God How I Love Sully

But not in that way of course.

The most weaselly partisan contemporary commentator in public events has for the last couple of days been confronted with an intractable dilemma: write about something other than Gov Palin in which case nobody could possibly care, or write about Gov Palin, in which case he's writing about Gov Palin.

For those of you who've got lives, Sully's been retailing the story that Gov Palin's daughter Bristol is the real mother of Trig, the Down Syndrome baby. As it happens Bristol really is pregnant now, so we know:

1. It's just about impossible that she was pregnant then.
2. The standards of evidence in Sully-land (or the Left in general for that matter) are gutter-level.

He's obviously throwing whatever he can against the wall in the vain hope that something will stick.

But even without this, he was still stuck. Even if some people still read his blog, nobody actually takes his train of thought seriously, because he's never really writing on the level. The key to the spinmeister's craft is understanding the limits to it. You can frame a plausible story on a set of facts and if it sticks, a consensus might adopt it to be the frame of reference about those facts in the future. You can't frame a story whose premises are easily shown to be false. They make up their own mind about the underlying circumstances and form a (bad) frame of reference around you.