“When I want to watch my tabloid stories now,” says Kearns, “I’ll watch the ‘Today’ show. There’s no better tabloid team than Matt Lauer and Katie Couric.”

This may come as news to anyone who thinks tabloid TV was, in its purest form, all about Elvis sightings and ax murders. But for Kearns, who is in New York promoting his book “Tabloid Baby,” an amusing if somewhat self-serving account of his years in the business, most people just don’t get it. And that includes many of the programmers who imitated and co-opted the brass-tacks style of his early shows. “Nobody is covering those stories the way we covered them,” he complains. “They’re doing it the network way. They’ll do a story on a UFO cult and cut to Keith Morrison at NBC and he’s rolling his eyes. They still look down on people.”

Kearns doesn’t look that different from any number of Los Angeles TV producers. An affable, good-looking man in his early 40s, he’s talking to me between appearing on a panel on tabloid TV and doing a radio interview. Appropriately, he has chosen Langan’s — an Irish bar in midtown Manhattan frequented by New York Post writers — for our interview; so much of “Tabloid Baby” (which covers the period from Kearns’ 1989 arrival at Fox’s “A Current Affair” to the cancellation of Paramount’s “Hard Copy” earlier this year) floats by on a sea of vodka. And Steven Dunleavy, a Mephistophelean character in Kearns’ book, writes a column for the Post now. In fact, during the interview he appears at the bar as if conjured and signals the barman for a refill while lighting a Parliament.

“Joey Adams died today,” says Dunleavy solemnly in his Aussie accent. He’s wearing a corduroy jacket that nearly matches the color of his tan, and he sports a Porter Wagoner-style pompadour.

“No shit?” says Kearns. Adams, husband of Post gossip columnist Cindy Adams and aggregator (if not author) of a million one-liners, had been ill for some time. “Cindy was supposed to be on this panel with me last night but said she had family business.”

There is a beat before he adds: “At least it was a real excuse.”

With its hard drinking and quick cynicism, the world that “Tabloid Baby” limns is a sort of throwback to yellow journalism’s days of yore. “In the worldview of ‘A Current Affair,’” Kearns writes, “people didnt insult the Church, and sex was naughty — the word unsaid, only spelled out, S-E-X — values needed to be upheld, and all offensive images needed to be shown in as explicit detail as the lawyers would allow.”

This combination of titillation and hypocrisy was imported from Australia by Rupert Murdoch, who staked his claim to the States when he purchased 20th Century Fox and the Metromedia TV stations in the mid-’80s and formed the Fox Broadcasting Corp. And when he needed news magazines, he didn’t look to “60 Minutes” as a role model. He called on some of the same Aussie journalists who had reinvented the print tabloids for him there — men like Dunleavy and Peter Brennan.

It is Brennan whom Kearns credits with splitting the atom of the tabloid-TV formula. “Now, you get back from a story, what happens?” Brennan would ask his charges. “You talk to people. You go to a bar and your friends say, ‘What were they really like? What really happened?’ If you give an answer that wasn’t in the story, if the viewer or your mother can ask what the people in your story are really like, you’ve told the typical television version of the story. ‘A Current Affair’ tries to do the story between the lines and turn it into lines.”

For Kearns, who came to Fox from WNBC, this new way of reporting was liberating. “In the so-called legitimate news,” Kearns tells me, “the idea was to make sure you have the same story everyone else does and make sure you cover it the same way, and make sure you have what everyone else has. With ‘A Current Affair,’ you’d walk in each morning and say, ‘What’s the most interesting story going on right now?’”

And according to Kearns, they didn’t take their lead from the supermarket tabloids, either. The “Current Affair” staff scanned hundreds of newspapers for offbeat stories. They broke a map of the United States into five sections, like the five boroughs of New York, and assigned reporters to cover each. And, OK, they pissed off a number of celebrities in the process.

“It was never journalism,” Kearns says of what they were doing. “It was what the Australians would call a piss-take on journalism.” And it was much safer — and more just — to “take the piss” out of public figures like Steven Spielberg, whose divorce from Amy Irving got the “Current Affair” treatment, including clips from “Jaws” that equated interloper Kate Capshaw with Bruce the Shark. This resulted in a phone call from Spielberg to Fox studio head Barry Diller, which Kearns interprets as follows:

“Hello, Steven!”

“Barry, if I live to be 90, I will never do a movie for Fox.”

Kearns estimates that cost the company around $500 million.

