Why I’m Voting For Sarah Palin
by James Killough
I’m kidding. Sheesh. Relax. I don’t vote, for two reasons: 1) the American political process bores me because it’s usually much the same of the same old shit, although the Obama/Hillary run-off did get my attention; 2) as long as the Electoral College is in place and disasters like the 2000 election can happen as a result, I don’t believe we live in a true democracy.
“But what about your civic duty, James?” you ask, wrapping your toga tightly around you in a snit. To which I reply, “My civic duty is my non-vote of protest.” And I feel I have more effect writing these words than ruining a perfectly crisp morning in November by standing in line for hours waiting to cast my drop in the bucket. As long as I live, I will never let America rest on its self-satisfied, jingoistic laurels, never let it get away with unjustified warmongering, or large-scale financial corruption. To do so would be un-American.
To me, democracy is straightforward: the majority of the people, i.e., the “popular vote,” selects whomever they want to lead them. Boom. Simple. Just because ignorant, gun-toting “folk” with obesity problems in the Flyover States feel they are inadequately represented doesn’t excuse institutionalizing a subversion of a true democratic process with the Electoral College. The more educated populations on the coasts should elect the president because we are more numerous and smarter. If it’s so important to you, then drop your weapons, adjust your diet and move to Philadelphia.
Yes, there are certain aspects of America that are laudable because of their representation of diversity, but many of those “diverse” aspects are also plain embarrassing, and I won’t enumerate them because they are as manifest to any thinking person as our destiny once was, a destiny we seem to have already fulfilled and are now losing grip on; our fat, entitled fingers can’t hold onto it any more.
And the two-party system? Indeed, it is a system, one which allows the plutocracy that really controls this nation to rig the elections in one direction while pretending there are two directions, without things getting too diverse in any real sense. Someone like me, for instance, is completely unrepresented, and I’m not uneducated, I’ve never fired a gun, and I’m not fat, despite the eight pounds I seem to have attracted like a stalker the past two months. So where’s my Electoral vote?
Indian politics, on the other hand, fascinate me. India is the world’s largest democracy, they have so many political parties they have to put letters in brackets after the names to distinguish one from the other, and they have wild names like All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam. Take a quick look at the full list here. Just scroll down and gasp. There are so many, I can’t seem to get a clear answer from Our Lord Google, God of Everything and Everything Else, as to what the exact tally is.
Indian politics are an endless mud-wrestling match, a 24/7 WWE Smackdown confettied with multi-hued holi powders, which isn’t in the least bit faked. Forget democracy, this is true diversity in action, not some exercise in how we can make our culture even more homogenized than it already is, as if our political process needs to have the sameness of experience that all Great American Brands aim to deliver to their consumers.
On that note, one can never repeat too often the quotation by the late, great chain-smoking Bill Hicks:
“Go back to bed, America, your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed America, your government is in control.”
So that’s one of the reasons I’m voting for Palin, but by “voting” I mean I’m cheering her on in the Great Smackdown because she’s shakin’ it up and makin’ it real. She’s briskly whisking tangy diversity into the political meringue like Martha Stewart stiffening egg whites. Yeah, she’s going to hobble the Republican Party and in general be as much a nuisance as Ross Perot was during the 1992 presidential election, but she is already so much fun to watch. Like get a load of this really well-produced, very well-shot commercial for her tour:
Her shrill, bee-sting voice is just perfect over that pseudo-patriotic schmaltzy sound mix, isn’t it? She’s like an hysterically enthusiastic, OTT Japanese TV show presenter. And as a content creation company, we at PFC must comment on Palin’s own content: the buxom, boldfaced lies; those chic crosshairs on maps that inspire assassinations; the heady levels of delusional beliefs and hemline-raising dubious ethics. She’s a female Gary Busey with Ivana Trump’s hairdo. There’s so much reality TV insanity in the Sarah Palin Show it’s almost incestuous.
Indeed, the real reason I am voting for Sarah Palin is the quality entertainment: she’s a show that will run for a year and a half after she declares her candidacy.
