From ECONOMIST.COM

The most important feature of this year's Republican convention is not its location, purpose or personalities. It is timing: for the first time in decades, the two parties convene in successive weeks. While most people celebrate the Labour Day holiday at home, the journalist class will arrive in St Paul barely having recovered from Denver: the heat, the death-march-length walk from the security perimeter to the Pepsi Centre, the lack of seats, the alcohol.

If it's September 11th, or it's election night and they've just un-called Florida for Gore, urgency makes your exhaustion irrelevant. You don't notice you're tired until you climb into bed, and then you're asleep in seven seconds. Conventions are exhausting precisely because they are extended infomercials, utterly devoid of urgency.

Last week's pressing questions: Can Barack Obama meet the huge expectations for his speech? Would he and Hillary Clinton reconcile? Can Joe Biden be an attack dog while folksily charming Reagan Democrats back into the fold? Could we have answered all these questions from New York and Washington? The answers were as predictable as the slogans in the hall: Yes we can. (Can I get into the Vanity Fair party? No, I can't.)

But in contrast with Denver, there were, and remain, real unknowns going into St Paul. What would John McCain seek in a running-mate? A jolt of attention and energy from an unorthodox choice? A safe choice? A former rival? Joe Lieberman, Tim Pawlenty and Mitt Romney all fell at some unseen hurdle. (The hurdles were more visible for Mr Lieberman; apparently, a host of Republican grandees urged Mr McCain at the last minute: no way, no how, no Joe.)

Sarah Palin slapped journalists awake on Friday morning. She was almost completely unknown until rumours began to fly early that day. Democratic delegates and the press trudged to the airport on Friday muttering "really pro-life", "super-conservative" and "weird" (the last referring to the pick, not the woman herself).

Mark Green, a New York politician turned liberal radio-pundit, was on my flight; he admitted knowing next to nothing about her. When I mentioned that she is 44-years old, he merely said, "Makes Obama look old."

All of this means Democrats can define her just as easily as Republicans can. Television commentators have not even settled on whether her name is pronounced Pale-in or Pal-in. The Obama campaign quickly sent journalists an e-mail saying, "Today, John McCain put the former mayor of a town of 9,000 with zero foreign-policy experience a heartbeat away from the presidency." Mr Obama and Mr Biden themselves put out a kinder personal statement, congratulating her.

I'll confess: I thought it was going to be Tim Pawlenty, for do-no-harm reasons. I then expected the Republicans next week to gird their loins, hoist shield and spear, and head frenzied into a conventional conservative attack, with Barack Obama's name being mentioned far more often than John McCain's in Denver. I expected a grimly determined, disciplined convention. To give up a journalist's dirty secret, I had begun writing parts of this entry before Ms Palin was announced, for deadline reasons.

Suddenly, I had to dump a lot of copy, exactly as Mr McCain wanted. He snatched attention from Mr Obama's triumphant speech. I now have no idea what to expect in St Paul. Can national-greatness conservatives, who love Mr McCain so much for his heroism in Vietnam and his steadfastness on Iraq, swallow a vice-president with less than two years' experience running a state with fewer people in it than Delaware? Somehow I doubt their nerves will be calmed because, as Fox News just reported, she has dealt with Russia on fishing issues.

It seems from early reactions that her staunch social conservatism will rally the religious base. Reporters were suckered into playing up largely personal Clinton-Obama tensions. They have spent less time on the deep divisions between Mr McCain and much of his base. Mr McCain's newfound orthodoxy on key issues may have helped him a bit, and Ms Palin may help much more. But will it play outside of St Paul?

Little matter for now. I head back into a cocoon, having just left one. It's going to be a fascinating week. To my surprise, I find myself looking forward to it.

(This column is part of a week-long diary about the Republican National Convention, published on Economist.com.)