I can't look at Sarah Palin without seeing Edith Prickley, except Edith dressed with élan and Palin looks like she's trying to one-up everybody else at church, or remind the fill-in weather reporter who the real star is.
Mr. Riley takes a timeout from his usual essay form and offers up a bunch of semi-connected thoughts which end up blending well together, like a stew or something, so the only thing I don't really get is why he named the post after some kind of margarine.
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