Saturday, February 06, 2010


The one, absolute certainty of this evening, regarding the Wasilla Whiz Kid's reversed-Sally-Field-I Love-You-Tea-Party-Nation-I-Really-Love-You $100G speech, is that Peggy Noonan must have had a half-dozen, or so, orgasms, for the number of drippingly pandering times Mommy Moose gave (and encouraged) virtual blow jobs to Ronald Reagan.

The way the Teabaggers were lapping her up like happy soup, Ms. Ya'Bet'cha's could have just said the name "Ronald Reagan" for 90-minutes or so, and they still would have carried her off on their shoulders.

The way she opened the gig, the earth was rumbling at Forest Lawn, as Frank Capra had to stand up, from his grave, and applaud the way the former PartyofNoican clothes horse covered just about all there is in Americana, just short of baking an apple pie on stage, as she stuttered out how proud she was to "be an American", blew kisses to the soldiers, slammed CSPAN, let everyone know she wants to knit American Flag underwear for Scott Brown, and, of course, groped, and French kissed, for the first of many times, the old Gipper.

From there, it was pedal-to-the-metal boilerplate bashing, of Obama, Pelosi, Reid, the Democrats, liberals, and even poor Joe Biden.

And, surely, the MSM will grab onto her "Hopey-Changey" zinger.

It all their fault, all our debt, unemployment, that they are running a panty-boy National Security and Foreign policy, and all we have to do, to get our "economy soaring again", is cut spending and cut taxes.

In fact, it would be much later, when asked to describe, if, cough, cough, she was "President Palin", what her National Security and Foreign Policy would be, flags popped out of sleeves, and I swear, the Liberty University Marching Band came out on stage, playing "Stars and Stripes Forever" and she machine-gunned out;

We win, they lose

Give her credit, for knowing her rabid audience, as her jabs, slurs, misinformation and lies were often punctuated with a proverbial rim shot, and, she gave a nod to any geezer Teabaggers, with raising "high, high, high" the godfather of what used to be the Conservative Movement, Barry Goldwater (if he were in the mix today, the teabaggers would chase him down the street and beat him to death with their misspelled signs).

But the big moment, the money shot, came at the end, in a sandbagged Question and Answer period, with the money-grubbing Convention producer, Judson Phillips, who winked-and-nodded to the crowd, that the questions came from "Tea Party Nation".

If the Teabaggers didn't have flaming-arrows-in-the-eye blind loyalty, and love, of Palin, the room would have deflated, perhaps been torn apart and burned down, when, before the questions began, Mommy Moose advocated, after nearly 90-minutes of kissing the grass-roots ground they walk on, that the PartyofNoicans "embrace" the Teabaggers into their white-only tiny tent.

Come to think of it, not sure if that was an olive branch, or a fatwa, that if they don't, they will be hunted down, skinned alive and used for kindling wood, when the Teabaggers embark on that revolution Palin, earlier said, they were ready for.

Anyway, back to the money shot.

Phillips asked that, with the pending Conservative takeover of the House and Senate, in the Fall Midterms (he presented this, less as a hypothetical, and more as a given), what should be the three top points of their agenda?

Oh no, a wild card question, requiring the former abdicating half-term Governor to, yikes, think.

Onward Comrades, as Palin jumped right in, saying, first, we have to go back to our roots, and be a "God-fearing nation".

Then, it was okay not to have all the answers, you know, have ideas, vision, facts, she was giving her future government a pass on, you know, actually doing anything.

That's because she saved her best, for last.

The definitive policy of Sarah Palin;
Divine Intervention
Everybody just get down on your knees, start praying, start beseeching the Good Lord, to take away the scary monster in the closet, and make us okay again, you know, give us back OUR country.

Divine Intervention.

Oh, good grief ...

Take it away, Annie Ross

Twisted - Annie Ross

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