For one can already hear the clang and joyous song of the Humor Dwarves as they shape their axes at anvils deep in the forges of NBC’s Moria, as they sharpen their swords to razor precision, and bind to their weapons magical words of wit in Elvish script, before which few will stand. Goaded forth by Lorne Michaels the Grey, they prepare for an upcoming mighty battle, in which the Forces of Good from all over the American Middle-Earth will be gathered and led by the High-Elven Queen, Tina the Fey, her beehive crown a-glimmer, her eyewear a-sparkle. There on the Fields of the Airwaves shall Queen Tina in her Saturday Night Chariot raise her hand and reveal the One True Ring of Satire, which shall lay waste the evil Tea Party Orcs once and for all. And perhaps America will rise again, and even the Republicans, hitherto banished to the undead world of shade and shame, shall be free once more.
I know, Sarah is low-hanging fruit, a soft, easy target in the crosshairs of the witty intellectualist. It would be far more challenging to extol her virtues, to dip one’s quill in scarlet ink and stretch a paean to her across the finest parchment, Ode to the Lady of the Moose. Regrettably, when I close my eyes and beg my muse for guidance, I still can’t imagine anything good about Sarah Palin herself; all I can see is Levi Johnston with his legs in the air moaning, “Fuck me harder, Daddy.”
I won’t transition here by saying, “speaking of insane people,” because that’s too “on the nose,” as a producer of mine sometimes calls my ideas. However, you will appreciate the leap from the subject of this article to my admission that I have been more than remiss about posting a Schizo of the Week. I have been downright delinquent. The problem has been the travel to India, and the fact that Schizos are like many male animals: they stake out their territories and other Schizos don’t trespass. I seem to have mined most of them in the Hollywood Entertainment District. I did, however, run into Jake, our Schizo of the Month a while back, today at my favorite coffee shop in Hollywood, Groundworks on Sunset and Cahuenga. You will remember that the last time we saw Jake, he had on white angel wings and was reciting Scripture outside the Chase Bank on Sunset and Vine. No doubt that is something Caribou Barbie would heartily approve of as a wholesome, true-blue American pastime.
I just can not be nice to the radical-right. I am personally drowning in the acrid hate of fundamentalist evangelicals, here in the Bible Belt. Everyone thinks that the earth is less than 10,000 years old, and that dinosaurs were in Noah’s Ark. (Seriously) I met a preacher whom I asked, “What do you think Jesus did? Teach the New Testament?”
“Sure!” was the pastors bubbling smile. I said that was a miracle as not a word of it existed for decades after the death of Christ. He smiled with vacuous eyes. He didn’t even seem to register the comment. Like water off a ducks back.
So imagine our schools, gay hate, execration of atheists – which I personally have had people who were good friends, sever all ties with me once they heard the “A” word. They never talked to me again.
So the Tea Party is just a nightmare to me. Everyone here in Texas is 100% for Palin. I am getting worried – no, seriously. We are crazy enough to pass out vouchers for executions, and everyone (including Christians) has a concealed hand gun permit. So everyone is packing a piece while shopping at Wal-Mart. For a time, there was a waiving on the concealed stipulation, so people were wearing cowboy holsters, with two pistols, singing hymns, while standing in Church. We executed several mentally retarded people. Religious Telemarketers come to my door. Its like a plague of Nationalist, Gun Toting, Born again shit kickers.
On the topic of the article. I think Sarah Palin is a 3rd rate MILF with a teleprompter–who to be safe, writes on the back of her hand in magic marker before speaking.
I hate myself because I am drawn to her as (what I am almost certain) she is probably as sexual wild cat. Imagine a Cheer leader, with the glee of a motivational speaker, Who looks good in a two piece suit – holding an assault rifle. I can’t help it. She took down a Moose, so she has that blood lust. I just can’t stop wanting her to mount me life a gymnast would the parallel bars, and use me as an apparatus. I’m ashamed, but I would do it. I am so ashamed.
