David Kahane, that bitter arch-liberal man-about-Hollywood writes in National Review, “It’s just not right that you Palins are using the trash culture we’ve so lovingly created against us:”
It was bad enough when the most unqualified person in American life — I’m talking to you, Sarah — had the effrontery to run for vice president. It got even worse when, after your well-deserved shellacking at the hands of the most qualified person in America — that would be His Exalted Majesty, the Emperor Barack Hussein Obama II, Lord of the Flies, Master of the Hoops, and Keeper of the Holy Cities of Honolulu and Chicago — you refused to slink off into the obscurity of the Arctic Standard Time Zone, or whatever that place is called where the sun don’t shine. Now you even have your own reality show, on which no moose or caribou is safe.
But while you’re banging away at the wildlife population and then popping their remains in a pot for dinner, you’ve bequeathed us Bristol, little miss Dancing with the Stars and now the proud owner of some choice Arizona real estate, to carry on the family tradition of driving us nuts.
Listen to me: It’s just not right that you Palins are using the trash culture we’ve so lovingly created against us — that was meant to inflict Britney Spears on your wingnut families, not to blast us with Bristol. Teenaged unwed mother? Check. Tabloid fodder? Check. Famous for being famous? Check. Normally, we would endorse all those things, just as, in a rational world, we would embrace Mama Grizzly for her “compelling personal narrative,” as the Finemans of the media like to call it.
But, of course, we don’t. Because we can’t. Because to do so would mean the end of our carefully maintained double standard — and the minute you folks on the right no longer accept your second-class status in the moral pecking order, we are finished.
Read the whole thing.
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