Publishing is a rough game and has a long memory. The gentleman who forgot that he didn't receive food at the wire of a concentration camp not only forgot it once on Oprah, but twice. Twice he went onto the biggest media platform in the world and repeated his story. Then he forgot when he signed the movie deal, the book deal and the host of other goodies that go along with the slam dunk of the literary world. Then he remembered when he got busted. He is older. There is a picture of him and his wife. Nice couple. He is now spinning the canard that he just wanted to make the world a better place. PLEASE. Ok. We understand he saw a moment of glory when he entered the same story in a literary contest and won ten years ago. Then he really blew his socks off when Oprah called. He went from king of Bridge to insta-celeb. Everyone was calling. Agents, publishers, producers, go man go! His life up to this point had been a sleepy walk of normalcy. Then WHAM! Just a small lie and he is in the stratosphere of fame and fortune. Then...busted. Now he whined that "He just wanted to bring a little happiness to the world."BULL#%&*. What he wanted was a little fame and a little fortune. Not to be blamed for avarice or the white hot light of the spotlight--but to think he can turn back into the lovable codger...I don't think so. Like James Frey and every one else, there was another woman from Yale who plagiarized a novel--he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Alright. He tried and blew it. Take thy medicine, but don't whine about being Gandhi and things just got out of hand. This gentleman has already signed with another house that will turn his tale into fiction. Fiction would ascribe a higher purpose. I think the only higher purpose here would be for the gain of the man who lied.