In an effort to infuse the show with some semblance of respectability, Murdoch sent Anthea Disney to police the troops. Disney had worked her way up through the ranks of Murdoch’s empire, starting as a Fleet Street reporter. She cultivated a tough-cookie persona (I worked for her myself at another venture) and she put the “Current Affair” staff on notice. She told Variety that she was under orders to make the show “more New York magazine and less New York Post.” Kearns, who had advanced to executive producer, saw the writing on the wall and resigned to go to Hollywood and join the rival tabloid show, “Hard Copy.”

Disney is one of many who may not be pleased at how they are depicted in “Tabloid Baby.” Her stated desire to class up “A Current Affair” clashed with some of the excesses that occurred on her watch — most notably Steve Dunleavy’s payment to a witness in the William Kennedy Smith trial. (The $40,000 he paid to Anne Mercer, who drove Smith’s alleged victim from the Kennedy mansion that night, caused Mercer’s testimony to be discredited. “I have to thank Steve Dunleavy for what he did with Anne Mercer,” Smith’s attorney said when his client went free.)

Kearns is not above floating a few old rumors about Disney’s marital problems and personal life in his book, and says that she tried to keep it from getting published. “She was running HarperCollins at the time,” he says. “She’d seen the book. It went to her company. She didn’t want it published. I don’t hold that against her.”

“Bullshit,” says Disney, who is now vice president of content at News Corp.
“I never saw his book and wasn’t aware that it came to HarperCollins. It
makes a much better story to say that someone tried to stop your book than
to say that no one wanted to publish it.”

The Kennedy Smith saga was a “Hard Copy” exclusive at first; “A Current Affair” and “Inside Edition” tried to take the high road. “And the network guys didn’t understand that it was news,” says Kearns. “Shows how wrong they were. And it showed how little sleazy tabloid stories can turn into news. It ignited the whole debate on date rape, naming the victims in rape trials.” (It’s worth noting that the New York Times was one of the first papers to identify Smith’s accuser by name.) “And then, months later, when Clarence Thomas was up for the Supreme Court judgeship, and he got involved in the thing with Anita Hill, Teddy Kennedy, the great voice of liberalism, couldn’t open his mouth because he’d been shamed in this case.”

One could argue that almost any Kennedy story can be made into tabloid fodder without turning the dial too far, what with that big back story of family tragedy and misadventure. The first real crossover tabloid story of the ’90s broke on May 10, 1992, when Amy Fisher shot Mary Jo Buttafuoco in Massapequa, N.Y. It had all the elements of a true-life soap — the clueless wife, the loutish Lothario, the mystery vixen — save one.

“There was no one in the story you could feel sorry for,” says Kearns, “no one that you could identify with. In every tabloid story there is one character — you see [the story] through that person’s eyes, you identify with that person. In the Buttafuoco story you couldn’t identify with the victim.” As the story morphed and grew, with new revelations every week and more and more perfidy captured on tape, the nation reached saturation. Even People magazine now seemed to subsist on the “Long Island Lolita.” We had become a tabloid nation.

O.J. Simpson, of course, gave us victims we could identify with and a slow train wreck of a trial that was virtually inescapable. The “tabloid babies” of Kearns’ narrative had crossed over to the networks (even as some network people went in the other direction). The first time “Nightline” covered the murders, five days after Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman were killed, Ted Koppel apologized; when the ratings went through the roof, he quit saying he was sorry.

Soon it was all O.J., all the time, from Regis and Kathie Lee in the morning to Jay Leno jokes at night. The trial itself took center stage and tabloid TV as practiced by Kearns and company seemed downright quaint. “When the world was watching from their offices live,” he says, “we were repackaging it with alliteration and music — who needs that shit?”

Today, in place of “Hard Copy” and “A Current Affair,” we have “Dateline,” “60 Minutes II,” “20/20″ and “48 Hours” — and that’s just on the networks. Kearns wrote some pilots and cast about for a new project. His collected notes came together in “Tabloid Baby,” which he is promoting now with the help of his wife, Allison Holloway, another veteran of the scene. He doesn’t come out and say that he couldn’t get arrested after a career in tabloid television, though he admits his prospects looked dim. His last project was for Fox: “When Pets Go Bad II.” I ask him how people come up with ideas like that.

“You walk into a room, it’s like the monkeys with the typewriters,” he says. “It’s full of video monitors and people are transcribing every piece of video in the world. And they might find they have 10 great pieces of video of animals attacking people — ‘When Pets Go Bad!’” Voila.

