You know, we can play around with the notion of engaging in a little rat play (I tried it, but I was just experimenting), but we’ll never mack rat bitchez like them GOP pimps.  Speaking of which, the McCain camp is so desperate to pop a rat nut that they’re bypassing surrogates altogether and letting Sarah Palin play DC Madam.  She’s not even feigning coquettishness: replacing fluttering eyelashes with salacious winks.  Poor Rich Lowry’s couch must be covered in starburst.

I’m not sure how this will play out, but after watching how the American people panned Palin’s debate performance, I’ve found myself with a strange sense of optimism.  Maybe we’re not that dumb after all, or maybe, in the alternative, the economy is so shitty that we’ll actually elect a semi-competent/not completely sociopathic politician.  Yeah, I know, that’s the kind of optimism that usually precedes some soul-crushing disappointment that leaves me pondering suicide or emigration to Canada (more or less the same thing).  But this time (I tell myself) it’ll be different.

Just to be sure, though, Joe Klein of all people points us in the direction of some handy ratphylactics to be distributed with extreme unprejudice: The traitorous Palin and her ties to the Alaska Independence Party, and the McCain camp’s numerous connections to wingnutty anti-Semites (yeah, I hit that). 

The naive side of me is tempted to point to this foul bit of racist venom from one of McCain’s reps in Macacaville as well. But the cynical side of me (who, with a cruel sneer and chortle, is capable of sending the naive side scurrying for cover) reminds me that shining a light on racist dreck would merely fire up McCain’s base.  Free publicity and all.

As The General might say, march on little soldiers.