Carey Roberts
Sarah the ethical?
By Carey Roberts
A tour bus playing cat-and-mouse with the media...the imminent release of a feature-length movie...breathless speculation about her presidential aspirations. No doubt about it, Sarah-mania has become an enduring fixture on the current political scene.
But amidst all the hoopla, scant attention has been paid to Frank Bailey's recent blockbuster, Blind Allegiance to Sarah Palin.
Which is a pity, because Bailey's essay is not your typical kiss-and-tell riddled with unsourced allegations, sweeping innuendos, and armchair psychologizing. No, this book is written by a consummate insider — Sarah Palin's former campaign administrator, transition team member, and former head of the Alaska Office of Board and Commissions.
A staunch Bible-reading conservative, Frank Bailey has penned an unforgettable page-turner, chock-full of unvarnished directives from Sarah Palin, husband Todd, and other members of the governor's inner circle.
Bailey is not driven by political aspirations or a personal vendetta. Indeed, he goes out of his way to debunk the scurrilous rumor that Sarah was not the biological mother of Trig Palin, and sympathizes with her plight at the feckless hands of Tina Fey and Katie Couric.
The book carries the reader from the earliest days of the Palin for Governor campaign in November 2005...all the way to August 29, 2009 when Bailey jabbed his computer's Send key with his final empress-has-no-clothes notice.
It's no secret that Sarah Palin is a masterful word-crafter with a charismatic crowd presence. But Bailey paints a portrait of a serially dissatisfied celebrity-status seeker who relentlessly pursued a "two eyes for an eye" policy with her detractors, while devoting precious little time to the mundane task of governing the largest state in the Union.
As Bailey puts it, "many of us understood that she was not particularly well-versed in policy matters or in the minutiae of governing a state." So when the Anchorage Daily News editor rejected Sarah's breezy essay on energy policy, the fangs came out. "See?! Your piddly little 675-word limit forced me to lower my own standards. OK — back to the drawing board. Thanks for the challenge Larry," the Alaska governor shot back.
True, the book is replete with less-than-flattering accounts of Palin's roller-coaster management style, the endless Troopergate accusations, litigation threats, and her repeated admissions, "I hate this damn job." And the embarrassing radio interview with a Canadian prankster pretending to be French president Nicolas Sarkozy.
But the most distressing accounts are the documented instances of unethical and even unlawful behavior committed by Sarah Palin herself.
During the Palin for Governor campaign, Palin drafted laudatory letters to the editor, then had campaign workers mail the ghost-written letters under their own names, complete with instructions on how to avoid detection.
Once sworn into office, Palin billed for $17,000 in per diem expenses — the governor's mansion is located in distant Juneau, so Palin was able to claim "travel expenses" for the days she spent in her hometown of Wasilla. She faced criticism over taxpayer-funded trips like her junket to New York City to attend a "Women and Leadership Conference." And she later agreed to repay the Alaska treasury for 10 state-paid trips taken by her children.
Then the poll-rigging scheme.
Shortly after President Obama signed the Stimulus Bill into law, Governor Palin garnered headlines by announcing she would not accept federal stimulus energy funds. No surprise, the decision provoked a fury among the Alaska electorate. Finally, a local TV station ran an online poll asking, Do you agree with Governor Palin's decision to reject federal stimulus energy funds?
The Palin special ops team swung into action. With the help of special code-scrubbing software, her group was able to vote hundreds of times using fictitious names and fake email accounts. When one staffer proudly exclaimed, "We're up 75% to 25%," Palin responded, "Oh thank God!"
Two weeks ago Fox News' Chris Wallace inquired about the account. "Those are complete lies, Chris, and I say it unequivocably," Palin retorted. But apart from impugning the integrity of Frank Bailey, Palin did not offer a word of explanation about the incident.
It gets worse.
The McCain-Feingold Act restricts national political parties from donating funds to state-level contests. The idea is to prevent a tight local race from being decided by a last-minute contribution from an outside Sugar Daddy.
Blind Allegiance details how the Republican Governors Association worked hand-in-glove with Sarah Palin to shoot a spit-and-polish TV ad lauding the candidate's accomplishments. The slick promo ran just weeks before the general election — in direct violation of federal campaign laws.
Over and over, Palin has sworn to her supporters, "I welcome being held to a higher standard." Let's call it a work in progress.
