Wow!  Who has ever heard of a politician “angling” for a spot on the national presidential ticket?  CBS blows the lid off of Sarah Palin’s outrageously outrageous ambition in their exposé, published to their “breaking news” feed:

Much of the country was taken by surprise when Sarah Palin became the Republican vice presidential candidate in August 2008, but newly-released e-mails make it clear that the little-known Alaska governor was angling for the slot months before Sen. John McCain asked her to join him on the GOP ticket.

Earlier that summer, Palin and her staff began pushing to find a larger audience for the governor, wedging her into national conversations and nudging the McCain campaign to notice her.

Palin and her staff talked excitedly on June 19 about plans to repeal Alaska’s fuel tax. Ivy Frye, a longtime Palin aide and friend, said she would send details to McCain staffers when they became available.

“They’re going to love it!” Frye wrote. “More vp talk is never a bad thing, whether you’re considering vp or not. I still say President Palin sounds better tho…”

Yes, well, Lord knows that little-known politicians never do anything to promote their national visibility.  But this is just the first of a series of gasp-producing revelations by CBS, among which are:

  • Palin was “dismayed” at a press inquiry as to whether she believed dinosaurs and people existed at the same time
  • Palin didn’t like unfavorable press coverage
  • Palin prayed for strength

If I got a stupid question like the one about dinosaurs, I’d complain about idiotic press coverage, too, and pray for strength for my jaw muscles to remain strong to keep my mouth shut.  In fact, this entire exercise feels just like the pressing public-concern question about dinosaurs.  Did CBS feel the need to publish non-news to excuse the expense of sending reporters to Juneau to get their peek at Palin’s inbox?

Years ago, I was a fan of the comic strip Bloom County, one of the best satirical looks at politics and culture in that art form.  One of the characters, Milo, often acted as a muckraking journalist, and in one strip he decided to play a record from a local heavy-metal band (“Deathtöngue”) backwards to get to the subliminal messages.  As “Go to church!” and “Tithe! Tithe!” emanated from the speakers, Milo said, “I don’t have a story.”

Too bad the national media doesn’t have the sense that a comic-book character had 25 years ago.