Palin is Stone Cold Crazy

**Republished from Citysearch**Just Fuck Off

It’s half-past-nine Pacific Time when I’m sure I feel the chill of the Sonoran Desert fall. “It’s as cold as a grave digger’s ass”, check I tell a travelling companion, more about whose evening cocktail quota does not quite equal mine. “The weather’s fine”, she tells me as two LA hipsters walk by the window wearing little but their Ray Bans.

She’s right. It’s not the bite of the Palm Springs night that’s freezing me to the core; this town, I’m told, is almost always hot. Rather, it’s the thought of a mad bint with permafrost hair, glacial politics and a heart as warm as stone breezing into the Oval Office. Hello, Sarah Palin. Hello again.

This past Sunday, five million Americans and I felt a cold wind blowing. Shown across the US on the TLC network, Sarah Palin’s Alaska is a campaign launch thinly disguised as a travel-reality hybrid. And its central figure, Palin, is Satan’s most ambitious handmaiden thinly disguised as a Hockey Mom.

Now, I don’t want to talk politics, here. First, whenever I do, the hit-count on my blog slows to the pace of the average American colon. Second, I’m on vacation at a resort with three salt water pools, 17 masseuses and an encyclopaedic cocktail list that I’m determined to learn by rote before I get to LA. Politics schmolitics. But. Seriously. There is a very real danger that this Grizzly Bear could claw her way to the Presidency; so you, me and every sane citizen of a US-allied nation must immediately contact Richard Branson and petition him for tickets to the moon in 2012.

Left, right or libertarian; anyone, surely, with a brain that allows the simultaneous functions of breathing and chewing gum can tell that this woman is an amoeba. An amoeba with a hunting licence, a stockpile of CFC hairspray and a husband whose nuts have been crushed to spreadable paste. During last Sunday’s debut of Sarah Palin’s Alaska, former “first dude” Todd utters about 10 words. His fabulously telegenic wife compensates for this lack by uttering words at Iditarod speed. However, many of these words were made up. She didn’t come up with a clanger to equal “refudiate” . She did, however, take us to her porch (presumably the one from which she saw Russia) and told us that this was the premier site for her “researching”. This “researching” by the way, seems not to require newspaper, book or mobile enabled device.

Sarah climbed up glaciers. Sarah introduced us to bears. Sarah told us that even a bad day of salmon fishing was better ‘n the best day of work. Call me crazy, but this attitude to leisure is not one I prefer in a world leader. And, come to that, campaign launches in the form of Reality TV on a network that also broadcasts a program called I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant (which I’ve seen and have renamed I Didn’t Know I Had Opposable Thumbs) don’t strike me as terribly statesmanlike, either.

Nonetheless, Palin is inches away from a Primary victory. She has monumental GOP support, the ability to say things that ring out as folksy and true and a cute little kid called Piper who is yet, unlike many of the other Palin daughters, to fall pregnant.

Oh, America. Why would you let this happen? You’d be far better off choosing the spa director at my Palm Springs resort as your Republican nominee. At least then you might enjoy subsidised spray tans.

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