09-06-2008, 06:34 PM
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My Week: Sarah Palin
This is from Britain's TimesOnline...where right above their name they tout that they are the News Site of the Year for the 2008 Newspaper Awards...
I guess this is what passes as "news"...A condescending and belittling hitpiece that matches the Obama campaigns first response to Palin's nomination... 
My Week: Sarah Palin
Quote:
Monday
I’ve been John McCain’s running-mate for a few days now. People say, what about the scrutiny? But I’m used to scrutiny. I’ve been the Governor of Alaska for 20 months, and for 19 of them I’ve had every photographer in Wasilla camped outside my house. All of them. Jed, Wilbert and Ezekiel. So don’t tell me I don’t know about pressure!
I kill stuff. That’s what you gotta understand. I’m just your average hockey mom who kills stuff. And then uses that stuff to cover her house. Wall to ceiling. You think that’s a fake raccoon skin lampshade? You think this carpet ain’t real moose? You think that singing fish on the wall wasn’t a real fish? I killed stuff more often than Barack Obama had hot dinners. I killed stuff more often than I had kids. And I had a lotta kids. Seven? Nine? Who’s counting?
Tuesday
John McCain and me, we talk the same language. When we first met, that much was clear. “Sit yourself down, John S. McCain,” I said to him. “Shift Mr Stuffed Beaver out the way, hang up your coat on Mr Elk Head, and let’s get to know each other. I’m a hockey mom. I kill stuff. I went to Germany once.”
“That’s probably all I need to know,” yawned John S. McCain. “I wonder if you’d like to be vice-president?” Then he met the kids. Well, the nearest kids. Trig, Track, Willow, Piper, maybe a couple of others. That’s how it works in this family. We stumble out of the maternity ward, and reach for a dictionary. “A great pleasure,” said John S. McCain, shaking them all by the hand. “And what do you call your dog?” “A footstool,” I said, and I gave it a little push. “Look. It’s on wheels.”
Wednesday
Today I address the Republican convention in Minneapolis. Am I nervous? Of course not. When I was campaigning to be Mayor of Wasilla, the whole town came to a public meeting in my own front garden. I couldn’t be nervous after that! Although we did nearly run out of paper napkins.
I’m going to talk about what I stand for. Freedom. Oil. Guns. Teenage pregnancy. How does Barack Obama have the nerve to pretend he speaks for America? The man is 47 and he doesn’t have a single grandchild. Talk about out of touch. Talk about aloof.
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Some on the left will find it funny and a nice touch of satire...
the right will see it for what it really is...elitist commentary intentionally smearing to sway people who don't know the VP pick...
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"You get the respect that you give" - cnredd
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