A lot of it is in the packaging — like that film of a donkey sexually assaulting a man whom the beast had found defecating in his pasture. “Fox has always wanted to air it but never could,” Kearns claims. “Every time someone presented it to them they would put on ragtime music and sound effects — ‘Boing!’ I saw it and was horrified. This makes ‘Oz’ look like ‘Touched by an Angel.’ It was horrific. So I played it very straight and put some scary music behind it — ‘This man is invading the territory of an animal …’”

For the holidays they had footage of a Santa being attacked by one of his reindeer. It was a reenactment, actually. The injured Santa was demonstrating how he’d been attacked, but things went badly. “He was screaming, ‘Help!’” Kearns recalls, nursing the last of his beer. “We thought he was doing it for the camera but, no, he was bloody. It rated very well.”

Their findings grabbed attention not just in the UK but across the Atlantic, where headlines in the New York Times, Washington Post and Murdoch’s own Wall Street Journal must have made uncomfortable reading for News Corp. staff and shareholders.

The committee’s judgment carries no threat of sanction, but with lawsuits pending in the US over hacking and the threat of possible prosecution under the powerful Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, it will offer little in the way of reassurance.

Having conceded that the British parliamentary inquiry was right to highlight “serious wrongdoings” at the now defunct News of the World title, News Corp. took issue with the “unjustified and highly partisan” verdict on its boss.

Murdoch himself issued a statement to staff admitting mistakes but declaring that “our business has never been stronger.” News Corp.’s board also issued a statement saying it had “full confidence” in its CEO and chairman.

However, with criticism of Murdoch continuing to mount in the UK, questions were being raised as to what extent the report would harm his business interests both here and in the United States, with some shareholders suggesting it was time to shift power out of Murdoch’s hands.

A day after the report, elements of his $50 billion media empire appeared to be attempting to distance themselves from Murdoch, not just by prominently reporting the committee’s scathing assessment, but by explicitly stating their independence of his command.

There was speculation that a small surge in News Corp. share prices in the wake of Tuesday’s verdict reflected anticipation that the company would soon divest itself of its troubled UK newspaper titles and set wheels in motion to reduce Murdoch’s influence over the company.

Rupert Murdoch is “finished in the United Kingdom,” wrote Michael Wolff, author of “The Man Who Owns the News,” an unauthorized biography of the News Corp. founder. “Understanding that Britain is a lost front, he will retreat to his U.S. stronghold. From New York, the process of disposing of the British papers, which, by reliable insider accounts, has begun, will hasten.”

Of primary concern in the UK is whether the “not a fit person” verdict will have any impact on a separate inquiry by British communications industry regulator Ofcom over whether News Corp. is a “fit and proper” owner of a lucrative 39.1 percent stake in prominent broadcaster BSkyB.

Any decision that would force News Corp. to offload its BSkyB holding would be a considerable blow to the media giant, which had hoped to buy the broadcaster outright but later abandoned the deal after the phone hacking scandal inflamed opposition.

On Wednesday, BSkyB’s chief executive, Jeremy Darroch, used the publication of record financial results to disassociate his company from Murdoch and — clearly wary of the threat to its prized broadcast license — talk up its annual $1.6 billion tax contribution to the British economy.

“I would emphasize that it’s important to remember that Sky and News Corporation are separate companies,” he told reporters. “We believe that Sky’s track record as a broadcaster is the most important factor in determining our fitness to hold a license.”

Aware of the potential damage his presence could bring to the company, Murdoch’s son James last month stood down as chairman of BSkyB, saying he didn’t want to be a “lightning rod” for criticism over the hacking scandal.

Speculation is now mounting over whether the News Corp. brand will also be vulnerable to critical, financial and legal thunderbolts if Murdoch senior resists shareholder efforts to usher him into a backseat role.

“I think you have to be careful about extrapolating from what has been an appalling set of circumstances around one newspaper group … to the continuing demise of News Corp.,” said Charlie Beckett, director of Polis, a media and society think tank at the London School of Economics.

Beckett said that while the parliamentary verdict would certainly cast a shadow over any News Corp. deals, mergers or takeovers in the future, there was nothing inevitable about the demise of the company or its subsidiaries.

Likewise, he said that while there was support for scaling down Murdoch’s control over News Corp., shareholders would also bear in mind the fact that the media tycoon’s sharp business acumen has consistently paid dividends, regardless of any questions of ethical culpability.

“There are some people who would welcome the defamiliarization of the company, but you could also argue that this is a guy who has an extraordinary track record on delivering profit,” he told GlobalPost.

Beckett said that plans would already have been in place to arrange a succession of command, and while these may now be fast tracked down from five years to two, News Corp. would be unwise to proceed with too much haste.

