Categorical Aperitif

It's produced some humdingers, I tell you what. Now Rosanne has a hilarious little piece in The Nation called "Why I'd Be a Better VP than Sarah Palin." This awesome sentence-length paragraph sums it up quite nicely, but you'll have to read the whole in order for it to have its full effect—and please do:

In summation, I present myself to the GOP as a woman, and I repeat, woman, who has held a passport for thirty-eight years, a lip gloss-wearing soccer-volleyball-softball-gymnastics mom of five, who can carry a six-pack home to her husband like nobody's business, whose will is firmly aligned with God's will, a neo-natal conservative and legally savvy public figure, a border-watching, trigonometry-credited, breastfeeding, BlackBerry-tapping, cat-throwing maverick whose daughters are out of their teens, therefore immune to teenage pregnancy (although this is a private, family matter), and whose dad's head (or an eerie facsimile) adorns a state airline.

The sad thing is that whip-smart, witty, talented singer-songwriter Rosanne Cash would make a better VP than the person the McCain campaign actually tapped to run for that job—which is undoubtedly one of the reasons why more and more people are uttering that marvelous word landslide as they look at the polls and contemplate an ever-likelier Obama victory. Hell, most of the people in Lyle Lovett's address book would probably make a better VP than Sarah Palin—and one of those is Julia Roberts. Yikes.