Sarah Palin is a divisive figure. But no matter where you stand with the former Alaska governor's politics, this recent video of her speaking about Paul Revere's historic ride is sure to raise a few eyebrows.

In the video, which was taken at Boston's Old North Church, Palin gives a bizarre version of Revere's 1775 ride. Addressing an unknown person, Palin remarks:

He who warned the British that they weren't going to be taking away our arms by ringing those bells and, um, making sure as he's riding his horse through town to send those warning shots and bells that, uh, we were going to be secure and we were going to be free.

A couple of things are wrong with that interpretation, but one central main point seemed to be lost on Palin: Revere wasn't warning the British about anything. Indeed, he was warning the Americans about an impending British attack--as his celebrated historical catchphrase "The British are coming!" made abundantly clear.


But Palin can take some small consolation in knowing she's not alone among high-profile leaders affiliated with the tea-party wing of the conservative movement in misremembering a key development in colonial American history--even as the movement prides itself on serving as the guardian of the American Revolution's founding principle of liberty. Last month, Michele Bachmann--Palin's likeliest rival for the tea party vote should they both elect to run for president in 2012--told a crowd in New Hampshire that they came from the state where the first "shot heard round" helped set off the American Revolution in Lexington and Concord. Lexington and Concord, of course, are in the neighboring state of Massachusetts.

You can watch footage of Palin's remarks in the video above.
http://beta.news.yahoo.com/blogs/upshot/palin-flubs-explanation-paul-revere-ride-215549982.html

Palin is just tired of living in Alaska, if she was a real politician she would just use some of her campaign money to move to the "real" states before she makes an official announcement to run....technically its just her money and no laws are broken, Right?

She is similiar to me...(i know, risky statment lol) very opinionated but not politically ready...then again I am not a politician either.

A few winks in the camera and a couple you betchas and you would have half the republican base voteing for you.

aww, but she is so pretty,,,,,,


lol, talk about setting back achievements of women everywhere,,,lol

lol you guys know shes stupid, but keep posting about it...why is that?

Its like a car wreck you cant help but look.......I realy realy want her to be a republican front runner.
It will be so much fun to watch

i doubt she will be, shes like a female dan quale ... i think rick perry will be a front runner

I bet McCain is still shaking his head and thinking...

"What were we thinking!?"



The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

1807-1882

Written April 19, 1860; first published in 1863 as part of "Tales of a Wayside Inn"

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;=
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

What?

I'm not living in a real state???

Where am I then?

She's entertaining. Why not laugh about it?

Did this woman really graduate from high school? Where's the proof? I demand to see her diploma!

Oh boy, more Palin stalking.

It's become a scary obsession for some. Exactly why she has a security detail.

These days I generally just ignore Sarah Palin. It's too easy to see through her facade.

I did see that video of her talking about Paul Revere though. I didn't pay so much attention to Palin as I did the blonde lady standing behind her smirking at Palin's obviously inane story. That was the amusing part.

HAHAHA, She is Very likeable...youre so funny, a few winks and some you betchas, that is so PALIN! LOL

HAHA, It's a real state, it's just an isolated state. It's like hawaii? Except worse...whale is not a meal. no sunsets half the year, just weirdness...I hear it is beautiful though.

I like Perry a lot, I hope he decides to run.

Palin has turned herself into a one-woman clown show. I love a good clown show.



I hope so too.

I her a$$. I'd vote for her just to look at it for the next four years.

It's stalking when she obviously puts herself out there to keep her name in the media? I mean, she does what she does to get attention. It works.