Jenny McCarthy is coming, and she's bringing killer bees!

Bah! I knew it!

In February I said this would happen. What I didn't do was establish incontrovertable proof that I said this in February. And why didn't I do that? Because that's how I roll: Swathed in layers of regret and backpeddling.

Here's what I wrote down, but did not document in a public forum, on February 13, 2009: Jenny McCarthy wil get her own daytime talk show, and it will be excruciating.

It's a gift I have, seeing the future. I saw the return of the goatee in men's facial hair fashion during the early nineties. (It was the Van Dyke actually. And I saw it coming.) I saw the election of George W. Bush in 2000 when others still laughed him off during the early primaries. (It was Laura. She made him seem more likable.) I saw the evil that lurked in Mel Gibson when everyone else still thought he was buckets of fun. I knew Rod Blagojevich was going to jail before he even got elected to congress.

Yes, It's a gift. And the ironic twist of that gift is that I never quite get around to advising others of my uncannily accurate predictions. In this way, you see, I am burdened. Burdened both by my eerie ability to foresee the future and burdened by profound laziness that prevents me from doing anything about it. I am like a superhero who keeps forgetting to get my superhero outfit back from the dry-cleaner.

Here's what else I wrote but did not think to have notarized more than three full months ago: Today I saw yet another story on the news about how strenuously the FDA is saying that vaccines don't cause autism. And I got to thinking about how much Jenny McCarthy has become the voice of alternative conceptualizations of autism. And then I got to thinking how she was recently on Oprah. And how she's been on Oprah a lot in the past year or so. And how Oprah seems to like her a lot. And how she seems more and more expertacious every time she's on. That's when the vision came upon me: Liked by Oprah. Sliding into the expert role. Being the face of a newsy issue. It all adds up, doesn't it?

Oprah is going to hand Jenny McCarthy her own show and there's nothing we can do about it.

Jenny has an ideal set up by going up against the FDA. Sure, with ordinary opponents, she might just seem like a moderately successful entertainer insinuating herself into a discipline well outside her skill-set. But against the FDA, she might as well be Marie Curie. I wasn't particularly buying the whole vaccination etiology theory of autism, until I heard how stridently the FDA opposes it. Now I can only assume that vaccines are, like most of what the FDA oversees, some source of kickbacks and pay-offs for the FDA, a department entirely dedicated to whoring for the pharmaceutical industry. If it's Jenny against the FDA, I'm with Jenny.

But what I don't want, (and didn't want on 2/13/09, mind you) is to watch her talk show, squarely slotted between Rachael Ray and Dr. Phil.

But it's coming. I knew it on Valentine's Day Eve. It's official now. Get beneath your desk with your head between your knees and brace for it.

And while we're at it, we should brace for a few other things that I will now detail in a rambling fashion, lest they come to pass before I document it, and I will be unable to enjoy the position of smug superiority that suits me so well. Please note: I have a bad feeling that Valerie Bertinelli is moving into the talk show host orbit. . . If Chicago does win the 2016 Olympics, it will more than likely be withdrawn when Rich Daley is finally indicted for a generation's worth of corruption based on depositions by John Harris in the course of Rod Blagojevich's trial. (Either that or U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald will die mysteriously.). . . Pope Benedict (who is essentially a rebound girl for the Catholic Church that still closes its eyes and pictures John Paul II during genuflection) is going to make a few more winking gestures to welcome Nazi sympathizers back into the fold and say a few more crazy things about condoms spreading HIV, all the while stroking his furry Prada muffler, and there will be an open movement to dump him. . . He will forestall this by speeding up the fast track to declare his predecessor a saint and the Church will forget what it was saying, sigh softly, and pretend they’re not still thinking of JPII when they’re looking at whats-his-name.

I’m not saying I can predict everything. For instance, I definitely missed the psychic boat about that week when the news was dominated by pirates. Nor did I anticipate the trip down memory lane with Swine Flu. (Although both of these events lead me to suspect that we may soon be at the mercy of killer bees and Legionnaire’s Disease.) But this I will never yield on: I totally called the Jenny McCarthy thing.