Sarah Palin Reads a Eulogium of Her Own Composition, For Which She Receives a Silver Medal

But all that is really happening is that Sarah Palin is displaying and reproducing herself at a higher level of intensity. What is presented as true life turns out to be merely a more truly spectacular life.

The miserable God resists her skill and physic. I clap one paw upon the other and compose a threnody, raptures with a little local coloring. Something is snoring in the radiator, groaning under the incubus of Roger Ailes.

Sarah Palin is showing the Mayakovsky Tree how glass is made, how colors are extracted from pigments, how to measure and count, and how to communicate human thought.

Roger Ailes drops the nargileh tube from his hand and dozes on the divan beneath the window that opens onto Greenview Avenue. The entire consumable time of Roger Ailes eventually is treated as raw material for various new products put on the market as socially controlled uses of time.

I know nothing about gold mines and syndicates. Sarah Palin, hearing the parley without, growls behind the scene and orders Roger Ailes gruffly to the court -- through a dark, stivy arcade on both sides of which are dark, stivy cells used as stables.

This, while she draws from the nargileh the smoke I cannot relish. She blows the nargileh smoke in Roger Ailes's face, a rebuke to the extravagant tendencies of those who desire that eggs and cheese are sold in the stores with honey, fig-jam, and green olives: the reality of time has been replaced by the publicity of time.

Late in the evening, after she relates the length of Roger Ailes's sorrows, three mattresses (all she had) are laid on the straw mat near each other, with three pointed arches in the facade and a gable of pink tiles (but here are quoins, oriels, embrasures, segmental arches, and other luxuries of architecture). She is exclusively dominated by leisure time and vacations -- moments portrayed, like all spectacular commodities, at a distance and as desirable by definition. Moments explicitly presented as moments in Sarah Palin's real life, whose cyclical return we are supposed to look forward to.