The Hangover’s 2008 Person of the Year: Tina Fey

Tina Fey: 2008 Woman of the Year

Nobody had a better year than Tina Fey (including President-Elect Barack Obama, whose reward will be the opportunity to clean up the ever-deepening mess left by his predecessor).   Fey surpassed all known standards in just how successful an entertainer could be with brilliant comedic performances that crackled with social and poitical commentary.

Fey is the creative force behind NBC’s 30 Rock, a show both popular  and critically acclaimed.  Her character, Liz Lemon, is an achieving woman attempting to manage a nearly unmanageable “Saturday Night Live” conceit.  As played by Fey, Lemon is sharp and compassionate, as well as confused and insightful.  Lemon carries a realistic acceptance of her position on constantly shifting ground.  She is an icon for women juggling professional success and personal chaos.   Liz Lemon makes no apologies for who she is.  In a high school reunion episode, “The Revenge of the Wrath of the Nerd,” Lemon bids farewell to her former White Haven classmates with,  ”You know what? Suck it, you whittling IHOP monkeys.”

That would seem to be enough for one woman.  But then came Sarah Palin.   Fey’s impersonation of Palin on various episodes of Saturday Night Live marked some of the greatest comedy in the show’s storied history.  At times, Fey was indistinguishable from Palin.   Through a fusion of comic genius and comic existentialism, Fey effectively parodied a woman who was a parody in and of herself.  No easy task, and one worthy of recognition in the form of The Hangover’s Person of the Year.

If you don’t believe it, see for yourself:

The Hangover’s Christmas List

You’ve got to love a holiday named after a wine-swilling, long-haired, no-shoes-wearing carpenter.  And there are presents.  In honor of the holiday, The Hangover offers our own Christmas list.  And in the true spirit of the holiday, it is better to give than receive. 

For Terrel Owens:  A punch in the mouth. You’d think that Tony Romo or Jason Witten or somebody on that team would have had the balls to tell TO to shut up and then drop him with a right cross.  (Is Bum Phillips still alive?  Could he take care of this for Wade?)

For the State of Maine:  Less Taxes, Better Government.   We know, good luck with that one.

For Religous Extremists (be they Christian, Muslim, Pagans, Jews, Sun-Worshippers, Followers of Satan, or actual card carrying members of Red Sox Nation):  Less scripture, More action (from their respective deities).  Doesn’t fanatical worship sully the very God that it profess to follow?  Wouldn’t these various Gods be tired of people acting like complete fucking idiots in their names?  Shouldn’t  these Gods have had enough of this bullshit and smite their “extreme” followers from the planet?  Lightning bolts, now, goddamnit!

For The Boston Celtics:  Good Health.  The rest will take care of itself.

For Kathryn Tappen:  More sweaters of the shade (some sort of yellowish white) that she wore yesterday during the 12/20/08 Bruins-Hurricanes telecast.  Amazing.  A high-def Goddess if there ever was one.

For Barack Obama:  The cajones to swing back to the left after these mandatory first two years of centrism.

For Kennebunkport:  Less Development.  Do we have to turn every open space not owned by the Conservation Trust into either a neighborhood of McMansions or a psuedo-tony resort?

For the Red Sox Marketing Team:  A long, long, long vacation.  Two years ought to be enough.  We don’t need any hats with socks on them.  We could use a better ticket-buying site, however.  Or at least one that doesn’t have to blame its lack of functionality on “high transaction volume.”  What with the exciting new hats, you didn’t think people would want to buy tickets, too?

For the Red Sox:  Derek Lowe.  Give us a great pitcher who excels in big games, under pressure, and who wants to play here.  And we’ll take a refurbished Mike Lowell, too.  The hell with Mark Teixeira.  The only thing he’s led the league in is “Speculative news media stories on where Mark Texiera will land.”  Pitching wins and Lowe is a winning pitcher.

For News Editors of Television Weather Reports:  A grip.  Hangover Headquarters is in Maine.  It snows here.  It always has.  Every time a flake hits the atmosphere, we don’t need panicked, poker-up-the-ass anchor people screaming “storm warning,” “winter storm watch,” or “extreme weather event.”  If you want people to watch your insipid newscasts, try doing some actual reporting, or get better looking newspeople and have the women go topless and dress the men in Chippendale’s outfits.

For the Rolling Stones:  One last great album. I don’t mean pretty good, either.  Voodoo Lounge was compared to Exile, but we all know Exile, and Voodoo Lounge is no Exile.  Every Stones album since Steel Wheels has been proclaimed in one way or another, hearkening back to the heyday of the Stones.  Simply not true.  The world could use another Exile on Main Street or Sticky Fingers.  Get on it, boys.

For the Readers of The Hangover:  Less hangovers, of the alcohol-induced head ache and vomiting kind.

For The Hangover:  More readers.  Then I can start pimping out the ad space and earn enough money to quit one of my days jobs.   Then I could completely sell out and turn into one of those despicable, loathsome individuals that I despise.  Wouldn’t that be grist for some interesting writing?

The Best Rock and Roll Christmas Songs

The best rock and roll Christmas songs can be gifts in themselves.  After all, how many times can one listen to a pack of dogs barking Jingle Bells or even the great Burl Ives crooning Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?  And enough with the Fa-La-La-La-La’s.  Luckily, rock is a genre whose songs encompass all aspects of the holiday.  There’s the merriment, good cheer, hope, peace, goodwill towards fellow man, heartbreak, spirtiuality, and class warfare.   Before this holiday was co-opted by riot-inducing consumerism and Martha Stewart holiday perfection, Christmas was fun.  These songs will make it so again.

