Nothing about sudden Sarah Palin-related
schadenfreude erupting on Facebook or Twitter surprises me. I know where it comes from, and I know the feelings it satisfies. What surprised me this time, though, was how little I sympathized with it. It felt tiring, if not unnecessary.

You probably know the tasty details by now: Joe McGinniss, author of the seminal
The Selling of the President, has been lurking under the watchful gaze of Vladimir Putin in Wasilla, Alaska, engaging in what Palin calls "
peeping tom" behavior by writing a book about her.
Parts of the book leaked yesterday, including this revelation from her "
LOTS OF DOGS" days as a sports anchor:
Sarah hooked up with [former NBA player Glen] Rice, a 6-foot-8 junior at the University of Michigan, while he was in town for the 1987 Thanksgiving weekend "Great Alaska Shootout" basketball tournament, according to the book.
McGinniss quotes a friend as saying Sarah had "hauled his [Rice's] ass down." While the pal coyly states: "I can't say I know they had sex," the friend is also quoted as saying: "I remember Sarah feeling pretty good that she'd been with a black basketball star," according to the source.
Rice confirms the hookup... "but he's quoted as saying he didn't think Sarah harbored any bad feelings over being with him because he was black. And he remembers only nice things about Sarah, recalling her as 'gorgeous' and saying she was a big crush of his at the time."
According to the book, Rice and Sarah continued to chat on the phone right up until she married Todd just nine months later.
It's interesting. It's titillating, and I admit that I'm not immune to feeling non-angry non-grudgefuck lustful interest in Palin's whole white-trash death-librarian vibe. (If anything, she seems experienced and doesn't come off like the type who insists on using condoms.)