Miranda, amanda — and dux femina facti, you damn betcha.

La Divina Sara

It will surprise none of you, candid readers, that la divina Sara‘s new memoir Going Rogue: An American Life, with six weeks to go before release date, has already rocketed to number one on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Yes, Governor Palin, that most potent mixture of Laura Ingalls Wilder, Magna Mater and Britomart, to name just a few of her coruscating personae, is a rock star, who leaves bourgeoise hags like Miss Hell Obomber and lumpen lesbians like Hillary Clinton in the dust.  She’s a scintillating ball of energy and blooming good health — in addition to being a blend of William Jennings Bryan and Robert Alphonso Taft, of blessed Old America memory — and she could draw 50,000 people to the opening of a hardware store, on an hour’s notice.

Beat that, Barack Hussein Ogabe, you gangling, crack-smoking pimp.  But then, I guess there are no chapters in Alinsky for dealing with forces of nature.  The affirmative-action incompetent in the White House and his loathsome Chicago handlers are way out of their depth dealing with Palin, as we saw last fall when her mesmerizing speech at the Republican National Convention sent Ogabe’s Potemkin village campaign into a tailspin (rescued, just in the nick of time, by the spectacular collapse of the Federal Reserve’s stock-jobbing house of cards).

Herewith, therefore, a link to SarahPAC, where you can donate a few Yankee dollars to our first female President’s political action committee, as I did this afternoon — yes, my widow’s mite goes to Sarah, and cheerfully done:


I trust Gov. Palin will continue to be the focus of support not only for us Constitutionalists, populists, paleoconservatives, libertarians, and values voters, but also for all you Republicans of good will out there who think McCain, Grahamnesty and Lamar Alexander (the last two voted to confirm Red Sonia Sotomayor) and the rest of those country-club Viagravators should get bent.


Grahamnesty : Does the depilated old queen imagine that thin, tight rictus passes for a smile? And that porcine nose, as though he were constantly scenting his own sulphurous fart.  Would that Mencken were living at this day, to satirize this high prole come up in the world, or better yet Catullus, with his Celtiberian nouveaux riches proudly showing their teeth on the slightest pretext, freshly brushed with Spanish piss.

Speaking of country clubs, the principle-free zone that is Mitt “Stop Me if You’ve Heard Me Deny the Divinity of Christ Before” Romney, and the rest of the Grand Old Plutocrats, better be nice to Sarah. Remember the last banker with a personality bypass who crossed us and thought he could still be president? The one defeated by Perot and succeeded by Clinton?

Scantily clad, but at least I’m not a pervert.


Er, HOW exactly does the sin of posing for a cheesecake shot rise to the level of pushing to sacramentalize sodomy? There’s a big difference between poking the body politic in the ribs with a fingertip and aiming hatchet blows at its knees, you’ll observe. Anyway, as Dr Johnson said, “You may scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you cannot make a table. It is not your trade to make tables.”

And will MS-DNC, the pukey Today Show and the other house organs of liberalism can the phony prudery already?  Tasteless hypocrites — on normal days, the Left trips over itself in its haste to file for federal court injunctions so child pornographers aren’t inconvenienced returning us to Graeco-Roman moral filth (Stoics excepted).  As HotAir’s AllahPundit observes:

“It’s very late in the day culturally to be feigning shock at material like this — and yet NBC, the network that aired photos and video of the Virginia Tech killer glorifying himself, has decided that the pic’s simply too hot for the Peacock to handle. A cynic might wonder if they want viewers to imagine that it’s worse than it is. Good thing I’m not a cynic.”

Me too; you don’t think it’s possible the bores at NBC are bought’n’paid for by the Obomber Democrats, do you?  I thought they just reported the news.

Meanwhile, even liberal CNN’s reporter was forced to observe, with a nice dry wit:  “It was unclear whether pageant officials would consider that [shot] a semi-nude photo, in light of their standard requirement that contestants parade across stage wearing a bikini that arguably shows more skin.”  You think?  The HRC’s little gambit here is tepid and clumsy; it’s pretty clear they’re just lurching from expedient to expedient in handling Carrie Prejean and NOM (needless to say, the beetle-browed lesbians at HRC don’t have talent on the order of Robert George behind them, as NOM does).

Hats off to Maggie Gallagher and NOM for standing by Carrie in this faux-crisis, by the way.  The gay “marriage” lobby’s character assassins will have to get up a lot earlier in the morning than this, to buffalo a gritty sometime chairman of the Party of the Right at Yale like Gallagher (I know, I’ve debated a few).  She’s more man than “Perez Hilton” has ever had and more woman than he’ll ever be, except weight-wise of course; the loathsome Hilton weighs three hundred pounds if he weighs an ounce, or at least he did before ingesting a tapeworm in an emergency bid to shed a few layers of blubber.

