The result of Slate’s “Write Like Sarah Palin” contest. Compilation, compliments of Slate.
Runner-up: “In the soft periwinkle glow of the proud Alaskan morning, I awoke from my sweet slumber and sauntered over to the window to gaze longingly at that mysterious, mystical land in the distance that is Russia.” — Jessica Bonness
Runner-up: “Todd’s phosphorescent smile, his manly physique like Alaska’s majestic mountains resplendent in white birch and gentian in the springtime, reassured me as I swiped the McCain campaign credit card through the reader at Macy’s—I winked at my very own Joe Sixpack, anticipating that on my watch, his new silk boxer shorts would soon be more endangered than the leatherback sea turtle.” — Lisa Patterson
Runner-up: “The campaign path once led me into the homey kitchen of June Asbel, where the aroma of toasted almonds and nutmeg mixed with a sense of American perseverance and optimism.” — Edward Dixon
Runner-up: “Willow at my side, we squeezed among the smiling folks to watch the race, the sitka spruce shaking off its winter dress of snow as the dogs whipped by; they go so fast, so impatient—that’s the way I am, I smiled to myself, impatient with politics.” — Benjamin S. Buckland
Runner-up: “I brushed aside the pussy willow and cockscomb and jettisoned myself blithely to the still-warm throat of the fecund moose, all the while listening the far-off mewgull calling me, the very sound of America.” — Amberly Timperio
Runner-up: “It was only then, after I had removed the saddle from the moose, that I noticed the sweet sound of the warblers singing while perched on the fence post reminding me that unlike New York, Wasilla would always have my heart which not only pumps red, but also white and blue.” — Brian Breighner
Runner-up: “The snow machine pummeled through the white-dusted plain like a jubilant beaver; snow spewing out from both sides, building its dam of snow like a beaver builds one of wood as Todd rode gallantly upon it.” — Brooke Adams
Runner-up: “Nothing inspired me more on the campaign trail than the metaphoric people who tended it—the mighty logger who cleared the brush, the farmer who planted rows of golden corn alongside it, the hunters in the misty distance who kept the wildlife at bay—all hardworking, loyal Americans who, woven together like the fabric of our flag, shone a light that illuminated the darkest shadows on that harrowing trail.” — Mary Daniel
Runner-up: “The minute I was on that stage in Florida with all those lights in my eyes and the smell of Alaska still on my fingertips and my family, too, all around out there, I was where I dreamed of all those years on the basketball court and in Alaskas’s God given beauty which we must cherish and use as God gave it us to use and in honor of the troops, also.” — Kaylyn Munro
Third place: “Reaching the peak of Igikpak, that majestic mount, feeling the smooth Alaskan wind rustle against my cheeks, watching over this vast yet tender land that epitomized so much of America’s resplendent pulchritude, and slowly squeezing the trigger on the wolf cub I’d been tracking through my crosshairs, I suddenly felt in my heart something I had always known to be true: the capital-gains tax must be eliminated.” — Aryeh Cohen-Wade
Second place: “Here’s a little news flash for your Department of Media: Superman’s parents chose life and he was adopted in small-town USA by real Americans who run our factories, harvest our meat-bearing animals, and wave Old Glory down at the courthouse and the churches, not in Washington D.C. by cynical power-brokers and liberal scientists.” — Steve Aydt
First place: “One night after a long day of campaigning, when the haters had made my spirits reach a nadir, I looked into Todd’s eyes, which were as blue as the stripes on Old Glory, and too representing truth and loyalty, and he looked back at me with a twinkle of determination which I hadn’t seen since I told him my goal of having another baby in my fifties and naming it Tron, then did I know for sure that I could carry on, like he, and we, have done together all of these years on this long, Iron Dog race of a marriage that is at once grueling and celestial, onerous and majestic.” — Ann Sensenbrenner
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