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THE CUTE AND FUN SARAH PALIN, while grinning and winking and droppin’ gs galore, is very cleverly tossing rancid scraps to the beasts of violence and fear that shuffle in the shadows cast by John McCain’s campaign and the GOP. You’ve heard it before, but here’s a lingual breakdown that makes the case in a convincing and terrifying way.
OKAY, at first I was in pain listening to this guy sing. But by the time I got to “perdoname” and his throaty rose number singing, I was cracking up. Here’s a little YouTubeness to take off the heavy edge we often get into round here.
I feel we need more permission to be less conclusive and less defined and to bleed over our boundaries a bit. That approach is even what allows me to shift and change in the ways I do. Any label or title we fit upon ourselves ought immediately feel like a crown of thorns, ought immediately be suspect and deemed temporary at best. When we draw those concrete boundaries, those barbed-wire assignments—even around only ourselves—we are also deciding that others ought be contained in the remaining space.
Taking Spanish classes in 2006 wasn’t easy. I had to leave my friend behind. My friend, my magical power, my lifeboat. The English Language. I had to agree, for an hour at a time, to get out and walk. To know nothing. (Or very little.) To be quiet. Or I didn’t have to agree to be quiet. But for once, there was no other choice.
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