02 December 2009

Yule betcha'

No, your eyes are not deceiving you, you are indeed seeing a brand new copy of "Going Rogue" on Unkie Dave's desk.

No, I did not mistake it for a "30 Rock" tell-all; no, I have not gone way off the old age/conservatism chart despite my 37th birthday approaching faster than a Fianna Fail denial of clerical culpability; no, I have not been pushed to the limits of unbridled and inflamed passion by certain patriotic spandex-clad magazine covers. In fact, this artifact so tainted that my hands were burned simply by touching it comes courtesy of the season of good will to all men and peace on earth (except obviously Afghanistan).

Then did I receive it as a present by someone who so obviously has never read a single post on this blog, nor conversed with me for longer than a sixty second elevator pitch (so, basically its an online auction site for unwanted children, we're going with 'eBaby' as our launch name. By the way, do you know that neocons feast on the livers of Iraqi Marsh Arabs? Its what keeps their hair so buoyant and glacier-white.)?

Nope, alas, I have no one to blame for this slight increase in Mrs Palin's bank balance but myself.

My grandfather is an anomaly, unlike most human beings he has actually become more socially liberal and progressive as he grew older. I wouldn't suggest that he is excessively liberal, just that he is rather more so than he was twenty years ago. He however still has one major flaw, and its a bit of a big one, Fox News. Why any Irishman living in Ireland should ever choose to watch Fox is beyond me, but thanks to the evils of satellite television he now spends an unhealthy amount of time in the Lair of the White Worm, or Rupert Murdoch as he calls himself in the US.

He claims that he only watches it to laugh at/mock it, saying "why would I want to listen to someone I agree with, where is the fun in that?", but my sisters and I still worry that slowly and surely his brain is being removed and replaced by a mildewing kumquat incapable of telling reality from a poorly weaved narrative of bile and hatred.

Since Fox News entered the house our Christmas presents for him have veered between actively combating this addiction (my sister produced a plethora of Al Franken books, and the 'Out Foxed" documentary one year) and mocking it, and this year I have gone with trying to do both. I figured the easiest way to dissuade my grandfather from any positive notions he may secretly harbour about Palin and her demagoguery is to simply let him read her own ghostwritten story in her own ghostwritten words. Job done.

I emailed my sisters to let them know of my cunning plan, so they don't all independently buy the book as well and further engorge her coffers, and justified my actions by saying that it was either this book, or Glenn Beck's.

My sister wrote back to say that she had already got him Glenn Beck's.

We might just be being too clever here for our own good. If Palin/Beck 2012 flags start to appear in our garden, I think we might only have ourselves to blame.

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