“It’s in everyone’s interest for the thing to not fall apart in the next year or two. Even those people who want Murdoch to recede don’t want him to jump out of the top floor. That would be far too destabilizing.”

Now, Murdoch appears to be fighting back.

He and his son James were in the U.K. this week to face the Leveson inquiry, a judicial investigation into press standards, begun last year in the wake of revelations that journalists at Murdoch’s U.K. titles illegally hacked the voice mails of prominent public figures.

This time, he and his family appear to have turned on the British establishment, pressuring Prime Minister David Cameron and putting a key minister in the spotlight over a controversial business deal.

In his evidence on Tuesday, James Murdoch released documents that appeared to show that Jeremy Hunt, a media minister charged with examining a $13.4 billion bid by Murdoch’s News Corp. for full control of British Sky Broadcasting, had secretly helped to progress the deal.

The revelations sent Cameron’s government into a tailspin. Cameron pledged to stand by Hunt — who is overseeing the 2012 Olympics — while Hunt himself was forced to defend his actions to Parliament, denying claims he gave News Corp. a “back channel” of influence over the bid.

In an attempt to limit the damage, Hunt’s advisor Adam Smith — a key link in communications with James Murdoch — tendered his resignation at the same time that a relaxed-looking Murdoch senior was taking the stand to deny he held any sway over Britain’s politicians.

News Corp.’s bid to buy BSkyB was ruled out last year in the wake of the phone-hacking scandal, an outcome that soured the once-cordial relations between Murdoch and Cameron. This breakdown appears to have set the tone for Murdoch’s reappearance.

Even before giving evidence at the Leveson inquiry, Rupert Murdoch appeared to be on the offensive against the government. Last month he took to Twitter to complain about “old toffs and right wingers” — a likely dig at the British establishment.

More followed when he arrived in London last weekend. In one tweet he criticizes the economic policies of Cameron’s government. “Govt sending IMF another ten bn to he euro. Must be mad,” he wrote.

Murdoch’s offensive and the question mark over Hunt couldn’t come at a worse time for Cameron. His government is already under fire for provoking a recent fuel crisis and for a financial budget that was derided in Parliament as an “omnishambles.”

A recent poll showed the ruling Conservatives have lost their command over the main opposition Labour Party, largely as a consequence of the budget.

To make matters worse for Cameron, it was announced on Wednesday that Britain had slumped back into recession despite forecasts of economic recovery.

But, despite his tweets, Murdoch insists he hasn’t been gunning for the government. Asked by Leveson counsel Richard Jay if “rumors” were true that he had not forgiven Cameron, he said they were not. He added: “Don’t take my tweets too seriously.”

Speculation had been rife that Murdoch would use his Leveson appearance to launch a “slash and burn” offensive, as one commentator put it. Some speculated his revelations could take direct aim at Cameron, possibly making the prime minister’s position untenable.

The Brookses were arrested, along with four others, “on suspicion of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice.” This was the second time Rebekah Brooks, the former editor of the Sun and the now-shuttered News of the World, had been arrested — the last time it was for conspiring to intercept communications, or “phone hacking” — and this arrest suggests that News International’s extensive efforts to cover up their unethical practices may end up damaging the company just as much as the unethical practices did.

Brooks’ newspapers gathered a great deal of news by illicitly listening to the voice-mail messages of celebrities and members of the royal family and murder victims. They also had a private investigator on contract to do other law-violating things, and they had a bribery budget that would make most American newspaper publishers jealous. Once Murdoch’s British newspaper empire faced civil, criminal and Parliamentary inquiries, they went on an email-destroying binge. They have since become much more cooperative, but deleting half a terabyte worth of emails to and from executives and destroying computers used by journalists under investigation is really not a sound legal strategy.

James Murdoch, still the News Corp. heir apparent, has written a note of apology to members of Parliament. He owes them an apology because the recoverable emails among the deleted cache strongly indicate that he lied to Parliament about his awareness of the extent of phone hacking. James has also essentially fled the country, having resigned from his father’s British newspapers company and taken a job at his American-based international pay television company.

Meanwhile, British Prime Minister David Cameron is in the middle of his well-publicized state visit to the United States. Barack Obama has taken him to a “basketball match,” which Cameron found “hard to follow.” The right-leaning U.K. papers have been extremely overexcited in their coverage of the PM’s visit, because, again, national insecurity.

Cameron was surely thrilled to be out of the country when the Brookses got collared. They’re neighbors and close personal friends. Charlie Brooks and Cameron go way back — they attended Eton together, and as equally ridiculous posh stereotypes they got along famously — and earlier this month it was revealed that Cameron had ridden a retired police horse that the Met had for some reason given to Rebekah Brooks. (The only way the ensuing scandal could’ve been more British is if it had involved a Tory MP and a dominatrix.)

