Sarah Palin's Alaska Recap: The River Mild

Seven weeks in, it appears Sarah Palin is serious about this TV show thing. Girl, enough. Last night, the Beartrap Contessa forded a mighty river, introduced us to an emaciated man named Bones, and mocked Michelle Obama. Can we take a moment to chortle hard at the name "The Learning Channel"? OK, great. Onto the horror show.

As usual, Sarah Palin's Alaska commences with an extraordinary opening credit sequence: Sarah shoots at a clay pigeon that turns out to be a story editor jumping to his death; Bristol loses Dancing with the Stars to a common Alaskan spruce; Todd chucks a pair of poisoned antlers at Kate Gosselin; a panther arranges its paw into a "middle finger" sign and points it at Willow. And we're ready to go.

After Sarah films a Fox News special from her home and poses behind a desk like the Chief from Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, she tells us she's loadin' up the RV for a two-day road trip with her family (plus cousin Happy). They'll be going white-water rafting in just a second. First, we watch as baby Trig dances in the RV to music and "raises the roof," as Sarah puts it. Horrified by his extemporaneous good time, she shuts it off, makes Trig cry, and says, "How about a nursery rhyme instead?" A nursery rhyme? Uh, yeah -- if by "nursery rhyme" you mean Jock Jams Vol. 2, fun-slayer.

Upon arriving at the rafting joint, the Palins are greeted by a man with a wind-conquering mullet.

"Put on yer Alaskan tuxedos!" he orders. That's a silly term meaning "wetsuit." He continues with his jokity-jokes, mentioning how if you fly out of the raft, you shouldn't worry since you'll end up near the boat anyway. Sarah's dad Chuck doesn't see things the same way.

"I have lost hunting buddies in this water," he murmurs to us, not kidding.

And with that, we're raftin'! Sarah hoots, "Don't use that man's mullet as a towel!" But before Sarah can say more condescending crap about our bemulleted leader, he takes control and shouts the best catchphrases of the season.

"I love my life!" he bellows as the rapids wash under him. He's got that born-again- Christian/former-American-Gladiator charm -- full of whimsy, wiles, and a history of steroid abuse. His name might be Dynamo. He is this show's only hope. Unfortunately, while it's a gas to watch Sarah let the river run , we realize she won't be flying overboard onto a sarcastic walrus anytime soon. So this trip worth it after all.

"That was pretty challenging! Physically it was exerting!" she says, groping the curves of her wetsuit like "Honey"-era Mariah. "But that's the way I like it." Ma$e will now give a sermon outlawing Sarah's horny innuendos, thanks.

The Palins retreat to the RV without saying goodbye to our new hero Dynamo. Lame. Sarah scours the RV cabinets looking for S'Mores ingredients and makes sure to say, "This is in honor of Michelle Obama, who said the other day we shouldn't have dessert." I'm sure that's what she said. Right. Michelle, dressed like a humorless despot version of Chef Boyardee, stuck a fist in the air and cawed for a sugarfree society. Nice reportage, Sarah. This is why you're only suited to govern things like a charity poker benefit in the Ozarks.

The rest of the episode is a boring blitz of activity in Anchorage: Piper "pans for gold" in a basin. Sarah and Piper ride four-wheelers on a dirt track. Willow exists. Everyone goes fossil-hunting. And strangest of all, the Palins meets up with a friend of the family named "Bones." Bones is so-named because once a year he locks himself up for the winter, eats minimally, and comes back looking like a bag of bones. We're supposed to be impressed. And I am! But only because it's the most glamorous eating disorder ever.

"Now we're pannin' for Tracey Gold!" Sarah hollers. No she doesn't.

Just before the episode ends and Bones is left in the ditch with Dynamo, Sarah enjoys a brief waitressing stint at a local diner (very Vanilla Ice-era Surreal Life) and meets up with a couple of Iditarod champs. We're introduced to their big doggies and, more importantly, puppies. Here's the thing: We needed those puppies. They tumble on each other like coins out of God's slot machine, and we coo for their Puppy Bowl awesomeness. In fact, why isn't this show just called Puppy Bowl on the Frontier: Co-Starring Dynamo? In the show's closing shot, we watch Sarah and Piper ride with some sled dogs, yell "Yip, yip" and wear fur hoods like the mall-brand czarinas they are.

"What a cool thing for a third-grader to get to see!" Sarah squawks. It's infuriating when she refers to herself in the third-person.