Farce

It's official. A threshold has been reached.

For months I have been researching the story of Sarah Palin's alleged pregnancy last spring. At times, I've been serious, at other times facetious, at others sarcastic. But on some level, I always thought this was a serious story.

No more. Today, as I searched for a word to best describe where we are now, my husband suggested surreal. And that's a good word, no denying it.

We are now 48 hours after the news broke on People.com that Triggy Trippin' Track (or whatever the hell his name is) had been born. The birth day and the birth weight have each already changed once, but I think we've finally settled on Saturday, December 27th, and 7 lbs 8 oz. No matter that ... depending on how you count it... either two days or five days in, not one Alaskan newspaper has confirmed the story. Not one Wasilla/Palmer/Anchorage hospital has confirmed the child was actually born there. We have not seen a single photo, even a quick smile and wave from the proud new mom as she carries her little bundle o' joy out of the hospital. And most incredibly of all, the Governor's office has "refused to comment," saying that it is only a private family matter.

Read that again. Sarah Palin's office - five days after the putative birth - has not yet actually confirmed that the child has been born.

So.. how is it again... that we know this then? Let's review: It turns out that the alleged baby has an alleged great-aunt (who doesn't even live in Alaska, but hey, minor details) who got an alleged email from the alleged grandpa and then somehow (this is totally unclear) talked to People.com. (So how was it, just out of idle curiousity, that alleged great-aunty got Saturday and Sunday mixed up? Was the initial email from Chuck "Sarah's Water Broke" Heath wrong? Mistaken? Oh never mind. There's no point in even asking.) Great-aunty has actually admitted that she hasn't really TALKED to anyone in the family, but again... minor details.

But then, today, just when I thought surely it could not get any worse, it does. People is now reporting that Gov. Palin called them today... and left a message. Hmmm.

And on that message was the earth-shattering info that: Levi and Bristol are not really high school dropouts. Gov. Palin wanted everyone to know that. She wanted it to be abundantly crystal clear. She even says it right out. "They are certainly not high school drop outs." Hmmm.

Because later in the same article we are told that: Levi, also 18, told the AP in October that he had "left high school" to enroll in an apprenticeship program training him as an electrician. (I don't know what YOUR definition of high school dropout is, but that's pretty much mine.)

And her reason for imparting this pearl? To protect the young folks' reputations. Of course, considering that we are talking about a young woman who supposedly just had a baby (possibly her second) at age eighteen and a young man whose mother just got arrested for drug charges, the word "reputation" probably needs to be applied a bit loosely. If at all.

Oh, and what does she tell us about her darling newborn grandson? Umm, let me check the article again. Ummm. Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Squat. Nothing about how cute and chubby and perfect he is. Nothing about how he smells so sweet that his grandmother just can't put him down. Nothing about how cute he looks in his little sleepers or darling hats. But... Levi's going to be an electrician. Yeah, that's important.

She does reassure us that "Levi and Bristol are working their butts off to parent," an odd statement at best considering that the new (alleged) rugrat is barely five days old, and, pardon me for pointing this out, but many of us believe that Bristol has been parenting Trig for, oh, eight months now.

Which brings me to the conversation I had with my husband on the word that could best be used to describe this absolutely unbelievable morass. His suggestion was, as I said, surreal. And it surely is. But I felt somehow I could do better. Somewhere, there was the perfect word. And then, it came to me.

Farce.

For those of you who many not remember high school English, I'll give you a refresher on the definition of farce.

A light dramatic work in which highly improbable plot situations, exaggerated characters, and often slapstick elements are used for humorous effect.

Or perhaps you might like this one better.

A low style of comedy; a dramatic composition marked by low humor, generally written with little regard to regularity or method, and abounding with ludicrous incidents and expressions.

Yup. Farce.