Whoops, I'm Sarah Palin.
From the first time I saw Sarah Palin– before we even knew about the pregnant teenage daughter (not that there’s anything wrong with that…), or the moose-hunting, or the… everything– I knew that I didn’t like her. I read “Blink,” everybody, and now I know that I should trust my gut. (When you blog about snacks, you have to trust your gut.)
I knew that I intensely disliked her, and I also knew that I was going to have to hear about her for… the rest of my life. Oh, great. Perfect.
The weird thing about these purges is that I’m featuring people I really hate to think about. Every day I have to come up with something I never want to see again, Google it, look at pictures of it, and waste my precious moments on it. The things that I strongly dislike are contributing to my future struggles with debilitating carpal tunnel. When I’m dictating my text into one of those terrible voice-recognition programs and “I hate to bathe” gets typed out as “I hearth to bat&incsp,” Sarah Palin will be partially to blame.
But overall it will be my fault, for choosing to do this. For being born in this time period of terrible things. For being born at all, actually, because if I lived in 1775 I’d probably be ink-quilling a hundred parchments about purging King George and handing them out in the local tavern. But in 1775 I’d have to kill myself once the carpal tunnel kicked in, because I need to write. It’s my thing.
So really, this is my parents’ fault, for giving birth to me. When you play the blame game, everyone loses (or everyone wins, depending on whether your glass is half empty of hall full). The blame game is an ouroboros, eating its own tail. (That’s one of my favorite allusions. You’d best learn about it if you want to keep up.)
Can we purge Sarah Palin from our lives? Probably not. Her family is reproducing with higher volume and frequency than mine, and will probably help to usher in the Idiocracy that we all saw in the movie “Idiocracy.” I’m pretty sure that movie is a documentary from the future, sent to us as an urgent warning. It’s the “An Inconvenient Truth” of the year 3025.
We can’t stop the media from reporting about Sarah Palin, but we can ignore her and/or laugh at everything she says and never, ever vote for her. That, we can do. And later we can make a very successful Mel Brooks-style movie lambasting her, which will be turned into a musical, which will be turned into a much less successful movie.
So far we’re doing good, not voting for her. Well, the majority of us are not voting for her, and that’s what counts. And she’s also doing her part, stepping down from the seat that she WAS elected to hold. (I’m very suspicious about that move.) Because quitters never quit, and Sarah Palin is not a quitter. Or something like that. It’s Thursday. My brain hurts.
You know what? I decided who to blame. I blame John McCain. There’s a little word you need to know, John McCain: vetting. No, not the kind of vetting as in the verbified form of the person to whom you bring your endangered wolf when Sarah Palin shoots it from an airplane (or a helicopter? or both at once?). The kind of vetting that means that you don’t choose Sarah Palin, because she was the mayor of Meth-sylvania. And you didn’t know that. I bet you didn’t even know her kids’ names. (To be fair, who does? Trip? Trigger? Tiger? Trite? Tranny?)
I have been to Alaska, and it’s a lovely, lovely place. Even the fake-hooker actors (maybe real hookers, at night) hanging out of the saloon windows in Skagway seemed like delightful individuals (I know a fairly devout Mormon girl who spent a summer appearing in one of those revues… hope she invited her stake!). Big ups to Alaska. You survived Sarah Palin. Enjoy getting drilled, or whatever comes next for you.
Please, join me in spewing out of a helicopter/plane until our stomachs lose that uneasy “Is she really going to run for President? Could she win?!?!” feeling. We can fly to Russia and purge all over ourselves while waving at Sarah Palin, who will be watching us from her roof-deck. Let us boycott Sarah Palin, the same way that she boycotts logical thinking and speech-making skills.
Oh, that feels better. Breathe in, breathe out. Think about Tina Fey. Let’s eat some salmon for dinner– some UPSTREAM salmon. Downstream salmon is for quitters. And quitters never quit.
xoxo….
PS I realize that I haven’t even fully outlined all of the terrible things about Sarah Palin, but I am not here to prove that she is terrible. At this point, thinking that Sarah Palin is stupid is probably (and should be) a bipartisan sentiment. But really, this isn’t a legitimate political forum. It’s a vomitorium.
Word.