INDIANAPOLIS, Ind. -- You should have seen the madhouse that was Denver International Airport at 8 a.m. At least a quarter of the Democratic National Convention, fresh from a two-to-three hour wait to get into Invesco, tried to leave Denver at the same time. At. The same. Time. Now I'm back here at the country's worst airport -- they put most of the outlets next to the footpaths to board flights so no one can use them; you have to leave and re-enter security to get to your connection if you switch airlines; etc -- and Sarah Palin is John McCain's vice president. You might have heard something about this. I don't know anything about her, so it's a good thing that she's got an Awesome Internet Blog. I think she might have launched it to introduce herself to the country.

So they flew me out to Minnesota, and when I got off the plane I ran up to John McCain and hugged him (good photo op, right? I'm thinking ahead!)--but it turns out that it wasn't John McCain at all! It was just some guy on his staff. Such a faux pas, but I don't think it's entirely my fault. I've only met John once, and it was six months ago. He could have emailed me an updated picture or something.

One thing Palin's blog conspicuously neglects is her evil crusade against polar bears, which sensible people worldwide recognize as the Only Bear That Matters. (See, for instance, the armored bears in His Dark Materials.) She greeted the Interior Department's designation of the gentle-but-mighty creatures as a threatened species with the threat of legal action. Kassie Siegel of the Center for Biological Diversity was quoted as describing Palin's insistence that insufficient scientific evidence exists to justify the designation as being "either grossly misinformed or intentionally misleading." Anyone who would fuck with a group of bears that form armored columns of destruction in the name of righteousness clearly lacks the judgment to be commander-in-chief.

I got my links about Palin's war on the polar bear from panda-bear enthusiast Matthew Yglesias. Out of respect for his unconventional preference, the headline to this post is taken from Grace Slick's little-known 1988 ballad "Panda."