Remember the fence? It wasn’t high enough. In case you haven’t heard, author Joe McGinnis’s new book about Sarah Palin has a salacious sports section:

Palin allegedly slept with future NBA star (Glen) Rice when he was a University of Michigan student playing at the Great Alaska Shootout. The one-night stand supposedly happend in Palin’s sister Molly’s dorm room at the University of Alaska. Palin was a TV sports reporter at the time. And dating her future husband*. “I remember Sarah feeling pretty good that she’d been with a black basketball star,” a source told the National Enquirer, according to The Daily Mail. (The supermarket tabloid often limits its online content.)

I felt I knew too much about Sarah already yesterday when I caught the story and now I want to rip off my mind’s ears. Not because of the details, but because they are considered “news.”

I doubt I’ll ever read McGinnis’s book. I am uninterested in Sarah. She offers nothing new, ever. Her act is as lame and stale and old as her lipstick-begrimed sportscaster’s microphone foam. Take a magic marker to the edge of any page in Going Rogue where she talks of flesh, meat, eating, blood, killing, or shooting, and the blood cult that cheers for letting the uninsured die starts to make sense when you look at the book end-on. That’s what you need to know about Sarah Palin.

Another tome I certainly shan’t be reading is Sarah Palin’s America by Heart: Reflections on Family, Faith, and Flag. Passing its display table at Books-A-Million, I noticed America by Heart was half the size of Glenn Beck’s latest book, but of equal thickness. I briefly considered an experiment to determine their relative density, but decided it was a waste of time.

Like Sarah.

Every moment spent talking about Sarah Palin as anything other than just another celebutard is wasted air. Outside the covers of a celebrity noise tabloid, every drop of ink spilled in her name is a waste of paper. I find myself not caring about any part of her strange career anymore, yet news of her wasted life presses itself at me relentlessly. I should like to build a fence and keep it out if I could. Or better yet, a shark tank. But it simply isn’t possible.

Sarah Palin has a rabid following. It never dies. Part of it is that her appeal is unarguably sexual. One of the top-ranking posts of all time on this website was about her breasts, or rather the  rumor that she’d added silicone to them. That post, like this one, was a facepalm in words: Sarah Palin is a fetish, not a contender.

This explains why Palin is such an accomplished shark-jumper. She jumped the shark in 2008, again in 2009, all through 2010, and may yet continue in 2011 by pretending she has a shot at 2012. After so many sharks jumped, isn’t it apparent to everyone that Sarah Palin is a celebrity performer with only one act?

In her own mind, she has already won the biggest prize of all: loving fans. Sarah Palin is playing pageant queen.

For those who haven’t heard, Sarah’s new show will include interviews with L.L. Cool J and Toby Keith. Actually, the show will be Sarah presenting old interviews with the stars. Both Cool J and Keith have let it be known they have never met Sarah.

That is because no TV executive in his right mind would put the woman in a studio interview that wasn’t tightly-controlled, even as a host. Sarah would probably refuse to do that kind of show anyway because presentation is pretty much all she can handle.

God forbid she has an actual conversation with someone who’s not a sycophant; and homework on a guest? Fuggetaboutit.

Worse, Sarah Palin without a script could very well turn into the How Sue Sees It segment on Glee:

There’s enormous potential downside because this Alaskan flake melts down easily. Murdoch and Ailes will never find a use for her that makes back anything like the money they will spend — but that is not the point of having her on the air. She’s the face of the right’s new permanent revolution, after all.

Like MySpace, she’ll never quite go away; she’ll just linger there sucking up revenue.

ThinkProgress has a list of her statements about a third party; up til now she has taken the more popular position among teabaggers that the movement shouldn’t form its own party. But Sarah was never good at that consistent-thought thing, and she’s always eager to grow her personality cult one way or another.

Yes, Republicans, your creation will now go to war with you. Bad enough it was shouting insults and spitting on Congress members over the weekend; now it’s going to take all those RNC-supplied signs and attack you with them. But keep it up! You’re doing great!

She’s flirted with tea party televangelism; now she wants her own reality show. Somehow, it seems to me the natural end of the Sarah Palin story is a non-reality-based “reality show.” Think “John and Kate” with extra moose-hunting.

What’s sad is that she actually sees this as a step up in the world.

Of course, Celebrity Barbie has no capacity for self-examination, which is why she will never know that her sad paranoia and diva attitude piss people off. It’s the second coming of Anna Nichole Smith.

Teh Train Wreck™ continues off the rails and long past Denial Station.

The presumptive 2012 Republican nominee actually has 29% of Americans convinced she might be qualified to be president. This is the frightening result of a Washington Post-ABC poll. Did I mention that I live among an unusual concentration of such people?

The numbers are similar to Bush’s late approval numbers. So as far as I’m concerned, the Republicans can go ahead and crown her; she’s only going to say more stupid between now and then. The electorate knows what they’re seeing, but it will take time for the true believers to realize that she’s just cashing in on the ignorance she promotes.

Palin’s permanent revolution is a train wreck that left Denial Station on November 5th, 2008, and whistled past acceptance a long time ago. There will be no president Sarah and she knows it. But she would rather play queen anyway. Expect the old white men who DO plan to run in 2012 to  fawn all over her like a schoolboy crush.

Sorry about the audio quality at two points; there’s nothing I can do until such time as Teh Evil Plan™ sees fit to cut me a fat check to buy better equipment.

If you haven’t read my account of what happened as we tried to leave, you should.

