The more I’ve been pondering upon the maverick innovations of the McCain-Palin ticket, the more I’ve come to appreciate the genuine opportunities they really could provide for our country. Liberals and their distant kin - elected Democrats - really should stop and reconsider how we plan to cast our votes.

If you dig beneath the soaring oratory and mediator logic of Obama and the tragedy-tempered muscle of Biden, what you find is pragmatism, deliberation, practicality and reasonableness. They aren’t Guccis or Nikes, they’re not even Birkenstocks; they’re plain old sensible shoes. Democrats have been churning out similar models for years.

Granted, Obama’s a better cheerleader than that actual pom-pom boy, George Dubya, ever was. Listening to Barack, you can begin to believe that - against all odds - the home team really can win, even surrounded by grizzlies and hyenas in a forbidding wilderness, while giant robotroids ready their lasers and Tasers and shoulder mounted particle smashers to moiderize us with.

Bo-o-o-oring.

Meanwhile, the fun is flowing like cheap champagne in a hooker’s navel at a Motel 6 next door to the Republican Convention. A very, very, very, very, very, very old hooker, with support hose and seams up the backs. Working for the Republican minimum wage. That’s right: zero. And it’s not really champagne. It’s carbonated jerkwater with 50% MORE of those NEW and IMPROVED carcinogens. The horns and whizzers come compliments of the house. Unless the whizzer is Larry Craig. Who likes to be called ‘Lars’ in the airport stalls and bars of Minneapolis.

Speaking of which, every attendee at the RNC passed through or near that hallowed airport men’s room, on the way in and back out again. Much deliberation goes into choosing the site of every convention and since they’re not going to convince Minneapolis to vote neoconservative anytime soon, they settled for the tourist attraction deluxe with the Wide Stance Lagoon.

You have to admit, there’s something endearing about a troupe with entertainment value like that.

And just when you think the hijinks and joybuzzers of the Grand Old Pirate party couldn’t possibly get any wackier, along comes Maverick McCain to set us straight about that. With none of that newfangled SNL elitist wisecracking stuff. No, he’s offering another go-around of the Texaco Star Theater.

Okay, you’re right, as silly as he is, alone, he’s no match for the Crawford Cowabungaboy in pure numbnuttery. But with the addition of Palin, he’s crossed the Bridge to Nowhere into a neotwilight zone that beckons us to the Twenty First Century… BC. Adding Sarah Palin to the ticket is the sort of star crossing that took place when Orville met Wilbur, or Bogart met Bacall. Actually, it’s even superior, as when Bailey met Barnum, Brigitte Nielsen met Flava Flav, Mr. Ed met Wilbur or when Dick Cheney came face-to-face with his conscience and walked on by, after kicking it.

Palin is perfectly qualified to be the Republican Vice-President. She can tell a lie poorly, she has secrets to keep and ain’t givin’ up nuthin’ to nobody, copper. She’s shilled for Big Oil. She even has her own monogrammed galvanized, folksy bucket with a willingness to stand tall while she fills it. She can fire any dedicated old boy public servant, replace them with a dedicated new boy Palin servant and call that reform. She can change her story more often than a teenager changes clothes in a day. She hasn’t any concept of policy about foreigners, but can spot one from a fishing boat miles away. And she thinks girls should be taught abstinence only until they’re wed to their rapists.

She pretty much passes all the neoconservative minimum aptitude tests, you see. And she has her own NRA Lodge, the Irrational Order of Moose, and conducts top secret government business where no one can find it on her home computer, where she emails under the nom de plume of Trixie O’Toole@yayhoo.nut. Now admit it, doesn’t she bring added flavor to the forum? With her down home platitudes and Bush country accent, she proudly describes herself as a hockey mom to voters attuned to pigskins and dragsters. Even though her only hockey progeny is heading to a place with a notable lack of zambonies and the only penalty boxes are the ones some are brought home in. (may he and all the others be spared such a fate).

Of all her wackadoodle doodliness, none stands out better as a whole new policy area to explore than her decision to permit the aerial hunting of wild carnivores, the kind that can stampede cattle and frighten flocks of sheep. Just when I’d thought the GOP had reached an insurpassable depth of WTF?, they’ve discovered new blood willing to spill more by aiming lower.

And that’s why I’m seriously tempted to vote for the Palin-McCain ticket. With only minor modifications, we could easily adopt her endangered species plan.

Consider what fun we could have jumping into biplanes and going gunning for more dangerous carnivores like the Coyote Executive Officers of major financial firms or the Condor Financial Officers of giant insurance conglomerates. Think of the name you could make for yourself, by cutting off the forelock of a legendary Feral Reserve Board chief and turning it in for a bounty.

Definitely, this is an idea whose time has come. Can you think of any other critter that’s ever proven capable of spooking a flock of 305 million sheep? I can’t. Can you recall any piratey rogue that’s stolen more booty from any village ever and done so in a way that convinces the villagers they should be grateful for the plunder?

John McCain thinks the solution to such predators is to fire the designated Fall Guy and form a study group. Elected Democrats say they’re holding out for enough wool to keep some of the villagers in blankets and mittens, but remain fully willing to surrender every doubloon in Fort Knox.

Now that’s clearly the type of mutton-headed thinking the predators were hoping to spook them into. Just like the government varmints used the bum’s rush to capitalize on fear and provoke it to panic to throw away thousands of lives for a war built on lies, these predators have terrorized an entire nation into the irrational belief that we’ve gotta cough up everything we possess as a record setting ransom. Not one fleece will remain by the time they’re through.

So please, won’t you join me in voting for Palin? I’m into adapting to survive in this modern day wilderness. We must immediately start the aerial hunting of predatory CEOs and CFOs and carnivorous FRB chiefs. The real question shouldn’t be whether it’s fair to kill them from the air. That’s namby-pamby oldthink.

With Palin as our role model the real questions should be: Can we kill each of them twice? And: How many forelocks do we get to cut off before turning them in for our bounty?

It’s a modest proposition, don’t you think? Half measures caused these predators to multiply to the point where they threaten us all. Let’s adopt the Palinist Principle: shoot first and often and when the questions begin, refuse to answer them.

The whole concept is positively liberating.