Palin comparison and other sick jokes
[בילד – נישט אפגעהיט]And so, bereft at last of ideas or any vision that might guide them out of the philosophical cul-de-sac into which the Bush-Cheney cabal had marched them, the Publicans, still believing it God's will that they rule over America, turned to one of the oldest last resorts in the spiritual book.
They decided to bring a golem to life.
According to Jewish folklore, a golem is a creature formed of inanimate matter and brought to life by magic to serve its creator unquestioningly. In this case, the creator, Karl Rove, weekending in Dick Cheney's bunker, leafed through a copy of The Sefer Yezirah for Dummies and started shaping his golem out of the raw materials of neo-conservatism: a pinch of intolerance, a dash of paranoia, a flagon of private sector initiative and a heaping handful of self-righteousness. In the tradition of Hasidic lore, he wrote the word ''truth'' on the golem's forehead and waited for his creature to come alive.
A blast of frigid air suddenly blew the latest Rasmussen poll off the desk. Karl heard an eerie sound, like the call of a moose, and smelled what seemed to be back bacon frying. Then there was a roar like a gusher coming in and Karl felt himself being thrown into the oaken wall, as though he had been body checked.
He came to in a vast hall full of cheering people waving placards, and Karl saw that blind adulation had brought the golem to life. He looked upon his creation with delight, for it was comely, and he realized that the form the golem had assumed was more beautiful than he had dreamed.
It was Judge Roy Moore in a skirt.
Sarah Heath Palin, former Wasilla mayor, current Alaska governor and full-time buzzword, is not the running mate John McCain anticipated, but she is the top of the ticket Karl Rove craved; a charismatic cipher to take the onus of attention off the tired old man who was never really the party base's choice.
In one whirlwind week, Palin swooped into American political life like an Arctic Clipper, carefully guided by the expert narrative shapers under Rove's command. Given words to speak that revived dormant culture war along with neocons' spirits, Palin was introduced at the convention in as many guises as deemed necessary, including beauty queen, tough executive, National Guard commander, special needs parent, lettering athlete and gun toter. Paradoxically, Palin seemed the quintessence of a feminist's ideal woman.
Except, of course, for that delusional notion that a woman ought to have dominion over her own body. Palin rejects sex education for an abstinence-only policy and is virulently opposed to abortion under any circumstances. As governor, she used her line-item veto power just this year to cut funding for a state program for homeless teen mothers, intriguingly unempathetic considering her daughter's (and indeed, back in the day, her own) pregnancy out of wedlock.
A former Roman Catholic baptized into the Assembly of God, Palin cleaves to fundamental beliefs based on a literal interpretation of the Bible. The Wasilla Bible Church she and husband Todd now attend recently promoted a conference promising to pray gay people straight, while another conference brought in a spokesman for the Jews for Jesus evangelical movement. She supports teaching creationism in schools and believes that God's will directs not only the path of her life but certain of the nation's endeavors, such as invading Iraq and building a $30 billion pipeline across Alaska.
Her current pastor believes that, because of its natural resources, Alaska will be a refuge state for residents of the Lower 48 when the Rapture occurs. Her previous pastor, at the Wasilla Assembly of God, in 2004 questioned the salvation of any of his flock unhinged enough to vote for John Kerry.
I'm no theologian, but it seems to me that if you get behind a literal interpretation of the Good Book, you will be socially repressive in your Old Testament but downright socialist in your New, making Christianity a tricky faith for the GOP to profess. According to those pesky gospels, Jesus was less about free market trade than redistribution of wealth, clearly opposing lockstep thinking and the death penalty, inveighing against hypocritical public displays of religiosity while affirming the separation of church and state.
No wonder His quotes are printed in red.
He was also rather enthusiastic about social justice, which may have escaped Governor Palin's recollection when she got snarky during her coming-out speech. In suggesting that community organizers have no actual responsibilities, Palin catapulted herself out of the down-to-earth milieu she was trying so hard to establish and into that rarefied atmosphere so many Publicans prefer to huff above the struggling rabble.
As an anonymous wag observed online last week, ''Jesus was a community organizer. Pontius Pilate was a governor.''
Another moral impediment Palin manifests is bearing false witness. Contrary to her recent assertions, she once hired an Abramoff lobbyist to secure earmarked funding for Wasilla; she supported the ''Bridge to Nowhere'' and, by association, a culture of corruption that makes Alaskan politics look like Louisiana on ice; as mayor she saddled her town with crippling debt and as governor she didn't sell her old state airplane on eBay.
The Bloviating Aviator has already established through a breathtaking series of policy flip-flops that he will say whatever it takes to get himself elected. Carefully shielded from the scrutiny of what few skeptical reporters remain on the trail of straight talk anymore, Palin's prevarications complement her ticket mate's elegantly on that strait-gated, narrow path to the White House.
