Politics is Loco
“All politics is loco,” someone once said. Something like that, anyway. Might have been Tip O’Neill, might have been Tipper Gore, and I may be misremembering the exact wording of the quote, but you get the point. You have no doubt witnessed the breathless attention given to yesterday’s announcement that reality TV star, noted hockey mom and for a brief time—until she grew tired of coming into the office—Governor of Alaska Sarah Palin endorsed Donald Trump for President. But the real scoop is right here.
Not since Bachblog’s exclusive behind-the-scenes coverage of the moment John McCain’s Presidential campaign jumped the shark have we enjoyed such a revealing peek into the inner workings of the Grand Old Party as what is reproduced below.
This candid conversation between two of America’s leading intellectuals and most important 21st-century political philosophers was captured (inadvertently?) by wiretapping operatives at the NSA. It arrived as an audio file via email from an anonymous source in Russia going by the online name of “Comrade Ed Snowman.” It is presented unedited.
Edited August 19, 2016 (see footnote).
[In the transcript below: L = Low-level lackey on the Trump staff, T = Donald Trump and P = Sarah Palin.]
L: Sir, I have the ex-governor of Alaska on the line. Would you like to speak with her?
T: Palin? That bimbo’s pulled her lips off of that Canadian Cubanist Ted Cruz long enough to condescend to talk to me? Tell her to go to hell. Or back to her trailer park, whichever she prefers. I don’t care which.
L: She says she plans to endorse your campaign.
T: Really? She must have noticed Cruz’s tail. Put her on the phone.
L: Okay, I’ll put her through. Ms Palin? I have Mr Trump on the line.
P: Donald! How are you?
T: I’m great, Sarah. I’m a rich son-of-a-bitch, you know. Of course I’m great. How are you and the fam?
P: I’m good. They’re good. I gotta tell ya, we’re enjoying this global warming up here in Alaska. I’m going to lay out later and work on my tan. No tan lines!
T: Great, great! I saw that daughter of yours on TV the other day. She’s lost some weight. Doesn’t look like a right-wing Rosie O’Donnell anymore. She still spitting out bastard grandchildren for you?
P: Oh Donald, you are such a kidder. Bristol almost married the second guy.
T: I gotta say, darling, I admire her. She should lose a little more weight and maybe get a boob job, but she seems to be a good kid. Could be a job for her in my administration. I’m a big fan of the work she has been doing for that teen pregnancy prevention program.
P: Oh you betcha! So am I, so am I. Me and her father …
T: Turd?
P: Todd.
T: That’s right, it’s your sons with the strange names. What are they? Truck, Trick and Trogg, right?
P: You kidder, Don! Can I call you Don?
T: Nobody calls me Don. Are you out of your mind? I’m filthy rich and I’m on my own plane right now. You think anyone calls me Don? Get out!
P: Okay, Mr Trump it is. I didn’t ask about your family. How is everyone?
T: You’ve seen my daughter, what do you think? She’s rich. Have you seen her body? Spectacular, and it’s mostly real. She can afford the best pair of knockers medical science can offer, but she was born with the real deals. She’s a knockout. Of course she’s good.
P: Okay, but let me tell you why I called.
T: Shoot, sweetheart.
P: You know I don’t want Hillary to be our first woman President. God, even that German Angela Mackerel is prettier than Hillary. I think you are the most electable Republican, and I need some attention so I’m going to announce my support for your campaign today.
T: Really? I’m surprised. I thought you were in bed with that psycho from Texas, that Canadian-born troglodyte. Not that I’ll ever have anything bad to say about another Republican, but that scumbag is beyond the pale.
P: Ted Cruz is a fine man, but I want you to make America great again.
T: God damn right I will. No thoughts of throwing your own panties into the ring?
P: Throw my hat, you mean?
T: Hat, panties, garter belt—whatever you have. Are you going to try to hijack the convention?
P: No no no. I’ve got tons of irons on fire, you know? I’m a busy woman and wouldn’t have time to be President. I would consider running for Vice President, though. Nice office, not a lot to do. I could see myself in that job.
T: You think Turd wants to live in Washington? He races sled dogs and shoots at Caribou from helicopters, doesn’t he? Can’t do much of that in Washington.
P: Todd would probably stay here in Alaska. We could stand to have a little time apart, if you know what I mean.
T: Yes, yes I do. There’s a stewardess on this plane—I own the plane and I own her too. Well I’m not gonna have the coffee OR the tea, if you know what I mean.
P: Rowr! You got any male stewardesses on that thing?
T: Hell no.
P: Damn the bad luck.
T: Okay, okay, okay. I’m a busy man. And a rich man. Gotta wrap this up. I appreciate your offer. I will certainly consider you for the #2 job. Or another job in Washington. Secretary of something-or-other. Secretary of Women maybe. Otherwise, I’m a rich man. I could buy you a double wide trailer today, if you’d like.
P: Well, I’m good with the trailer. But I’ve seen that Julie Louie Dreyfus on TV. I could veep good as her. She’s a dingbat. You should think about me, er, it, eh? I bring a lot of baggage under the table. Pretty sure I could deliver Idaho—they still love me there. Alaska might be a problem, but who needs its pitiful three electoral votes anyway?
T: Okay, okay, okay. I’m thinking about it. Stay in touch. Wave to those Ruskies now, and if you see that Putin, let him know I’m going to kiss his commie ass.[1]
P: Bye bye, Donald.
T: Bye bye, sweetheart.
—
Notes
- A re-analysis of the audio file reveals that the word initially transcribed “kick” in Trump’s comment about Vladimir Putin is actually “kiss.” We apologize for the error. The correction is in place. [^]
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