Someone won’t stop hitting the Sarah Palin panic button at McCain headquarters and the giant screeching noise is giving me a headache
When all this Republican caterwauling over Sarah Palin ruining everything began a few weeks ago little did I know that it would get this far.
For the first time since never, a political party has begun its “pre-blame game” for a loss that hasn’t even taken place yet.
I blame the yellow bellies of The George Will Revolt. They kicked off this kvetching, leading to multitudes of smarty-pants, conservative-to-moderate noodle-noses balking over marching to the Sarah Palin drum.
They’d choked down their George W. Bush Boones Farm and pretended like it was Chablis, but they were not sucking down this latest batch of Palin Political-Wine-in-A-Box.
They went to Harvard. They are simply better than this … all of a sudden.
Watching columnists, politicos, pundits and authors suddenly bolt from the McCain-Palin Pox has been amazing. Individuals who normally would have held their noses and voted McCain for King of America for All Eternity over “pick-a-Democrat-any-Democrat” are scrunchie-faced because they refuse to share a cheerleading section with Elisabeth Hasselbeck and Kellyanne Fitzpatrick Conway. The nerve!
Then there are the staffers, the back-biting, shark-jumping, whiny staffers, leaking words like “whack job” and “diva” to the press, who are basically accusing Palin of being the causation of the entire downfall of the ticket, party and possibly the industrial world. She just cruised in wearing a tiara and playing a flute, taking a wrecking ball to it all.
Really, noodle-noses? Really?
While I can’t stand anything about Gov. Palin, the Maybe it’s a pitbull, Maybe it’s Maybelline cadidate, is not the cause of The Great GOP Panic of 2008.
She is a mere symptom.
The “panic” is a McCain-Bush production based purely on Bush having the opposite of the Midas touch and McCain tying himself to Bush post-2004 when the senator finally stopped hating Junior just long enough to realize he wanted to be president that badly.
Let’s be real here — John McCain PICKED Sarah Palin. Palin did not hop on Todd’s snow machine with her five kids, future grandchild, governorship, a six pack of Schlitz and a sawed off shotgun (hand on pump, of course) and demand Mr. Walnut Cheeks to put her on the ticket. She was chillin’ in Anchorage where no one knew her from Adam as the longest of longshots while Mitt Romney, Tim Pawlenty and Charlie Crist took turns holding the bowl of ice water McCain soaks his balls in while reciting the most famous line from Grey’s Anatomy over and over: “Pick me. Choose me. Love me.”
It didn’t matter if they’d seen McCain and Sen. Joe Lieberman holding hands the other day. McCain needed a pro-lifer and everyone in that trio loved life … especially if it began and ended on Pennsylvania Avenue. Crist was willing to enter a loveless marriage … with a woman! It was that serious! So poor pitiful McCain had options and he went with a little Northern Lights “Razzle Dazzle.”
Now Gov. Crist has extended poll hours in Florida from eight-a-day to 12. Apparently he is ignoring his “please do your best to suppress the vote turnout” memo.
But if the McCain campaign thinks Palin is some hick albatross they can to dress up to the tune of $150,000 only to hang this screeching, screaming, faltering massive Republican freak-out on her, they are sadly mistaken. No sir! You will NOT blame the Caribou Barbie for this! Every time you point one finger at the failed sportscaster you point three more back at you.
If I were Sarah Palin, I’d be looking out for number one like I legally changed my name to Ocho Cinco. She may not be an intellectual, but she’s no numb-nuts. She can see the-powers-that-be within the McCain campaign measuring the noose for “a long drop with a short stop” just for her after the election. Why not go rogue when you know John McCain was only using you as disgruntled Clintonista/Jesus Freak bait anyway? It’s Operation Chaos, baby. Yukon style.
Palin is doing one of my favorite “wronged woman” routines — The Bitch Who Would Not Die. (Sometimes also known as The Bitch Who Would Not Leave. Just think Angelina Jolie in every movie she’s ever been in and of Jennifer Holiday singing “And I Am Telling You” from the original Broadway production of Dreamgirls.)
The phrase refers to that point in the book, soap opera, movie or life story where everyone has decided that a particular woman is horrible and should just go away for the bettermint of everyone, but that woman looks back and screams nothing but Efie White until she either gets carted away or starts getting AWESOME.
Now, I don’t want this to go “awesome” for Palin. I want this to end with her vice presidential dreams dying quite abruptly on Nov. 4. But until then, I want to see her go out in a psychotic blaze of glory. Don’t wait for General Sherman and his army to show up and burn
your proverbial Atlanta to the ground when you can torch that sucker yourself! Burn, baby, burn, Sarah Palin! Go so “Rogue*” you start hanging out with Stan Lee, wearing yellow and green jumpsuits. Dye a long white streak in your auburn hair and accessorize all your Anchorage consignment shop suits with full-length leather gloves as you purge the posh money Republicans, centrists and Colin Powells from the party.
There’s only one way McCain can make the potential election loss on stick to My Fair Veep. McCain would have to capitulate again, join The George Will Revolt, denounce himself and cheer on as the GOP burns with Palin as the last woman standing, fatally destroying her chances of a second act.
Of course, McCain quitting would STILL make her crashing and burning and going “oh what a world!” John McCain’s fault, but it might distract a few people.
Or he could concede. I suggest he consider it.
*And, yes. That is my second X-Men reference for the week. And, yes, when not being a snob, I am a nerd. And no, Todd cannot be Gambit even if Todd kind of looks like Gambit with short hair. He’s not from the Bayou and he’s not Cajun and I’ve revealed enough of my nerdom for TODAY!