Your Dreams (and Nightmares) About Sarah Palin
She hands you a $20 bill. She marries you. She tells you to kill all the animals in the zoo. She's your barista.
Posted Friday, Sept. 12, 2008, at 10:53 AM
"I was at a coffee shop much like Starbucks, but it was called Snyder's (not a real place, as far as I know). I stepped up to the counter to get my coffee, and the barista was Sarah Palin, who used one finger to push the cup toward me, while silently giving me a frank stare. The cup had a red, felt-tip marker taped to the side. I understood all of this to mean that my boss was angry that I was late turning in an assignment, and that I was to write the assignment in red ink, which would indicate to my boss that Sarah Palin was responsible for my getting it done.
"Incidentally, even though the coffee shop was called Snyder's, Ms. Palin was wearing a green apron with the Starbucks logo, which I understood to be the Snyder's employees' way of protesting a takeover attempt by Starbucks."—Chris Stvartak
"I had stomach cancer, and my parents were preparing me to die, nurturing me. Sarah Palin was a doctor who delivered the bad news I would die. She was calm and stern. She put her hand on my stomach. She and my parents exchanged a look as if they knew something that I didn't."—Jake Breeden
"In my dream she is seated in the Oval Office busily using her crayons and a coloring book. I am standing in front of the desk where she sits, at attention, with my hands behind my back. In my dream, I am a man, looking like the stereotypical Secret Service agent (sans sunglasses and earpiece). I keep trying to get her attention for some urgent matter, but she is feverishly coloring. I want to grab her and slap her, and I strain to keep my composure. Her tongue is sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates on her masterpiece, and her hair is disheveled, although she is impeccably dressed. There are many other people milling around behind me in the room, and the atmosphere is tense, but no one approaches her, no one can figure out how to get her attention. I have this feeling of impending doom. I am frantic. Then I wake up."—Marta Nelson
"Last night I dreamt I was at a strip club, and Sarah Palin was dancing on stage in a G-string and being periodically groped by three professional baseball players dressed in uniform. I looked next to me, and Bill Richardson was sitting there smiling and giggling at me, gesturing towards the stage with a big cigar. I attribute this dream to watching a little bit of CNN, TheColbert Report, and Baseball Tonight before bed."—T.D. Botkin
"In my dream, I was with a group of people watching the election results on television. However, pundits weren't announcing the results. Both candidates and their VP picks were sitting on two couches in a room full of journalists/pundits. McCain and Palin were on one couch, and Obama was on his couch with his VP pick, but it wasn't Joe Biden, it was a woman in an emerald-green ball gown. In a way she resembled Doris Kearns Goodwin. What stood out to me is how insignificant McCain appeared. All attention, a spotlight even, was on Palin. It was like McCain was a sad old man on a park bench, and Palin was just soaking up all of the energy in the room. She seemed to be a magnet for all of the energy in the room—a bit like a Dementor from Harry Potter. Obama and his Doris Kearns Goodwin look-alike VP were also relatively insignificant, but not as much as McCain. Obama smiled graciously the entire time. At some point, Tim Russert's disembodied head appeared through a doorway in the room where I was, and I started to cry. Tim didn't say anything, he just floated there observing the group. One of the journalists/pundits in the room was overheard whispering, 'It's McCain!' It wasn't an official announcement, but he let it slip, and it was true—McCain won the election.
"But McCain just sat there not moving. Palin stood up and started queen-waving. Obama got up to shake her hand—graciously—and Doris Kearns Goodwin sat on her couch, as I was sitting on my dream-couch, crying."—Amy Howland
"I dreamed I was in the audience of the RNC. I looked down, and I was breastfeeding Trig Palin. After he finished, Piper Palin put a piece of gum in Trig's mouth, which he chewed casually as he turned his head to watch the end of the speech."—Jenny Jemison
David Plotz is the Editor of Slate. He's the author of The Genius Factory: The Curious History of the Nobel Prize Sperm Bank and Good Book. He appears on Slate's Political Gabfest.
Photograph of Sarah Palin by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.