Sarah Palin, Motormouth
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In other respects, she's a noob. Always will be, perpetually stuck at the lowest levels of unminded evolution, forever unable to learn, mainly because she's impaled herself (like all bony fish) on the sturdy palisades of unnecessary thought.
For example, for her, the past is damaged in essence† and therefore (four millenia of church history to the contrary) inessential — she can simply wish it away like chalk off a blackboard — because as a true born-again believer, that pentacostal gift of ineffable, unvoiceable grace promised in hours-long sermons every Sunday is, dogonnit, Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket straight to the chocolate vats of Paradise, no efforts required, no regrets and above all, no atonement for collateral damage done. (Catholics — my brand — may have gang aft agley concerning the role of reason and science, in particular the biological sciences these days, but to our eternal credit we've kept Purgatory on the lists of legitimate pause.)
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Biden won the debate with pure overt Rope-a-Dope®. And Palin obliged nicely, as we knew she would. She slew herself with the jawbone of an ass. That Obama guy's a (*beep*)ing genius.
†What? You didn't immediately think of Original Sin? You haven't been perusing your Gibbon, my friend. (Or Cuppy's Decline either, for that matter.)
Labels: politics
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