If anyone was curious as to whatever happened to Donna Douglas of The Beverly Hillbillies, she has morphed into Sarah Palin. If the Governor of Alaska poured any more honey over last night's debate, moderator Gwen Ifill would have needed an insulin shot.
I don't know what I expected to see last night but I certainly wasn't surprised or shocked. The scorecard might show Joe Biden as the winner by TKO, but Sweet Sarah won a round or two. Biden was clearly out cutsied. He was also out smiled (and he has a great one) and out folksyed. As a beauty contest it was no contest.
The supporters and handlers of John McCain are breathing a little easier this morning. They have a right to be proud. Their tutelage helped create a reasonable facsimile of a silk purse from one of the most egregious sow's ears ever to appear in front of a camera. Sarah Palin is the living example of how to treat ignorance as though it were a virtue. If you can't answer the question you were asked, answer some other question with the platitudes that you memorized. Think Chatty Cathy. Pull the string, you get a response. It's not a non sequitur if you're cute.
I tried this method of response during my college career. Regardless of the question, or even the subject, I would always steer the answer around to some issue with which I was more familiar. I reasoned that because all knowledge is interrelated, any information can answer all questions. Those tasked with evaluating my academic abilities took a somewhat different view. It was their rather narrow approach to learning that kept me as a charter member of the "2.0 and under club".
Regardless of how one presents their arguments, the effectiveness is diminished if the discourse is not responsive to the question. The point of a debate is to field questions on a variety of topics in the vain hope that the audience can judge your ability to hold office. If your only response is the endless regurgitation of talking points, forget the debate and purchase an hour on Fox News.
Well, thank God it's over. Joe didn't eat the scenery and Sarah didn't knock over the podium. Joe was studious (some say boring) and Sarah was as inane as Chrissy on Three's Company. Call me crazy but I like my world leaders with a little gravitas. That "golly gee, oh shucks, you betcha'" bullshit plays well enough in a state where Diet Dr. Pepper appears on the wine list under reds, but here in the lower forty-eight we're a bit less homespun. We appreciate folks from exotic parts of the country, we may even envy their simple world view but we are not crazy enough to elect them to the highest office in the land. The re-enactors at Williamsburg have charm but no one would seriously consider voting for a man who rides a horse to work.
When this is over, Sarah has a great career ahead of her as a mid-day talk show host. She can "ah shucks" her way to fame and fortune. Millions will tune in to see how baby Trig is doing or how Bristol is fairing with her fifth child. She can become America's newest Doris Day. There might even be a place for her cigar store Indian husband (OK that was a little mean). I wish her all the success in the world...as long as it's away from that cute little nuclear button.
2 comments:
I was impressed with the dental work on both sides.
Loved your blog, agreed wholeheartedly. Rarely have I been as surprised and taken aback by anything as I was by Sarah's winking into the camera. At first I thought I must be mistaken, there must be a dust issue in the studio or flying things or an untimely tic occurence, but oh, no! she kept it up. My mouth dropped open and I cried, "Who's she winking at?" God help us.
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