© Carey Roberts
June 22, 2011
A tour bus playing cat-and-mouse with the media...the imminent release of a feature-length movie...breathless speculation about her presidential aspirations. No doubt about it, Sarah-mania has become an enduring fixture on the current political scene.
But amidst all the hoopla, scant attention has been paid to Frank Bailey's recent blockbuster, Blind Allegiance to Sarah Palin.
Which is a pity, because Bailey's essay is not your typical kiss-and-tell riddled with unsourced allegations, sweeping innuendos, and armchair psychologizing. No, this book is written by a consummate insider — Sarah Palin's former campaign administrator, transition team member, and former head of the Alaska Office of Board and Commissions.
A staunch Bible-reading conservative, Frank Bailey has penned an unforgettable page-turner, chock-full of unvarnished directives from Sarah Palin, husband Todd, and other members of the governor's inner circle.
Bailey is not driven by political aspirations or a personal vendetta. Indeed, he goes out of his way to debunk the scurrilous rumor that Sarah was not the biological mother of Trig Palin, and sympathizes with her plight at the feckless hands of Tina Fey and Katie Couric.
The book carries the reader from the earliest days of the Palin for Governor campaign in November 2005...all the way to August 29, 2009 when Bailey jabbed his computer's Send key with his final empress-has-no-clothes notice.
It's no secret that Sarah Palin is a masterful word-crafter with a charismatic crowd presence. But Bailey paints a portrait of a serially dissatisfied celebrity-status seeker who relentlessly pursued a "two eyes for an eye" policy with her detractors, while devoting precious little time to the mundane task of governing the largest state in the Union.
As Bailey puts it, "many of us understood that she was not particularly well-versed in policy matters or in the minutiae of governing a state." So when the Anchorage Daily News editor rejected Sarah's breezy essay on energy policy, the fangs came out. "See?! Your piddly little 675-word limit forced me to lower my own standards. OK — back to the drawing board. Thanks for the challenge Larry," the Alaska governor shot back.
True, the book is replete with less-than-flattering accounts of Palin's roller-coaster management style, the endless Troopergate accusations, litigation threats, and her repeated admissions, "I hate this damn job." And the embarrassing radio interview with a Canadian prankster pretending to be French president Nicolas Sarkozy.
But the most distressing accounts are the documented instances of unethical and even unlawful behavior committed by Sarah Palin herself.
During the Palin for Governor campaign, Palin drafted laudatory letters to the editor, then had campaign workers mail the ghost-written letters under their own names, complete with instructions on how to avoid detection.
Once sworn into office, Palin billed for $17,000 in per diem expenses — the governor's mansion is located in distant Juneau, so Palin was able to claim "travel expenses" for the days she spent in her hometown of Wasilla. She faced criticism over taxpayer-funded trips like her junket to New York City to attend a "Women and Leadership Conference." And she later agreed to repay the Alaska treasury for 10 state-paid trips taken by her children.
Then the poll-rigging scheme.
Shortly after President Obama signed the Stimulus Bill into law, Governor Palin garnered headlines by announcing she would not accept federal stimulus energy funds. No surprise, the decision provoked a fury among the Alaska electorate. Finally, a local TV station ran an online poll asking, Do you agree with Governor Palin's decision to reject federal stimulus energy funds?
The Palin special ops team swung into action. With the help of special code-scrubbing software, her group was able to vote hundreds of times using fictitious names and fake email accounts. When one staffer proudly exclaimed, "We're up 75% to 25%," Palin responded, "Oh thank God!"
Two weeks ago Fox News' Chris Wallace inquired about the account. "Those are complete lies, Chris, and I say it unequivocably," Palin retorted. But apart from impugning the integrity of Frank Bailey, Palin did not offer a word of explanation about the incident.
It gets worse.
The McCain-Feingold Act restricts national political parties from donating funds to state-level contests. The idea is to prevent a tight local race from being decided by a last-minute contribution from an outside Sugar Daddy.
Blind Allegiance details how the Republican Governors Association worked hand-in-glove with Sarah Palin to shoot a spit-and-polish TV ad lauding the candidate's accomplishments. The slick promo ran just weeks before the general election — in direct violation of federal campaign laws.
Over and over, Palin has sworn to her supporters, "I welcome being held to a higher standard." Let's call it a work in progress.
© Carey Roberts
The views expressed by RenewAmerica columnists are their own and do not necessarily reflect the position of RenewAmerica or its affiliates.
(See RenewAmerica's publishing standards.)