Speaking of horses, Charlie Brooks has one running in a race today. As the Guardian noted, he had a column published the day he was arrested in which he said, tragically, that “the happiest moment of my year is about three hours before the first race at Cheltenham on Tuesday.”

As for old Rupert himself, he hasn’t tweeted anything since Saturday. But he assured employees at the Sun that they’re in the clear, and he’s headed to London to perform damage control. His British newspapers hold a special place in his heart, making it a bit poignant — or hilarious, depending on your perspective — that that tiny arm of his vast international empire is the one that is currently destroying everything he’s spent a lifetime building.

The Guardian is delightfully liveblogging the meeting, which is handy, because News Corp. banned all cameras and recording devices. Audio of the meeting was streaming on the News Corp. corporate site for investors or those willing to claim to be investors on a registration page, but it just ended while they hold their shareholder votes. As he took questions, Murdoch sounded much more involved and feisty than he did in his confused appearance before Parliament earlier this summer. “I’d hate to call you a liar, but I know exactly how you’re going to vote,” he said to a hostile questioner who claimed to have not yet made up his mind.

Watson rehashed the various criminal complaints against News Corp. and added allegations of computer hacking. Others complained about Murdoch’s management of the corporation as a sort of personal fiefdom, with nepotism rampant. One guy wanted to talk about animal rights for a while.

Media Matters has the audio of Watson’s questioning:

Murdoch is not in much danger of losing his company. As Reuters says, he has 40 percent control of voting shares, and next largest holder is Murdoch ally and Saudi Prince Alwaleed bin Talai. But the L.A. Times suggests News Corp. president Chase Carey could end up being promoted to CEO.

There are three crucial votes: The vote to reelect Murdoch and the rest of the board, the vote to cut Murdoch’s pay, and a vote to specifically force Murdoch to step down. He’ll probably win all three but the votes could be close enough to force the board to make some changes. And in the longer term, this could ruin Murdoch’s plan to have one of his kids run the company some day. (Son Lachlan having failed, Rupert still has to choose between Elisabeth and James.)

All the “media watchdogs” in the world will never remove Murdoch from power or shame him into changing his business practices, but once major institutional investors revolt, there’s a serious possibility of the end of the Murdoch era. Money, as always, speaks loudest.

That touched off a storm of public outrage that rocked Murdoch’s media empire and ricocheted through Britain’s political, police and media establishments.

“Nothing that has been agreed will ever bring back Milly or undo the traumas of her disappearance and the horrendous murder trial earlier this year,” the Dowlers said in the statement. “The only way that a fitting tribute could be agreed was to ensure that a very substantial donation to charity was made in Milly’s memory. We hope that projects will be undertaken so that some good can come from this.”

Murdoch met with the Dowlers in July to personally apologize to the family, saying he was “appalled” to have discovered what happened.

In the statement Friday, he said he hoped something positive can be done in memory of Milly.

“The behavior that the News of the World exhibited towards the Dowlers was abhorrent and I hope this donation underscores my regret for the company’s role in this awful event,” he said.

The revelation that reporters eavesdropped on Milly Dowler’s voice mail messages while police were searching for her — and mounting evidence that phone hacking was routine at the newspaper — scandalized the British public.

In a letter to lawmakers disclosed Thursday, Surrey Police Chief Constable Mark Rowley acknowledged that his force knew as far back as April 2002 that someone working for the News of the World had accessed Dowler’s voice mail, giving false hope to the missing teen’s family and potentially interfering with the investigation into her disappearance.

The phone hacking scandal has forced the resignation of two of London’s top police officers, ousted executives at Murdoch’s News Corp. and claimed the job of Prime Minister David Cameron’s former spin doctor, Andy Coulson, an ex-News of the World editor.

Murdoch’s global News Corp. has expressed contrition, launched an internal inquiry and set aside 20 million pounds ($32 million) to compensate victims, who could number in their hundreds.

Still, the News Corp. CEO is under pressure. On Friday, he will face shareholders with small stakes in his company for the first time since the phone-hacking scandal broke in July.

British lawmaker Tom Watson, one of Murdoch’s fiercest British critics, traveled to Los Angeles to attend the annual general meeting and has said he plans to use the event to reveal new details of what he claims are covert surveillance techniques by company employees.

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Associated Press writer Jill Lawless contributed to this report.

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Cassandra Vinograd can be reached at http://twitter.com/CassVinograd