Editor's note: This contribution by the late journalist I.F. Stone first appeared in our January 1975 magazine.
Well, now we know why she was nicknamed Sarah Barracuda. Last night Governor Palin proved that a former small town mayor from Alaska could hold her own with the former mayor of New York, Rudolph Giuliani, in the big time partisan red meat sweepstakes, as they headlined a Murderer’s Row of GOP speakers who methodically eviscerated the twin scourges of conservatism today: Democratic candidate Barack Obama and the liberal elite media. In these politically swift moving waters it should come as no surprise that Palin- Palooza replaced Obama- Rama in the hearts and minds of America. Well, at least on their TV screens. We’ll find out about the latter later. In her almost- but- not- quite acceptance speech, presumptive Vice Presidential nominee Palin established herself as a formidable power hitter gunning for noted hardballer Joe Biden in their upcoming debate. But in her coming out party, she was as pert as a Meyer Lemon and as easy on the eyes as Key Lime Pie. Like Tiny Fey crossed with a shark. Pat Buchanan in heels. Christie Todd Whitman in a skirt. Apparently, being a hockey mom means chewing your opponent’s stick. Or as she said; a pitbull with lipstick. Must be all that body checking and pucks to the head. She got the crowd frothing by disemboweling the irresponsible media for having the audacity to question her experience. Apparently that’s sexist and you can’t ask her new boss about how many houses he owns because he was a POW. Wow. The first off limits ticket. Nice work if you can get it. I’ll tell you one thing, I’d hate to be John McCain and have to replicate that performance tonight. Think Loudon Wainwright Jr. trying to follow the Rolling Stones.