“It was a dark and stormy night …”

“It was a dark and stormy night — but not so dark that she couldn’t see across the roiling sea to the Land of the Rising Bear, emerging like a mirage in the distant mist, or so stormy that she couldn’t hear the anguished cry of a hundred million tortured souls waiting for the one they called the Rogue Huntress, their hope, their salvation.  Armed with God and Truth, she was the leader of the phalanx, the sharp tip of the sword, and she strode out across the barren land, soft-soled and sure-footed.

She smiled in her sleep …  it was good to be her.”

My apologies to the much-maligned Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton, who was once the most admired and popular writer in Victorian England — even rivaling the ubiquitous Mr. Charles Dickens.  I haven’t read Sarah Palin’s autobiography, but I understand there is a competition on for the best Sarah Palin (or rather, the best Sarah Palin’s ghostwriter) parody.  Which brings up the interesting question of whether Palin’s ghostwriter had to use Palin’s words, or whether the bloody mess (As the soles of my shoes hit the soft ground, I pushed past the tall cottonwood trees in a euphoric cadence, and meandered through willow branches that the moose munched on.”) belongs wholly to the ghostwriter.  Given how incoherent Palin sounded on the campaign trail, I suppose it’s actually the ghostwriter who should be made to read Sister Miriam Joseph’s The Trivium. But maybe it’s all intentional, and the ghostwriter is actually quite devious and is trumping everyone on the parody, a sly Tina Fey on paper …

“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in an obscure northern Colorado town that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the flimsy strings of Christmas lights that struggled against the darkness.  Through the paper shreds and abandoned hay of one of the obscurest quarters of this obscure Colorado town, a furry critter, evidently of the order Rodentia, genus Cavia, species Cavia porcellus, was wending her solitary way.”

More apologies to Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton …

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