En passant, can any Lusophones out there confirm that the ostensible family name of Mario Lavandeira (“Perez Hilton”) is Portuguese?  Fluent in Spanish, I know that if you reverse the “i” and the “r” in “Lavandeira” you get lavandería, which means laundromat or place where the poor scrub dirty linen on pockmarked rocks.  Oddly appropriate, when you see “Hilton” in the flesh — lots of it.  The little toadstool’s positively shrouded in fat — and won’t some humanitarian buy the squashy creature a bra?  Those moobs are heinous:


“The gay corpse bride of Janet Reno,” as one of my tart-tongued friends at Y.A.F. calls her.


Left wing radical Janet Napolitano cries wolf about right wing radicals. As the local yokels say here in California: “Umm… Whut?”  Oh yes, that’s credible. The Orwellian part: DHS will be snooping “over the next several months” into “rightwing extremist activity” — i.e. exercise of 1st, 2nd and 10th Amendment freedoms by anyone to the right of the ultra-left Obama claque — surely 95% of the citizenry (can’t vouch for illegal aliens like Obama’s aunt).

It seems the unibrowed Madame Sappho has really put her big, sensibly-shod foot right in the middle of it this time: the American Legion demands the old bawd take back her slur on the Republic’s returning veterans. How about ritual suicide too? So what if veterans, or any citizen, are prepared to take up arms to save American liberties? Yes, just think of the bad company they’d be in: Washington, Jefferson, young Andrew Jackson.

And now today we learn that the old bag stands by her slur.  Mme Stalin and the NKVD speak: “DHS will continue to… prevent and protect against the potential threat to the United States associated with any rise in violent extremist activity.” Madam, it is YOU, and your non-patriotic president, who are the threat to the United States, actual not potential; your mouth’s writing checks your party can’t cash. “Violent extremist activity”? Your career up to this very day and hour.

Subaru (SOO-bah-roo)(n.).  (1) Metal casing for a douchebag. (2) Preferred foreign car of lesbian schoolmarms, Sierra Club yippies and other anti-American bores.


Bourgie brat of Marin malingerers, madrassah-mentored, and the malingerers themselves appeal to Pres. Bush to let the Littlest Jihadi out of prison early — in the spirit of mercy of the Christmas season! Er, um, WHY exactly are the tender flower of Bay leftism and his enablers appealing to mercy in the season of Christ’s Nativity? I mean, they hate Him after all — the religion Johnny brandished arms to impose on the world flatly denies the Incarnation, and the Dhimmicrats who bred him spend all their time, when not zooming “zombie-like at the wheels of their BMWs” to and fro the counting houses of San Fran, filing suit to tear down courthouse Crèches (gotta make room for those Code Pink witches’ sabbaths).

Here I can’t do better than recall Mark Twain’s incisive portrait of the wailers and gnashers of teeth who always blame the victim and pity the perp.  From chapter 33 of Tom Sawyer:

This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing — the petition to the governor for Injun Joe’s pardon. The petition had been largely signed; many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail around the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five citizens of the village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself there would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names to a pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently impaired and leaky water-works.

Just so.

Beauty and two beasts (l to r): Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK); untalented lesbian nobody; C-list Hollywood starlet Lintseed Lame-ham.

(Purulence, CA) Lintseed Lame-ham, professional lesbian and poxed whore popular with teenagers, today awarded her coveted Presidential endorsement to first-term Senator Barack Hussein Obama (Marxist-IL). In giving Obama her imprimatur and attacking Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK) Lame-ham joins other grave elder statesmen such as Pam Anderson, Margaret Cho and Matt Damon.

Asked whether she was troubled by Obama’s now-notorious racist remark that “White folks’ greed runs a world in need,” since she is a rich white folk herself, Lame-ham laughed off the question. “He can, like, totally say that ’cause he IS white. He’s only black in the sense his mama was fortuitously fertilized by a traveling Kenyan academic. Other’n that, he’s been fostered solely by rich white-guilt people, from Punahou prep school to Harvard.” Asked if she knew what a law review is or why Obama mysteriously never wrote any legal scholarship while purportedly editing one, Lint-seed averted her raccoon-mascara eyes and popped her gum a little louder.

Lame-ham then smirked, or perhaps it was only a fleeting flatulence, fore or aft. “Imagine the reaction in the Kool-Aid media if John McCain had said ‘Black folkssloth makes the spinning of the moth.’ Like, omigod…” Here Lint-seed interrupted herself to plunge a hand down her waistband, scratching what seemed to be a fiery itch high on her inner thigh. When relief obtained she withdrew fingernail from fundament and resumed: “Yeah, and Sarah Palin’s like, crass and stupid or something.”


Asked whether she could locate Alaska on a map without assistance, Lint-seed bristled: “Of course! That’s that state in the South where the Democrat governor turned fire hoses on black people, but then Abraham Washington freed the slaves so everything was like, okay and shit, and…” Here Lame-ham again broke off, raising the aforementioned fingernail to nostril, then gingerly fingered her upper lip, red and puffy from what appeared to be carpet burn.