*This is Bernard Magnusson III, writing from the marooned wreck of the S.S. Alberta Yarrow. The windows having long been awash in a viscous, black fluid and all traditional communications devices unresponsive, I am unsure as to the date and time. Our vessel is currently lodged between two rocky outcroppings somewhere in the South China Sea, the jagged crags that ensnare us providing at least some fresh air through the horrible ruptures they caused upon our landing. Though I cannot say for certain, I have reason to believe the entire retinue has survived the ordeal. Perhaps it is simply faith. Mrs. Palin remains defiant in the face of the beast. I find her courage, however lacking in focus, to be quite inspiring.

You're not gonna believe this, diary. No sooner did I have Bernie read me Bristol's latest post card than a big, old octopus thing jumped right out the water and started chewing on the boat! This is just so insensitive. God knows I have a speech to give in China. Couldn't He pick a more convenient time to give me a divine trial? October 2008 would have been nice.

*Over the course of what I can only assume was several days, I fashioned a small tunnel through the inner hull and managed to contact Graham. He has secured a food supply that he has been kind enough to share through a broken window. Apparently, only rice cakes and Mountain Dew have survived the wreck. I mustn't spend too much time away from Mrs. Palin. She has become quite irritated with our lack of progress and the high likelihood that she will miss the CLSA Conference.

Ya know, diary, this whole thing feels pretty familiar. It's like being on the campaign trail with John, only instead of a bunch of advisers gabbing away in my ear it's that stupid voice that nobody else can hear. Again. What does that even mean, "devour your souls in a never-ending torrent of rotten bone shards and pure oblivion"? I may just be a simple hockey mom from Wasilla, but I know that you've gotta speak plain, ol' American if you wanna reach people.

*Late entry: I have just witnessed the most remarkable act of courage and ferocity ever to come before my mortal eyes. Despite my pleas for reason, Mrs. Palin grew agitated and tore apart my carefully constructed barricade to the exposed deck of the ship. Once there, she screamed a vicious, feral scream and manned the harpoon gun she has come to love so dearly. Mrs. Palin fired the great, metal spear into the writhing horror that had laid siege to our ship. She walked across the fiber wire connected to the harpoon as if it were a tight rope. I cannot say exactly what I saw next, only that it appeared the beast swallowed Mrs. Palin in one of its many terrible maws, only to exclaim in great agony and eject Mrs. Palin with such force as to send her rocketing to the land in the distance before it collapsed into the sea, never to return. I know not my employer's fate, but I will make it my charge to find her.