Paging Dr. Phil for Letterman

We can figure out how to defeat terrorists in Afghanistan, get health care reform through Congress or save David Letterman's seven-month marriage, but doing all of the above may bring on a severe case of media overload.

Of the three national dilemmas, Letterman's is beginning to look like the worst, with a slow drip of liaison disclosures coupled with his own continuing on-camera mea culpas.

"When something happens like that," he told his audience last night, "if you hurt a person and it's your responsibility, you try to fix it. And at that point, there's only two things that can happen: Either you're going to make some progress and get it fixed, or you're going to fall short and perhaps not get it fixed, so let me tell you folks, I got my work cut out for me."

The problem with Letterman's TV self-therapy is that such attempted sincerity is a poor fit for a figure whose career has been based on being snarky about everybody else's shortcomings.

He has progressed from last week's tap-dance about being blackmailed for "creepy" behavior to now thanking his staff for "putting up with something stupid I've gotten myself involved in."

If we're ever going to hear the end of it, Letterman may have to book Dr. Phil to put him through a full round of cathartic psychobabble and let it all hang out.

Meanwhile, there will be more late-night laughs available on Conan O'Brien's show.

Dr. Phil's Octumom Circus

Those two symptoms of cultural excess--the young woman with a fixation on breeding and the super-salesman of psychobabble--were bound to get together in a media collision as embarrassing as it is prototypical.

Dr. Phil, out of the goodness of his heart and ratings for his talk show, arranged for child care to help Nadya Suleman with her brood of 14 including the octuplets, only to have it all end in a brawl between Suleman's lawyer and Gloria Allred, the not-publicity averse attorney for the volunteer group, Angels in Waiting.

Suleman has fired the Angels after an on-camera confrontation over their criticism of her child-rearing skills and, while not taking part in Dr. Phil's continuing public service coverage of her activities, did manage a call-in appearance to deny that she is an unfit mother.

Meanwhile, some 14 real children are involved in this surreal soap opera that is threatening to make the 1930s' freak show over the Dionne quintuplets look like the Partridge family. Has the economic downturn depleted California's social services to the point of being helpless to intervene in all this?

Presidential Pop Psychology

At The Debate, moderator Jim Lehrer at times seemed to be a marriage counselor, urging Barack Obama and John McCain to address each other directly and express their feelings, and now the candidates are accusing each other of being in denial about the financial crisis.

McCain tells voters that "Senator Obama still sees the financial crisis in America as a national problem to be exploited first and solved later." Obama responds, “What he doesn’t seem to get is that if we don’t deal with it right now, by working together for the common good, then this crisis could turn into a far-reaching disaster for workers, businesses, retirees and the American middle class."

As in most bad relationships, there is a breakdown of communication. At Friday night's session, McCain seemed too angry to even look at Obama, let alone talk to him, as his partner tried to cajole him in finding something to agree on.

The remaining debates will be moderated by network elders, Bob Schieffer of CBS and NBC's Tom Brokaw, both of them patient and kindly, but the way things are going, they might want to have Dr. Phil to help the warring couple deal with the "unfinished business of anger, resentment and hurt."

Psychologically, there is no use trying to do anything about the Palin-Biden pairing, a mismatch if there ever was one.

Dr. Phil's Bedside Manure

If Hillary Clinton supporters want to attack Oprah for backing Barack Obama, they could question her judgment about people in creating the cultural embarrassment known as Dr. Phil.

The good Dr. McGraw's latest misadventure in poisoning the well of psychology as a profession involves a reported complaint about his hospital visit to Britney Spears this month, which may constitute practicing without a license in California, and promoting his excursion to the pop star, which could be a violation of doctor-patient privilege.

Since advising her in a lawsuit over dissing beef over a decade ago, McGraw has parlayed appearances on Oprah's show into his own syndicated program, frequent appearances on Larry King, a weight-loss business and a number of legal hassles of his own making.

Peddling pious platitudes and pep talks as psychological insight pays well, starting with Dr. Phil's $15 million syndication deal and a new show later this year in which he will be coaching other medical "experts" in how to connect with TV audiences.

Off-camera, however, he is not that popular. In addition to the possible Britney Spears problem, Dr. Phil is being sued by brothers involved in the case of Natalee Holloway, victim of a headline disappearance in Aruba, for "invasion of privacy, fraud, deceit, defamation, emotional distress, and civil conspiracy."

TV's favorite psychologist lost his license to practice in his home state as a result of disciplinary sanctions imposed by the Texas State Board of Examiners of Psychologists in 1989 after a former therapy client filed a complaint, claiming their relationship was inappropriate.

Since then, he has made a brilliant career out of being inappropriate in public. Obama admirers can only hope Dr. Phil doesn't join Oprah in stumping for him and create psychological problems for his campaign.

Fred Thompson Playing Dr. Phil

Inspirational figures are not what they used to be. On his way to the Presidency, Ronald Reagan invoked one of his best movie roles, George Gipp, the All-American football player who with his dying breath, exorted teammates to “win one for the Gipper.”

Last night, Fred Thompson told Jay Leno, “I've been mistaken for Dr. Phil." So far, Thompson has been sounding like him too, offering up folksy bromides without embarrassment about America’s ills.

In his announcement commercial, Dr. Fred advises, "We can't allow ourselves to become a weaker, less prosperous and more divided nation. Today, as before, the fate of millions across the world depends on the unity and resolve of the American people."

To sell his elixir, Thompson will tour the primary states in a bus emblazoned with the slogan, "United in Our Core Beliefs," with the themes of "security," "unity" and "prosperity."

Playing the Gipper, Reagan had to exert himself with some broken-field running. Playing Dr. Phil, Thompson only has to run his mouth.