“Sarah Palin, the smartest woman in America? With all due respect, I must refudiate.”

Refudiate away. Name her countless verbal transgressions, cite her taunting vacuum of legitimate political and legal knowledge, snort at her so-called feminist identity. I won’t deny you. I’m right there with you. Sarah Palin has never struck me as a genius. In fact, I’ve always gotten the impression she’s the type who’s unable to read without moving her lips.

But Sarah Palin has more money than you, more success, and (arguably) more clout, because she reads while moving her lips. Because she threads her speeches with “redneck” jokes. Because she writes notes on her palm and mistakes scenic views of distant lands for foreign policy. Sarah Palin knows her audience, but more importantly, Sarah Palin “is” her audience.

I was born in the kind of northeastern Pennsylvania town Palin’s campaign manager salivates over. Filled with confederate flag enthusiasts, devout Evangelicals and bumper stickers reading “I heart explosives”, you can’t help but feel the America that Europeans envision as they smugly inquire if you’ve ever been shot at in school. Though I can’t agree with general political atmosphere, I also can’t resent the residents for it. And Palin, with her folksy routine and her penchant for firearms, gives that atmosphere an enormous soap box along with a brazen middle to finger to anyone who doesn’t agree.

This causes me to wonder why some want to be led by those who appear to know more than us, and others by those who accidentally make up words. Many of us have heard Bush’s election success explained away by his “good ol’ boy” nature and beer-buddy charm. Sure, Bush might have been a blast to shot-gun a Bud Light with while watching mosquitos fry up the porch bug zapper, but do you really want that same man in office? America is not the bar from Cheers. Being aware that my leader is likely to make similar negligent, idiotic mistakes that I do provides little comfort. I’ve been known to lose my glasses while wearing them, temporarily forget my own phone number, and drive down rural country roads at night with my lights off. Can you imagine the presidential equivalent of driving at night with your lights off? Do it repeatedly for seven years and you’ll emerge with something like the war in Afghanistan. Electing those we feel are intellectually non-threatening is a mistake. A bigger mistake is to believe that a similar expressed interest — be it in hunting or camping or redneck jokes –is indicative of a similar lifestyle.

After leaving the Alaskan Governor’s Mansion in 2009 — a gig which earned her a respectable $125,000 a year — Palin reportedly banked $12 million dollars in endorsements, speaking engagements and book deals. Does that sound like a number of the folks? The people? The “real” Americans? Much of her small-town banter is a tool designed to detract attention from her new-found class status. She should try opening a speech with, “You know you’re a member of the American elite when… (you spend $150,000 of Republican party money on clothing).”

Palin may know less about politics than my dog and possess no greater an IQ than my desk chair, but she’s conning us all. She’s managed to maintain a world in which the name “Sarah Palin” is still relevant. Every time a political commentator laughs at her, every time a factory worker in northern Pennsylvania mistakes her for one of his own, every time a blogger with an extra hour and a slew of complaints sits down to tackle her most recent assault on intelligence, she wins. Better yet, she cashes in. That makes us the suckers.

Though Palin may be financially triumphant, musing over her idiocy is still exceedingly enjoyable. Shakespalin, a trending Twitter fad, is putting her one-woman Webster revolution to good use. (“English is a living language,” she tweeted after her notorious misuse. “Shakespeare liked to coin new words too. Got to celebrate it!”) Yes, Sarah. English is a living language, as is the culture of its greatest offenders. So welcome to the “celebrated” ranks of Dogberry, Mrs. Malaprop and George W. Bush. You’ve earned it. And that, my lady, cannot be refudiated.

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