Fast Food vs a Real Meal

Sarah Palin didn’t debate. And for that she won. Joe Biden did debate. And for that he won, hands down. Palin was pure theatre, all squeaky sound bites, eye rolls, country kitchen you-betchas, darn-it enywees, American Idol beauty pageant hokum. She didn’t vomit, didn’t succumb to vapors, didn’t have to hold in her arms that poor retarded baby Trig (or Track, Tic, Tac whatever) …no, she stood behind the podium armed with paint-by-number platitudes, over-the-top girly winks, head bobs and eyelash flutters. The only “I’m a sexy lady” come-on gesture she failed to employ was the hair-toss…not possible due to her 1980’s style scrunched-up beehive-mullet. Biden was respectful, thoughtful, forceful and effectively logical. Palin was not so respectful (can I call you Joe?…he always said “Governor Palin”) hardly thoughtful and maddeningly goofy. If she were running for president of the PTA I might vote for her. Biden was not afflicted with his famous symptoms of logorrhea; Palin reveled in, cheered and celebrated her own vacuousness. She was petri-dish bio-engineered baloney; he was an aged, tender, grass-fed rare rib-eye. And to the fast-food fed masses her baloney tasted pretty good. I prefer a real meal.

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