Impressions. Since Sarah Palin does not write her own books — nor credit the ghosts who do, I suppose her “Blood Libel” talk was composed by speechwriters. I also suppose that ignorance is usually surrounded by ignorance, the undereducated in league with the undereducated. Quite likely that team Palin had no idea about the loaded meaning of that term for Jews. And that is point one. Palin comes to us without historicity. She dwells in the present abandoned by cognition of the past. In short, she doesn’t know gradations of feelings or emotions. What drives her is pure unadulterated narcissism which is as American as apple pie. The dynamic of her family and her relationship to Todd, the capon, is fascinating to observe and what can be derived from that is very little, alas. What we are given is mirrored images and so appropriate for a narcissist. Pundits, left and right wingnuts, ask what is the hold she has on her detractors. I think she is the new American, poorly educated, grandiose, having broken through to her “real” self so that she has the chutzpah to declare that ignorance is bliss, that ignorance is strength, for she is hatched from Orwell’s world. She is dangerous, mark my words, as she barrels throughout the culture, for she has made it safe and secure, she has made it honorable and appropriate to be blazingly stupid and yet go for the holy grail — the presidency. A quick survey of our present legislators reveal an appalling group of stupid men and women which only reaffirms Palin’s belief system that anyone can run for office. The days of Harry S. Truman are long gone. I wouldn’t trust the man in the street with my nail parings.
Impressions. I have observed her, from time to time, growing more facile with the language as she is being prepped and prepared, more certain. Doubt, for her, is indecisiveness. That is why religion is up her spine. People who do not doubt ultimately damage others. And as she learns it only serves to make her feel more commanding than ever. That speech pattern and sound of her voice is grating and pressured as if she has a ton of verbal garbage she has to emit, for she is on automatic and every day as she gathers more data and “learnings” it will become a steady stream of sound, like a flat tire endlessly flapping its tread on pavement. Some men find her attractive, physically, that is; some women admit she has a way about her, perhaps like a doped up cheerleader. I find her to be encapsulated, as if ensconced in a cloud of nothingness. She is Alaskan ice, pristine and pure, but a confection of temperature and water. And Palin is a hard personality which makes some women enthralled with her and some men envying Todd’s tool. Palin is not so much a castrator as she is a chilled presence, for her warmth, look carefully now, is manufactured, for I think this is how she has managed to get as far as she has and what an interesting defense that is. Growing up, one can imagine how she figured out how to behave in order to sustain her own vapidity. Perhaps she subliminally concluded to make pretend, to choose a self and play it out for all time. We all do a variation on this.
Impressions. I cannot say, I don’t really know, I can only imagine and I don’t have all the facts to render an intelligible interpretation or conclusion. Having learned from Sarah that this is in no way an impediment, in fact, it is an energizing kind of self-actualization, I will go on with other observations, emboldened by Sarah, my culture hero. Her children. I see them as an extensions of her own narcissism and her own planetary self worlds. The shabby presentation of her teenage daughter to the media, the lack of parental restraint, of protecting and securing for a child a parental “hold” does not apply for Saran (notice the Freudian slip, Saran instead of Sarah; I love our minds, for she is cellophane) for her children are “things,” apparently in her eyes. When she struts her retarded child on to a stage, having him in her left arm as if he were some kind of doll, I associate to Michael Jackson’s stupid behavior with his child on a balcony, such an inept man-child. That child is part of a twisted narcissism, see how I can make him part and parcel of my world, my very extensive world; Palin should be home with her children, attending to them in loving ways. What appalls me is the using of children to further her image of the magnificent mama grizzly. What she lacks is grace.
Palin’s monumental inability to put aside her own political shenanigans in order to disinfect herself of “blood libel” gets me to my final impression. If there is any spine to this blog, it is the one I will give now and that is her inability to empathize, for I find her inordinately hard and unfeeling as a person. My intuition tells me so. And narcissists, of course, are notorious for not seeing the other person’s difficulties, anguish or pain. A mirror has no depth, it only reflects. In the old movies of the fifties that dealt with flying saucers and such, the classic line was “Watch the skies!” In the years ahead watch her children, for in that will be the real testament of her as a human being. “Watch her kids!”
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