Maureen Dowd and "Sarah's Secret Diary"

Maureen Dowd is obsessed, as are many on the Left, with Sarah Palin. She is absolutely obsessed. Maybe possessed is a better term.

What will it take for the Left to let Palin go? An exorcism? It's as though Palin has embedded herself in their souls and taken over.

I guess they see Palin as a very powerful woman and a very threatening woman. Dowd certainly wouldn't bother to devote column after column to trashing a bimbo.

In her column in today's New York Times, "Sarah's Secret Diary," Dowd exercises her Harlequin romance novel skills. Again, Dowd plays as the pulp fiction princess, a frustrated novelist.

Dowd writes:

Dear Diary,

I know. Incredibly lame.

No one understands me. It’s like I’m speaking some Eskimo dialect or something. Andrea Mitchell follows me all the way to Kanakanak Beach and I get a French manicure and set up this huge photo op for her, even though she spooked the salmon.

Todd and me are in our cool fishing bibs. Piper’s helping out on the boat. It’s an amazing day that shows how our Creator favored my beloved Alaska, gatekeeper of the continent, and makes a great shot for all the network reporters up here to milk. This progresses me away from my image as some kind of flaky “rogue diva” and back to my image as a tough huntin’ and fishin’ gal.

But Andrea makes such a darn big deal about how I’m quitting in the middle of my term.

“You’re not listening to me!” I snap.

She says maybe I didn’t want to go back to the nitty-gritty of Alaska politics after the bright lights of the national campaign.

“The nitty-gritty, like, you mean, the fish slime and the dirt under the fingernails and stuff that’s me?” I said. Awesome response, huh?!!

It’s the same old double standard. I am not one of those who would whine and cuss. It’s just not how I’m wired!!! But the minute I start to whine and cuss, the mainstream media totally misunderstands my verbiage and the combination of things that brought me to this place of knowing. And I know that I know that I know those crappy bloggers will put out more confliction stories.

I keep explaining what impacted me, but everyone seems more confused and ironic than ever. What is it about average, hard-working Americans like me that Americans can’t understand?

I love Alaska too much to waste any more time on her Bridge to Nowhere. I need to be able to go forth out there and fight for what is right. And what is right is for me and my First Dude to take that big fish run to the White House.

So people should stop being so stinkin’ mean to me because this is a goal-setting thing, a full-court press, a sub-four marathon. Karl Rove thinks I’m not prepared for the national stage??? Pundits think I should read a book before I write one??? Man, I feel a grizzly rising up in me!!!

Every mom we know multitasks. And I am one to believe I can use an all-of-the-above approach, too. I can abandon Alaska and ambition myself for the presidency. I can get bored with my job and fight apathy. I can take the easy path out to work hard on a path for fruitfulness. I can move on selfishly and call it altruistically. I don’t need a title now when I can shake up the good ol’ boys and get a better title in the end.

Actually, this isn't the stuff of a Harlequin romance novel. It's not like pulp fiction. This column is far less sophisticated.

This pretend diary has all the depth of a child lashing out in a tantrum.

I wonder if Dowd wrote mock diaries of her junior high and high school nemeses.

Her column reads like the spiteful mockery spewed by a really mean girl.

Rather than write a straight analysis, Dowd takes shots at Palin's life, her family, and her intelligence.

It's pathetic. It's not clever or insightful. It's all very weird.

You didn’t really think I was going anywhere, did you? I’m one of Google’s hot trends. We’re doing a fund-raising push this week on SarahPAC to destroy Obama’s attempt to destroy capitalism. And forget about Obama’s youth revolution. I posed for a cheesecake shot in Runner’s World with short-shorts and a crumpled American flag that’s destined to be on the bedroom wall of every conservative 12-year-old boy. It’s the metaphor, stupid! Heck yeah, I’m running! As I learned when I was a beauty contestant — flags and gams show you it’s about country.

And before you say anything though about the glam shots of me stretching and preening on the waterfront in my cute running outfits, don’t bother. That would be a sexist double standard.

Nobody said anything when Obama walked around in Hawaii without his shirt, showing off his washboard abs. Well, maybe they did, but I betcha they say more about me because, of course, we know by now, for some reason, a different standard applies to my decisions.

It’s just like when Obama, the One Who Must Be Obeyed, said his family was off-limits so everyone left them alone. But they never left mine alone. Thank goodness for that though because we hate being out of the limelight! It was a blast to see Bristol with my grandbaby Tripp on the cover of People as the ambassadress of abstinence!

Good grief. This is really nasty.

It's very clear that Dowd has no respect whatsoever for Palin. None.

Is it Palin that Dowd disdains or is it people like Palin?

Whatever, it seems that Dowd just isn't happy unless she has someone to hate with every fiber of her being.

I think it's possible that the Leftists hate Palin more than George W. Bush. That's saying a lot.

It’s the same different standard with the dirt-digging behind these frivolous ethics complaints. As I told the reporters who chased me up here, if I were in the White House instead of Alaska, the Department of Law down there would look at some of the things that we’ve been charged with and automatically throw them out. Later, the media brats began making a big, fat ugly scene about there being no Department of Law in Washington.

I say, tell that to the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan who are risking their lives to protect our system of laws. How sad that the unpatriotic, godless media picking away at me will never understand it’s about country.

It’s about me running the country.

It’s about me running.

It’s about me.

The media doesn’t get Sarah Palin. I hear planes buzzing. Oh, no!! Have they all left?? Even that Time reporter who I showed how to smoke salmon???

Obviously, Dowd has issues. It's sad.

Instead of making Palin look bad, I think this column boomerangs on Dowd.

This column is a cry for help. She needs to talk to someone about her inner torment.

Perhaps Dowd keeps her own secret diary, Are You There God? It's Me, Maureen.