Sullivan promises to be 'normal' today

Of course, he's made a career of being abnormal, but . . .

This Dish will resume as normal tomorrow morning. We apologize for the lacuna. . . .

(Also we apologize for the "hiatus," but too many non-Harvard types know that word and "wankathon" is a bit too specific, so "lacuna" it is!)

And I suppose some will say we've gotten this book and the issues it raises out of perspective. But since the last campaign, we have raised many questions about Palin to which we have been given no incontestable answers (and still haven't) and the only real evidence we have are news stories, interviews and now, critically this book.

(Her uterus! She has a uterus! And she doesn't include a single sonogram of her uterus in the book! What is she trying to hide? Shriek! Shriek!)

In his hagiography of Palin, Matt Continetti accuses yours truly of earnestness about all this. I am grateful for his not accusing me of cynicism.

"Earnestness"? You complain about being accused of earnestness, you demented poofter? After you've spent more than 15 months pushing that lunatic Trig Truther nonsense?

You are a dope-smoking, contagion-spreading menace to society, Andrew Sullivan, and you ought to be immediately deported. I think even Tom Tancredo, Pat Buchanan and Peter Brimelow would agree that your deportation is a matter of national security far more important than sending ICE to hassle a few hundred illegal Mexican poultry-plant workers in North Carolina.

Let me tell you, Sully, I've got in-laws in Columbus, Ohio, who are hoping to go to Sarah's book event there Friday (6 p.m. at Borders), and if I have anything to do with it, they'll be waving a big sign for the cameras:

DEPORT ANDREW SULLIVAN!

You sick freak.

UPDATE: Welcome, Conservatives For Palin, where our British friend David Riddick warns you should "be prepared to blush." Ah, but Mr. Riddick of South Godstone doesn't realize that British idioms like "wank" and "poofter" don't quite have the same shock-value over here in the colonies. And there is no need to explain why the Fleet Street tabloid fellows enjoy writing headlines about Bristol for the benefit of their poetic Cockney readers, eh?

One of the grand pleasures of my career is the occasional opportunity to indulge my schoolboy love of the double-entendre, or to allude to some cultural obscurity like the scene in which the instructor chastises young Watson: "What's wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm? Why not start her off with a nice kiss?"

No ignorant reader could be offended, while the informed reader is wiping coffee-spew off his laptop. But the same cannot be said for the ribald work of that notorious Irish scoundrel, Patrick O'Leary Gallagher McCain, a distant kinsman who guest-blogged here on St. Patrick's Day. You have been warned . . .

UPDATE II: Unlike the Other McCain, the Atlantic Monthly is a journal devoted to serious issues. And, as Professor Douglas points out, Andrew Sullivan certainly has serious issues.

With breathless anticipation, the blogosphere now awaits the reaction of Ace of Spades. Brace yourself for a classic, my friends. BTW, we've now got a Memeorandum thread, so our blogging buddies should feel free to indulge some Rule 3/Rule 2 action.

UPDATE III: Dan Riehl sympathetically opposes Sully's deportation. As an aside, while awaiting the coffee-spew classic from Ace, I'll say that despite my complete disdain of Freudianism, one of the commenters references the Lovecraftian horror that Sully exhibits toward the Cthulu-like aspect of womanhood. Just sayin' . . .