Here’s the first Sarahpalooza for comparison:

Gaylord. Heh. Sumptuous digs for a "populist" movement.

Well, last night was interesting.

I needed to be in Nashville yesterday anyway, so I crashed the tea party at the Gaylord (heh!) Grand Ole Opry Hotel and Convention Center to catch as much video as possible. I went as a citizen journalist with every intention of promoting my work via Huffington Post in all probability, but in the form of You Tube video that will be available elsewhere (including, and especially, my own website).

I introduced myself as Matt Osborne to everyone who asked. No one asked if I was with a media organization, including the woman who eventually “threw me out,” until Sarah’s speech was over and I was literally leaving the way I’d come. I got silent video of convention participants and Judge Roy Moore of Ye Ten Commandments. I talked to “media colleagues” and got samples of the propaganda. Though I was refused entry to the ballroom to so much as take a photo of Sarah, I watched a little of her speech on somebody’s laptop.

After getting shots through the wide-open banquet hall doors, I proceeded to interview two participants off-camera for research purposes. I didn’t take quotes and continued introducing myself as Matt Osborne.

I say all of this as prologue to explain that I’m working on a video involving Andy Breitbart; I was hoping to run into him, but was more concerned with getting video to lay out the narrative of astroturfery and right-wing nontroversy. If you follow my posts at HuffPo or my blog, you know that these are very big areas of interest for me; they’re subjects on which Maddow has reported as well.

So just in case I ran into Breitbart, I had decided to adopt the O’Keefe method: I went under pretext. The best part is, I did not lie about these things, and still got plenty of video. As far as professional ethics go, I think I did pretty well. My girlfriend thought it would be fun to try and say she was a high school senior working on a report for her government class; she does in fact appear quite young, but she’s no professional. Nevertheless, it’s her camera.

As I said, I got GREAT video that will be ready later today (I hope), but I didn’t get to meet or see Breitbart. So I was on my way out the same way I came in (the back door leads to the Opry Mills Mall parking lot; the facility has 24-7 public access) when I was stopped by a woman who claimed to be the event’s media liaison.

She had the a sharp, angry tone of a harpy. Mind you, this woman had already caught sight of us and the camera shortly after we came in  and did nothing. When I now held out my hand and introduced myself as Matt Osborne, she asked me who I was with and I suddenly grew devil’s horns. Remember, I had already done what I’d come to do; just to find out what would happen, I said two words that may get me in real trouble:

“Huffington Post.”

I said that because (of course) Huffington Post is not a “real media organization” (while Breitbart, who borrowed the Huffington Post business model to spread demonstrable lies and paranoid racist agit-prop, was a central figure at the convention). Huffington Post alone does not get invited to the tea party. Wing Nut Daily is more “respectable.”

The harpy said I would have been treated like any other media organization if I had checked in with her, but I got VIDEO of their plan for me. No thanks — the media room was on the opposite end of the extremely large building, and reporters from other news agencies described an oppressive atmosphere.

Remember, I used public access. I took video of people already appearing on video. I didn’t tape or record interviews. As far as ethics are concerned, I’ll gladly compare mine to James O’Keefe any bloody day. Which must be why I grinned when the harpy said she should have expected as much, that HuffPo was an unprofessional outfit and I was the perfect example.

I tore a page out of the Breitbart-O’Keefe playbook and she called me “unprofessional.” Let that sink in.

Anyway: the harpy texted or tweeted someone. I did not have a press credential from HuffPo (I don’t think they have any, actually) so I began to explain that I am an unpaid blogger for Huffington Post…but she was already calling security as the words started coming out of my mouth.

The harpy said that I was to be detained and held for questioning, which was not about to happen for any number of reasons. It’s still the goddamn United States of America; I am not easily intimidated by civilians playing tinfoil god. I also found her highly offensive, so I just said “no” and turned to walk away.

Then the harpy followed me (she would follow me all the way to my car, she said). She attempted to taunt us (laughable) and hollered that we were in terrible trouble — which, in fact, we were; my girlfriend has breathing problems and was now having difficulty getting enough air.

When the harpy realized how I’d accessed the building, she took verbal offense that I had not paid $18 for self-parking. At that point I turned to her in an attempt at reconciliation; there were no grounds for arresting us, and my girlfriend was having a panic attack.

Which is the moment the harpy called the police. Irony: I was in a building full of people convinced the president was an illegitimate foreign agent bent on removing their constitutional rights.

We lost her and made a clean extraction, but there’s no video of all this — my girlfriend was so scared she thought she would drop the camera.

I will understand if Huffington Post is forced to disavow me. That’s fine; I’ll take whatever bad-boy punishment Arianna determines — and make no whimper of complaint under the lash. (Though it would be great to get some consideration from George Soros, who has yet to send me that check we’re all supposedly earning in the liberal ‘sphere.) The fact is, I haven’t made any money by being on HuffPo and that’s not what I blog there for.

The woman called herself an employee of Gaylord’s, but I have yet to confirm that and have reason to doubt it. More as this develops…

ADDING: She actually yelled a verbal no-trespass order for the entire convention center and the Opry Mills mall at my back. Boo f***ing wa wa hoo, I can’t drive two hours to pay a retail markup.

ALSO ADDING: Did you know that shutting a door is “assault?” I didn’t, until the harpy shouted this fact too. Interesting how adaptable definitions become whenever wingnuts get involved.

Also also Adding: Gaylord (heh). Turns out the great Nashvegas institution is a corporate welfare recipient.

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Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy