Much like Chapter One, the logic employed in "Kitchen Table Politics" is so at war with itself I want to punch myself in the face for even using the word "logic" in association with this book. Watch how Fiscal Genius Palin armed with Common Sense Power solves funding a new police force for Wasilla:

Of course, we'd have to pay for it. There were two options on the table: increase property taxes or adopt a sales tax. I didn't like either, but raising property taxes meant more government control over what residents owned. A sales tax would be fairer and more optional.... So in the campaign I supported the 2 percent sales tax only if it correspondingly reduced property taxes. That got me off on the wrong foot with some local Republicans who heard the word "tax" and assumed I actually wanted one. (p. 65)

Did anyone else's head explode trying to reconcile how she reached her fiscal goal by increasing sales taxes while simultaneously reducing property taxes by the same amount? I'm no financial wizard, but I'm pretty sure that leaves you exactly where you started. Or worse should tourists decide to go to Disneyland that year because, oh I dunno, Alaska is fucking freezing. Fortunately, no one was reckless enough to almost bring Sarah Palin a heartbeat away from the presidency in the middle of an economic crisis. Oh, wait.

Sarah also constantly rails against "government control" - by way of trash collection - in the lives of Alaskans with their insatiable hunger for duct tape (p. 66) and do-it-yourselfishness:

We are extremely independent, no community organizers necessary. (p. 65)

Barack Obama joke. Zing! (Personal vendettas get settled a lot in this chapter, but more on that later.)

When she's not single-handedly crusading against evil government with a wink and a baby in tow, Sarah Palin spends time laying the foundation for her rise as the Teabag Messiah. We're regaled with the "politics as usual" crowd telling her she can't run for office because she has kids (pg. 71). Read: "I kept these babies because I'm pro-life. Oh, the persecution!" Her disdain for Karl Marx (p. 84) despite loving those movies with his brothers. And a charming anecdote where she literally says "government experience really doesn't count for much." (p. 84) That's all yours, Republicans.

Keeping with Chapter One's theme of white-washing scandals from the 2008 campaign, Sarah spins such controversies as banning books at the Wasilla library and Trooper-gate which pops up apropos of nothing considering she doesn't even reach the governor's office until Chapter 3. Of course, how do I know Sarah is really spinning these topics? Because in an anecdote where Todd learns Sarah didn't endorse his mother as a candidate for mayor, she reveals her proclivity for spin as a natural defense mechanism:

Instead of instant remorse, I jumped on defense. "That's not entirely true," I said and quickly tried to spin my way out of trouble. (p. 87)

Naturally, this is all perfectly acceptable to Sarah Palin along with embellishments about cutting her mayoral paycheck (p. 70) and reading line items in every single bill (p. 68) - yet this is the woman who brought us "death panels" - for she's simply following God's Plan for her life. If there's one thing this chapter can actually teach anyone who hasn't shot themselves in the brain to make it stop, it's the universal ability for evangelicals to reconcile their ambitions with God's Will. God just so happened to want Sarah Palin to become a political powerhouse with all the fame, attention and million dollar book deals she could duct tape to a baby. And how does she truly know this is what He wants? Why she prays everyday and looks for "signs" to show her "the right road" (p. 84). Sort of like that guy whose Invisible Sky Buddy told him invading Iraq would be easy, like pretending to clear brush in a cowboy hat. But, hey, that turned out alright, so let's get this chick some nuke codes!

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Elvis's Take: Like any decent Republican since Ronald Reagan made it cool to shit on the very institutions that keep us all from dying of Anarchy-Based Chaos-Killery, Chapter Two works hard to remind you—Mr. and Mrs. Joe Q. Fucking McNormal Whiteypants Fitzhonkytrousers—that Government is full of shitheads who hate your children and want you to pay taxes until your uterus falls out so that Poor People can buy iPods. Which is why Sarah Palin wants so desperately to work in Government. Because, you know, it sucks so hard.

Finally free of Chapter One’s tedious need to talk about how wonderful other people are (like the brilliant and fearless (also: Independent!) Todd, or her various Novelty-Named childrens), Chapter Two lets Sarah out of the box to discuss her true passion in life: Roads, water and sewer systems, and Tools For Private Sector Expansion™. Which, as far as I can tell, are roads and water and sewer systems, huzzah!

Curiously, Ms. Palin thinks she invented fiscal conservatism and is constantly shocked in such a Liberal Wasteland as Alaska to find like-minded politicos, when she isn’t shitting on the Establishment for being so Machiney and full of fuckheaded Good ‘Ol Boys. (Another constant distraction is how decent, hard-working and patriotic the Old Boys are when she needs them as coffee-shop props of how Decent, Hard-Working and Patriotic Alaskans are (also: Independent!), but how paternalistic and cock-blocking they are when she needs a convenient political enemy.)

Chapter Two finally lets Sarah throw some elbows in Good Old-Fashioned (also: Independent!) Republican Style, winkingly tossing off Christian Fist-Bumps to the Second Amendment (her girlfriends throw her a gun-themed—wait for it!—baby shower), State’s Rights (you know, like slavery; that was a good Right for those Southern States), and the deep Patriotism of pushing out a kid on the Fourth of July, which I suppose allows Bill Kristol to imagine both her vagina and Thomas Jefferson at the same time. Honestly, this book is soft-core Republican Wank Material.

Oh, and something else I didn’t know until Chapter Two? Piper’s middle name (well, one of them, anyway) is “Indi.” With an “I” at the end there. “Indi.” Which is, you know, short of “Independence.” Or, if you’re a Redneck who doesn’t get winking allusions to our White Founders and their love for low taxes and slavery, “the Indy 500 is pretty cool too”. Honestly, folks: I can’t take much more of this.

Tune in MONDAY for Why Me Not President? : Chapter Three on BobCesca.com