Here's another NIXONLAND parallel. In 1966 George Wallace, when he couldn't run for governor again because of Alabama law, decided to run his wife Lurleen instead.

I love this bit from a September 2 Wall Street Journal article about Wasilla, Alaska, under the Sarah Palin regime:

Wasilla has neither a planning nor a zoning board, and it shows. “The box stores and businesses are king,” says Curt Menard, mayor of Matanuska-Susitna Borough, which includes Wasilla. The town “is a wild, wild West show, in the development sense.”

Enormously gratifying to see how many bloggers have found my book NIXONLAND illuminating of Sara Palin's speech last night, and of the Republicans' convention narrative generally.

Since Sarah Palin's speech was allegedly already written even before she was picked as John McCain's running mate, I think it's fair game to run a piece I wrote before she was John McCain's running mate...

Last night's liveblogging was an Intertubular freak; the Xcel Center is supposed to be a wifi-free zone during the proceedings, but somehow the gods smiled on your humble correspondent, and I got a couple of hours to throw up some posts. Then, like a summer rain, it was over before you could blink. But I kept on liveblogging the old-fashioned way--in my Moleskin notebooks.

I'm sufficiently bored to start cruising Proquest Newsstand for references to the Republican running mate's future son-in-law, Levi Johnston. Perlstein shoots, Perlstein scores!

Wasilla hockey enters break on a hot streak; [State Final Edition]

Copyright The McClatchy Company Dec 23, 2007

TR on the video screen gets no applause, nor his founding of the National Parks Service.

Who's "acclaimed inger and songwriter Rachael Lampa?" Others seem as baffled as I, save for the fourteen people in the Ohio delegation clapping along. (Ms. Lampa, it arrives, sings like a mouse, only more out of tune.)

Third person of color on the podium, a South Asian adoptee.

I keep waiting for someone from the New York Times to come and kick me out of their seat, but they're apparently somewhere else, doing something more exciting. Like defrosting the refrigerator.

Here's another NIXONLAND parallel. In 1966 George Wallace, when he couldn't run for governor again because of Alabama law, decided to run his wife Lurleen instead.

I love this bit from a September 2 Wall Street Journal article about Wasilla, Alaska, under the Sarah Palin regime:

Wasilla has neither a planning nor a zoning board, and it shows. “The box stores and businesses are king,” says Curt Menard, mayor of Matanuska-Susitna Borough, which includes Wasilla. The town “is a wild, wild West show, in the development sense.”

Enormously gratifying to see how many bloggers have found my book NIXONLAND illuminating of Sara Palin's speech last night, and of the Republicans' convention narrative generally.

Since Sarah Palin's speech was allegedly already written even before she was picked as John McCain's running mate, I think it's fair game to run a piece I wrote before she was John McCain's running mate...

Last night's liveblogging was an Intertubular freak; the Xcel Center is supposed to be a wifi-free zone during the proceedings, but somehow the gods smiled on your humble correspondent, and I got a couple of hours to throw up some posts. Then, like a summer rain, it was over before you could blink. But I kept on liveblogging the old-fashioned way--in my Moleskin notebooks.

I'm sufficiently bored to start cruising Proquest Newsstand for references to the Republican running mate's future son-in-law, Levi Johnston. Perlstein shoots, Perlstein scores!

Wasilla hockey enters break on a hot streak; [State Final Edition]

Copyright The McClatchy Company Dec 23, 2007

TR on the video screen gets no applause, nor his founding of the National Parks Service.

Who's "acclaimed inger and songwriter Rachael Lampa?" Others seem as baffled as I, save for the fourteen people in the Ohio delegation clapping along. (Ms. Lampa, it arrives, sings like a mouse, only more out of tune.)

Third person of color on the podium, a South Asian adoptee.

I keep waiting for someone from the New York Times to come and kick me out of their seat, but they're apparently somewhere else, doing something more exciting. Like defrosting the refrigerator.