Sarah Palin, commander in chief of the United States of America. It’s a beautiful picture, isn’t it?
Men and women walking their be-lipsticked pit bulls down quiet streets, passing hockey rinks on every second corner, pausing only to occasionally gun down wildlife with their now mandatory M-16s. Pregnant teenagers roam hungrily, expertly field dressing the freshly slaughtered squirrels, bemoaning the Supreme Court’s newest justices’, Karl Rove and Rush Limbaugh, decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. At night, the streets are lit by the glow of burning books, and whispering circles of dissidents remove their flag pins from their national uniforms, daringly discussing the American invasion of France.
But if you need me, I’ll be in Canada. Well, maybe Mexico. Or New Zealand. But I will no longer be an American. America, where a person whose “executive experience” includes the mayorship of a town of 6,000 and less than two years as the governor of an oil-rich, albeit backwards, state is in position for arguably the second most important job in the world. America, where a barely educated person, with stints at North Idaho College and Matanuska-Susitna College, with a degree in journalism from the University of Idaho, is in position for arguably the second most important job in the world. America, where a person whose stump speeches include claims such as small towns are the only examples of the real America, that her opponent is a terrorist and sneering references to her opponent’s time spent as a community organizer, is in position for arguably the second most important job in the world.
I could bite the pill and tolerate John McCain’s presidency; after all, he’s now more or less promising the same executive leadership in the next four years as was provided in the past eight. And I haven’t lost my mind yet. But McCain, according to statistics used by insurance companies, has a 15 percent chance of death in the next four years, as well as a one-in-three shot to pass away before the end of his second term, and these numbers do not even include his medical history (melanoma, as well as untreated injuries from his time in a prison camp in Vietnam). And considering a presidential election is decided with the same degree of certainty as a coin toss, Sarah Palin’s odds of one day redecorating the Oval Office is chillingly high.
The prospects of a Palin presidency are, to be reductive, frightening. She has a history of secrecy, using private e-mails to discuss state business while governor in Alaska, in the hope of avoiding subpoenas. She was found to have abused power in the Troopergate scandal, a controversy regarding the removal of a commissioner who refused to fire Palin’s ex-brother-in-law, by an investigator and mainly Republican panel of Alaskan lawmakers. Her foreign policy credentials are frankly startling. Aside from her clear advantage of being able to, on a clear day, see the Russian coast from some parts of her state, she did not have a passport until last year, was not aware of the ideals of the Bush Doctrine and considers the Iraq War a holy quest, although she once admitted to not having “focused too much on the war in Iraq.”
As Palin travels the country, avoiding reporters and inciting cries of “off with his head,” “treason,” “kill him” and “terrorist” in reference to her opponent, the appropriate emotion the average American should feel is fear. Fear that this person, who has censored libraries, who is a fundamentalist Christian, who doesn’t think the causes of global warming are important, may perhaps be the face of this nation to the world, the president of the United States of America.
But if you need me, I’ll be in Canada.