When John McCain chose her as his running mate, she was virtually unknown. Now, twelve months later, Sarah Palin is sifting through more than 1070 invitations for paid appearances and speeches as well as a thick folder of offers for “network and pundit gigs, documentaries and business opportunities.”
This makes her one of the 21st century’s first publicity saints, a status I once explained to Marilyn Monroe.
“Why,” she had asked, “do they print things about me that aren’t true?”
“Because,” I told her, “your name and pictures of you sell newspapers and magazines and, if there isn’t any news, they’ll use rumors and gossip, any excuse to print them.”
In this era of disposable celebrities, many have been called to media sanctity, but only a few, most notably Barack Obama and the recently departed Michael Jackson, have been chosen. Palin’s uniqueness is in achieving it with no visible talent as a politician or entertainer beyond her twinkly shamelessness.
Yet it would be rash to minimize this superstar quality, which can override all other considerations (i.e., Marilyn’s meager achievement as an actress as well as the Palin wrecking of McCain’s campaign) and keep the public endlessly enthralled.
Even the former Alaska governor’s political obituary may be premature. Next month she will be making her first post-resignation speech at a Hong Kong conference of international global investment managers, following such previously enlightening lecturers–“notable luminaries who often address topics that go beyond traditional finance such as geopolitics”–as Bill Clinton, Al Gore and Alan Greenspan.
This will be followed by publication of her book next spring with what is sure to be a tumultuous media tour.