This is a review of former VP-candidate Sarah Palin’s memoir of the 2008 election campaign,
It Was Nice to be Out of Alaska. I know what you’re thinking: that book hasn’t been written yet. Well, that would be a problem for lesser reviewers. As you already know, it's possible to
review movies I haven’t even seen, and don’t ever intend to see. Is Tom Cruise wearing an eye patch in the preview? Is he still Tom Cruise? Yes and yes. Well, then the rest can be interpolated. In this case, is Sarah Palin an epsilon semi-moron? See, now you’re getting it.
You might think the Barracuda’s memoir is filled with a mix of cute little folk-isms and divisive rednecky slogans, but you’d be wrong. On the whole it’s a scathing indictment on our political system and a biting critique of our national character. For example, on page 23 (about a quarter way down the page), she writes, ‘…and the media got in the way of my plans to bring Jesus to Alaska. As the sun rises in the liberal East... etc, etc... egghead... etc, etc... maverick... etc, etc... like a flash of pure ecstasy across the sky.’ What she’s talking about there is not so much religion or even the media, but the lack of a coherent strategy to reduce the influence of money in politics, as well as the indifference and complacency of the average American voter. You’ll find a similar kind of ruthless rationality on page 1,637 (at the end of the last paragraph, 3-1/2 lines up from the bottom), where she writes, ‘Katie Couric is a poopoo-head.’ Eloquent, concise, painfully revealing. And then there are some telling personal vignettes, like when Todd forgets to wear a raincoat in 2007.
In the last line of the book on page 2,042, after all the policy wonkishness and rigorous analysis, the Governor betrays a hint of her burning ambition: ‘Homegirl has some street cred now, right? Am I right? Huh? Who’s with me?’ And we all know what that means. Palin in 2012. Write it down.
So, if you’re looking for an absorbing read and you want to re-live the 2008 election because it just wasn’t long enough, or if you’re looking for some ‘elite opinion’ served up cold and icy, this book is for you.
Next up,
I Better Get Paid for This F***ing Book: The Rod Blagojevich Story.
Tripp Easton Mitchell Johnston -- 7 pounds, 4 ounces. Welcome to the world, ya little bastard. There are no pictures yet, but the Washington Post is reporting a possible $300,000 photo haul for the irresponsible teenage couple.
