Because I always see the best in people, I assumed that Palin had finally taken a long look into her soul and realized that nothing she’d done in the last three or four years had made the world a better place. (I do that sometimes too.) I figured she’d been going through some of the old speeches, and reviewing the video she made right after the Tucson massacre, and had a life-changing epiphany: Fame, by itself, is a false god. Narcissism abrades the soul like #30 sandpaper. If you can’t add anything to the body of knowledge, you should keep your mouth shut.
Stuff like that. I figured she’d stood before a mirror one night and vowed to be a better person. I figured the next time we saw Sarah Palin, it would be as she accepted the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo, both for her years of humanitarian work in the teeming slums of Juneau and for the lasting peace she was able to engineer between Israel and the Palestinians.
Or maybe not. As I may have mentioned, I’ve been wrong before.
She’s back. Palin waving from the back of a Harley, her ridiculous bus trip up the Eastern Seaboard, her pizza date with Donald Trump — these things don’t suggest a woman who has done much soul-searching in her all-too-brief hiatus from the limelight. If anything, she seems to be doubling down. She’s like an alcoholic who’s gone dry for a day and a half and is now rewarding herself with double shots of bourbon. Keep ’em coming, Lloyd!
If somebody’s a drunk, it’s probably not fair to blame the bartender. But Sarah Palin is clearly intoxicated, and most news organizations just keep on serving her. ( I say “most” because the New York Times seems to have summoned enough dignity to ignore her, at least for today.) Didn’t we just go through this with Trump? At some point, the best you can do for fame-lushes like Trump and Palin is offer to drive them home.
Seriously, CNN. Keep following Palin’s bus and she’s only going to get worse. Maybe you want to be there in case it plunges over an embankment or something, but until she sobers up and offers a detailed plan for reviving the economy, getting us out of Afghanistan and finding me a full-time gig, I don’t want to hear any more Palin news. I don’t want any more coy interviews. I don’t want any more pictures of her peering at the Constitution or glad-handing at Gettysburg.
The woman’s got a problem. And it’s time for an intervention.