Elizabeth Edwards tells Oprah, she was her husband's co-conspirator in his reckless pursuit of power, and now she's cashing out on the whole sorry spectacle.

Xtra Insight: Watch Elizabeth's much-anticipated Oprah appearance.

Among modern sacrileges, those topping the list include: (1) visiting Mexico’s Our Lady of Guadalupe Shrine and asking, “Who painted it?” Or, slightly worse, (2) questioning Elizabeth Edwards’ motives.

Hillary Clinton accomplished the first when she viewed the Virgin Mary’s image, said to have been miraculously imprinted on the cloak of one St. Juan Diego in 1531, prompting the rector of the basilica to respond: “God!”

Elizabeth’s formidable, brave presence on the campaign trail was John’s armor. Family unity? Or conspiracy to commit public fraud?

Others are tiptoeing around the second item, as Elizabeth launches the latest book in her oeuvre of misfortune: Resilience.

I’ll say.

Having once mocked John Edwards’ vanity just when his wife’s cancer returned, it seems fitting that I chime in now. But first, a word of clarification: I did not mock Edwards’ hair when Elizabeth found out about her cancer; I wrote a column about John’s narcissism, predicting his political demise, that just happened to run in most newspapers on the day the Edwardses decided to go public about the cancer’s resurgence.

It was a case of unfortunate timing rather than malice. That said, it can’t be argued that I was stark raving mad.

Little did we know at the time that the man who built a populist campaign excavating houses from Katrina’s muck—while his own 28,000-square-foot teepee was under construction—was also managing an affair. Who says men can’t multitask?

At least, we didn’t know, though Elizabeth did.

This feast of human frailty would be a private affair, if only it were. Today, Elizabeth hits The Oprah Winfrey Show and appears in the June issue of Oprah’s O Magazine. Time magazine is running an excerpt of the book. And the blogosphere is abuzz with twitter. Or is that atwitter with buzz?

What fun this must be for John. I picture him wearing a hairshirt, walking the long, empty corridors of home and chanting: “Hail Elizabeth, full of grace, blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, not whatshername’s.”

As for Elizabeth, well, a book tour is designed to sell books, isn’t it? And nothing sells like the sordid mess of a fallen man, another woman, and a love-baby born in the midst of a presidential campaign. In her Oprah interview, Elizabeth says she has no idea who the father is. “It doesn’t look like my children.” Perhaps not, but, alas, the baby does bear a striking resemblance to her husband.

Might we pause here to ponder what kind of person refers to a one-year-old baby girl as “it?” While you chew on that, let’s shed our guilt and keep in mind that Elizabeth Edwards is the one who reopened this door.

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