Sarah Palin, My Gal (George Saunders at The New Yorker) I should warn you that if you find humor in the column below, you must obviously be an elitist snob.
You must be someone who sips Chablis and eats arugula after buying it at Whole Foods Market and driving home in your Prius. Or not. Stop Using My Song, Republicans: A Guide to Disgruntled Rockers. Rolling Stone Politics. At Fort McNair, an army base located along the Potomac River in the nation's capital, a chance reunion takes place one day between two former POWs.
It's the spring of 1974, and Navy commander John Sidney McCain III has returned home from the experience in Hanoi that, according to legend, transformed him from a callow and reckless youth into a serious man of patriotism and purpose. Walking along the grounds at Fort McNair, McCain runs into John Dramesi, an Air Force lieutenant colonel who was also imprisoned and tortured in Vietnam. McCain is studying at the National War College, a prestigious graduate program he had to pull strings with the Secretary of the Navy to get into. Dramesi is enrolled, on his own merit, at the Industrial College of the Armed Forces in the building next door. There's a distance between the two men that belies their shared experience in North Vietnam — call it an honor gap. Michele Bachmann's Holy War.