In the old Jewish tales, sometimes the golem eludes its creator's control and must be decommissioned. Interestingly, the way you do that is to take the word ''truth'' off its forehead. When the bare-faced lie is revealed, the golem returns to the inanimate mass from which it came. Which, in this case, we can only hope is Alaska.
They decided to bring a golem to life.
According to Jewish folklore, a golem is a creature formed of inanimate matter and brought to life by magic to serve its creator unquestioningly. In this case, the creator, Karl Rove, weekending in Dick Cheney's bunker, leafed through a copy of The Sefer Yezirah for Dummies and started shaping his golem out of the raw materials of neo-conservatism: a pinch of intolerance, a dash of paranoia, a flagon of private sector initiative and a heaping handful of self-righteousness. In the tradition of Hasidic lore, he wrote the word ''truth'' on the golem's forehead and waited for his creature to come alive.
A blast of frigid air suddenly blew the latest Rasmussen poll off the desk. Karl heard an eerie sound, like the call of a moose, and smelled what seemed to be back bacon frying. Then there was a roar like a gusher coming in and Karl felt himself being thrown into the oaken wall, as though he had been body checked.
He came to in a vast hall full of cheering people waving placards, and Karl saw that blind adulation had brought the golem to life. He looked upon his creation with delight, for it was comely, and he realized that the form the golem had assumed was more beautiful than he had dreamed.
It was Judge Roy Moore in a skirt.
Sarah Heath Palin, former Wasilla mayor, current Alaska governor and full-time buzzword, is not the running mate John McCain anticipated, but she is the top of the ticket Karl Rove craved; a charismatic cipher to take the onus of attention off the tired old man who was never really the party base's choice.
In one whirlwind week, Palin swooped into American political life like an Arctic Clipper, carefully guided by the expert narrative shapers under Rove's command. Given words to speak that revived dormant culture war along with neocons' spirits, Palin was introduced at the convention in as many guises as deemed necessary, including beauty queen, tough executive, National Guard commander, special needs parent, lettering athlete and gun toter. Paradoxically, Palin seemed the quintessence of a feminist's ideal woman.
Except, of course, for that delusional notion that a woman ought to have dominion over her own body. Palin rejects sex education for an abstinence-only policy and is virulently opposed to abortion under any circumstances. As governor, she used her line-item veto power just this year to cut funding for a state program for homeless teen mothers, intriguingly unempathetic considering her daughter's (and indeed, back in the day, her own) pregnancy out of wedlock.
A former Roman Catholic baptized into the Assembly of God, Palin cleaves to fundamental beliefs based on a literal interpretation of the Bible. The Wasilla Bible Church she and husband Todd now attend recently promoted a conference promising to pray gay people straight, while another conference brought in a spokesman for the Jews for Jesus evangelical movement. She supports teaching creationism in schools and believes that God's will directs not only the path of her life but certain of the nation's endeavors, such as invading Iraq and building a $30 billion pipeline across Alaska.
Her current pastor believes that, because of its natural resources, Alaska will be a refuge state for residents of the Lower 48 when the Rapture occurs. Her previous pastor, at the Wasilla Assembly of God, in 2004 questioned the salvation of any of his flock unhinged enough to vote for John Kerry.
I'm no theologian, but it seems to me that if you get behind a literal interpretation of the Good Book, you will be socially repressive in your Old Testament but downright socialist in your New, making Christianity a tricky faith for the GOP to profess. According to those pesky gospels, Jesus was less about free market trade than redistribution of wealth, clearly opposing lockstep thinking and the death penalty, inveighing against hypocritical public displays of religiosity while affirming the separation of church and state.
No wonder His quotes are printed in red.
He was also rather enthusiastic about social justice, which may have escaped Governor Palin's recollection when she got snarky during her coming-out speech. In suggesting that community organizers have no actual responsibilities, Palin catapulted herself out of the down-to-earth milieu she was trying so hard to establish and into that rarefied atmosphere so many Publicans prefer to huff above the struggling rabble.
As an anonymous wag observed online last week, ''Jesus was a community organizer. Pontius Pilate was a governor.''
Another moral impediment Palin manifests is bearing false witness. Contrary to her recent assertions, she once hired an Abramoff lobbyist to secure earmarked funding for Wasilla; she supported the ''Bridge to Nowhere'' and, by association, a culture of corruption that makes Alaskan politics look like Louisiana on ice; as mayor she saddled her town with crippling debt and as governor she didn't sell her old state airplane on eBay.
The Bloviating Aviator has already established through a breathtaking series of policy flip-flops that he will say whatever it takes to get himself elected. Carefully shielded from the scrutiny of what few skeptical reporters remain on the trail of straight talk anymore, Palin's prevarications complement her ticket mate's elegantly on that strait-gated, narrow path to the White House.
In the old Jewish tales, sometimes the golem eludes its creator's control and must be decommissioned. Interestingly, the way you do that is to take the word ''truth'' off its forehead. When the bare-faced lie is revealed, the golem returns to the inanimate mass from which it came. Which, in this case, we can only hope is Alaska.