Jesus loves you – if you are not black, gay, or a pagan. I want to say in other states I have met some Christians who are wonderful. But not here brother.
We have the Blind Faith Initiative. No one reads here either. That is one thing that helped me. I can at least see that Prometheus was a hero, as he brought fire to man — and then the Christians took it, and Jesus then created the first Fiery Hell, and it is hungry for atheists, queers, and niggers. But the KKK is just a social lodge….
Prometheus was chained by Zeus to have his liver pecked out, and says “Let Zeus do as he want’s – He means nothing to me. That was one tough dude.
Abraham was no Prometheus, he was a pussy, and an obsequious bitch lackey.
Give me Zeus, take Sisyphus and take away the rock, Bring back the materialist philosophers.
Also, why not also give me a naked Greek. For to grope in manly, and sweaty wrestling. A bath house maybe?
I am sorry to be on a rant. I just don’t think people outside the Bible Belt realize that Bible Study in Starbucks is a mandatory. The good news is that “They are praying for Me.” So I’ll be just fine. That is as long as I don’t wake up next to a snoring, naked, Palin. Feeling sort of an Abraham, bitch of something greater than him. One just can’t wash that sort of failure off, it lingers with one, and it makes me such a hypocrite.
Thank you all for allowing me to go on a tirade, of non sequiturs, tangential thoughts that come from nowhere and fly in random directions.
Just fear the South as voters. It is HELL in Texas. They literally dragged a black man by his feet which were roped to a ford truck in Jasper Texas. I think they stopped after 2 miles, when he was effaced posteriorly to the bone.
Lastly we have people who scan obituaries and go to a gay AIDS victims burial and shout ” God Hates Fags!” But is “o.k.” as they were issued a permit.
To survive hear, you cannot be anything but a homophobic, white, republican, and red neck, who packs the pew on Sunday, and eye humps his neighbors coveted neighbors wife, mentally honking her pendulous, copious, nipple bejeweled breasts.
O.K. I want Sarah Palin. Judge me, I deserve it. But I don’t want these nuts in the 3 branches of government.Look out liberal america. Texas wants to bring Jesus into your neighborhood and weed out the wicked.
Good article James. As always.
I Finished RTC 2&3– Top Notch. You have a unique way with stringing words together. It’s saucy and erudite. Publish that novel!
Thanks you for your generous compliments, as always, Hanson. As I’ve said in the past, the only way to deal with such insanity is with satire and humor. I can’t imagine being where you are. I do live in a bubble that, while it has its unique hardships, is generally pleasing. Texas is always fascinating to me, though, like a massive freak show, maybe. And Texans are WILD in bed, in my copious experience. I think I understand Texas because of my Australian roots; they are very similar cultures in many ways. Keep the faith, brother, or lack thereof.
There may just be a Palin sleeper cell (literal cells, I mean) in our brains. None of us knew who she was, but the moment her name went public, the cells activated. In some brains, the cell says “Love her, no matter how irrational.” In others, the cell sats, “Hate her. Seriously, she’s an asshat.”
What does it say about this country that she’s so beloved by a large segment of the populace? I’ve talked to many of these people, and they can’t grasp that she’s nothing more than a shrewd half-wit.
It’s mass insanity, delusion, whatever. It’s mass, is all I know.
I’m just glad I have another passport on hand, of a remote, rather idyllic semi-socialist country with a plethora of hot men just in case the promised sociocultural meltdown that has been threatening this country ever since I was born actually happens.
The hysterical reaction to these nutjobs is in direct proportion to how insane they are. They exist everywhere, but the beauty of the airwaves and the internet is that we are free the skewer and pull them down with humor. It’s the best solution. I would say “the beauty of America is that we are free” but luckily America no longer owns that illusion.
Our Chelsea had a brilliant bit about Palin either last night or the other night; I don’t know, it was taped. Chelsea is reaching levels of sublime I didn’t think possible in late night comedy. I’m applying to the Vatican to have her fast-tracked to sainthood.
Oh, I do believe I’ve just hit on Thursday’s post …