Tonight will determine if Sarah Palin’s Vice Presidential nod is unraveling like an old wool sweater during a brisk walk through a bramble patch.

First off, there are questions as to how John McCain vetted the scrappy Governor of Alaska. He says he met her once. Some reports dispute it was that frequent. Either way, what was the deal: did they share a Happy Meal at some out of the way MacDonald’s, talk for twenty minutes, then he got up and said, “Okey Dokey Smokey?”

Personally, I think she rated high on his MILF list. Or maybe Karl Rove convinced him that what Americans have really been longing for is a Vice President who can shoot and field dress a moose, then cook up a roast you could die for.

GOP talking heads keep saying that since she was mayor of a town of 8,000, and governor of a state of three fifths of a million people for 18 months proves she has executive experience. You know what, that’s more night- manager- at- Radio Shack kind of executive experience than CEO- of- a- multinational- corporation kind of executive experience.

She didn’t get a passport till last year. Come on. Even Bush had been out of the country 3 times before becoming president.

Admittedly, 2 of them were to Mexico on beer runs. Mostly, she seems to excite the Christian Right base with that whole five kids and high school daughter now pregnant and we’re keeping them all no matter what they look like, sort of thing: but to the left, she’s just another headshaking example of conservative head- in- the- sand denial.

Q. What do you call a mother who believes “Abstinence Only” is a birth control method?

A. Grandma.

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Trump's politics are not the problem.

The fiery Milwaukee Sheriff is on the shortlist to head the Department of Homeland Security.

By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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