The Bill, Hillary show: all good voyeuristic fun

The Bill and Hillary show rolls on. On Wednesday he took a seat in the public gallery of the US Senate as the new senator from New York was sworn in. A touching scene. He grasped his daughter Chelsea's hand and beamed from ear to ear with pride as the country's First Lady raised her right hand to join the ranks of the 107th Congress. "I'm ecstatic," he said later.

Then, entering into the mood of bipartisanship that marks these occasions, even 98-year-old Strom Thurmond, South Carolina's living dinosaur, rose to his feet to address her with the words "can I hug you". And he did, to the astonishment and delight of all. Al Gore, in the chair, had to restore order.

Such reaching out from the far right across the chamber will not last, however. Rumblings continue about the $8 million advance she has been given, sight unseen, for her book, and the Republicans are making much of the $2.8 million splashed out on the Clintons' new pied a terre in Washington's exclusive embassy district.

And then there are reports that the Clintons' friends are contributing to furnishing the new pad from a "wedding list" being held at Omaha's exclusive Borsheim's Fine Jewellery and Gifts. How about a Spode soup tureen with stand at $2,340? Or a contribution towards the 40-setting Faberge Sterling Imperial Court silverware service? There's a vegetable serving spoon at $510 and asparagus tongs at a mere $535. I should mention, however, before you dash for the phone that unfortunately for Hillary the closing date for such gifts was Wednesday, after which strict Senate rules on gifts come into play. We don't yet know how generous their friends have been, but when I get the invite I'll tell you. Promise.

And although the book deal has drawn considerable comment, including hostile leaders from the normally friendly Washington Post and New York Times, it does appear to comply with Senate rules on book advances, though would not pass muster in the House.

The big question everyone is asking here is what will her publisher get for his eight million, even by the standards of this country an astonishing sum? A full and unexpurgated disclosure of the Monica years, of what Bill said to her and she said to Bill? Hillary's spokeswoman and the publishers have blown hot and cold in response to questions. Candid, sure. But there are limits, we are told. But that's the real point of my letter this week. Admittedly one I've taken a while to get to. There are no limits in this bizarre country to the willingness of its citizens to flagellate themselves emotionally in public, disclosing the most intimate details of their lives to a seemingly insatiable public. It is true that an American will tell you anything. Anything.

Take the latest TV offerings from Rupert Murdoch's mainstream national channel, Fox. Capitalising on the success of the Survivor series, a desert island version of Big Brother, Fox is next week unveiling its latest venture in "reality TV", Temptation Island. In this, four unmarried, but "seriously committed", couples, dressed, as far as I have been able to ascertain, in bathing costumes, are brought to a romantic island with 30 singles who are "looking for love".

In the words of the Fox promo, our couples will "test the waters of temptation. . . After two weeks of exploring the single world again the couples will have to decide between a possible new love interest and their old flame." Cameras will bring us every dalliance and tantrum.

In February Fox will descend to an even lower level of crassness. The Washington Times columnist Maggie Gallagher, describes the quiz show I want a divorce as an exercise in sadomasochism. I think she is being restrained. Couples who have recently filed for divorce are being asked to answer questions about each other and why their relationships broke down for a prize of up to $100,000 and a public division of the marital property. (Thankfully for small mercies, eligible couples may not have children under the age of 18). Fox advertises the show to prospective couples with the slogan "Turn your divorce into a good thing" and the show's producer defends it as "a fun way to win hot cash". Peter Isackson says the formula will appeal to audiences because "there will be lots of voyeuristic fun because divorce is such a national phenomenon and people don't take marriage as seriously as they used to".

Or there's Surprise Wedding, a two-hour TV special in which unsuspecting boyfriends are tricked in front of a camera into popping the question they have been assiduously avoiding. Where next? How about a game show for battered women? Or we could lock up a group of reformed alcoholics in a room full of booze and see who cracked first? And why would we be surprised at Hillary's $8 million? All good "voyeuristic fun".