A Merry Jingle  by The Greedies (aka The Greedy Bastards)

A Merry Jingle is a 1978 punked-out mash up of Jingle Bells and We Wish You a Merry Christmas.  And it’s preformed by a legendary band:  Steve Jones and Paul Cook of the Sex Pistols, along with Phil Lynott, Brian Downy, and Scott Gorham of Thin Lizzy.  This is the musical equivalent of a snow-cooled six pack delivered by a Victoria Secret model clad in a Santa’s Helper mini-dress.  (While the Greedies’ version is veritably unavailable, the Backstreet Girls worthy cover of the song is available here on Amazon.)

Run Rudolph Run by Chuck Berry

This is likely the first rock ‘n roll Christmas song, released by Berry in 1958.  It’s old school Chuck Berry, a holiday Sweet Little Sixteen that has Rudolph “whizzing like a saber jet” and Chuck “reelin’ like a merry-go-round.”  A fitting tribute to a great reindeer.

The Grinch by Mojo Nixon and the Toadliquors

Mojo Nixon’s cover of “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” isn’t one for the kids.  He lets the low-down, present-swiping creature have it in a Bad Santa, no-holds-barred, swear-filled rampage.  What else would one expect from the great Mojo, protector of virtue and wholesome Christian values?

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus by John Mellancamp

This is straight-ahead holiday roots rocking where a real good time is being had by all.  You’ve got to love the accordion that gives the song a real jump.  Mellancamp’s cover songs never disappoint and just like Santa, he delivers here.

Christmas Wrapping  by the Waitresses

This is no-doubt the greatest of the new wave Christmas songs.  The 1981 song tells a story that is relevant today.  The over-worked, harried (sound familiar?) singer misses connection with a potential beau all year, only to have that Christmas magic work things out because of forgotten cranberry sauce.  A bouncy pace and excellent horns give this suburban rap a sweet bite.

Sleigh Ride by The Ventures

Instrumental greats The Ventures give their surf treatment to Sleigh Ride, and it is a beautiful thing.  No sappy lyrics. No over-emoting singer.   Just wave after wave of holiday surf.

Happy Christmas (War is Over) by John Lennon

John Lennon doesn’t go intellectual here.  There is nothing to decipher.  Gratitude, hope, and good will are up front and unabashed.  All Christmas music should have as much heart and as little pretension.    

Little Saint Nick by The Beach Boys

Nothing says Christmas like the sun-drenched harmonies of the Beach Boys.  They give Santa’s sleigh the Little Duece Coupe/Shut Down car song treatment.  Christmas soars with the high notes of the vocals.

2000 Miles by The Pretenders

Chrissie Hynde’s voice has been described as snarky, sultry, smoky, and sexy.  But on this heartfelt song of longing, it’s simply pretty.  Heartache and hope never sounded so beautiful.

All I Want For Christmas Is A Rock n Roll Guitar by The Stompers

Boston club-goers will recognize this tilt by The Stompers.  Sal Baglio and the band plead for the one present that will make life complete.  And they do it in the all-out style that the band was known for.  They just don’t want the guitar, they need it. 

Blue Christmas by Elvis Presley

The King puts his stamp on Christmas with several songs, but none have the depth of this one.  In an unplugged segment of his ’68 Comeback Special, Elvis lets his voice carry the song.   Elvis could do it all–and here he shows how it’s done: 

Father Christmas by The Kinks

Leave it to Ray Davies to bring a dose of economic reality to Christmas with typical Kinks crunch.  Davies points out that not everyone’s holiday is egg nog, over-sized Teddy Bears, and carols by the fire.  His character, a department store Santa, is accosted by a gang of kids.  As usual, Davies’ lyrics are humorous and poignant as the kids tell him: 

Father Christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

Have yourself a merry merry christmas
Have yourself a good time
But remember the kids who got nothin
While youre drinkin down your wine

It’s a Christmas message for us all.

Hollywood Endings: The Shield and The Sopranos

(Editor’s note:  The Hangover swung and missed on much of our interpretation of the Soprano’s ending.  Please see:  http://masterofsopranos.wordpress.com/the-sopranos-definitive-explanation-of-the-end/)

The Shield’s seven year run of grit ended last night with an episode true to its stomach-wrenching nature.  One could not help but draw contrast to the ending of the Sopranos, HBO’s signature crime drama.  The relative merit of each can be seen through the music used to define the episodes.  For The Shield, it was Vic Mackey’s opening drive through his city to X’s Los Angeles, a seminal punk cut that characterizes the chaotic undercurrent that runs like a riptide through LA.  In contrast, the Sopranos ended with the Soprano family having dinner in a restaurant known for onion rings while the trite, Top 40 strains of Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ dominated the scene.  These musical choices alone indicate the merits of the respective finales.

The Sopranos finished in a sea of symbolism.  As Tony, Carmella, and AJ order lousy food, Meadow tries to park her car (signifying how the family will never fit in to mainstream America?).  A man walks in the restaurant, scopes out Tony and heads for the bathroom (Mob hit man?  Innocent passerby?  Or a symbol of the potential threat that will always hang over Tony’s head?).  The camera pans to a young couple obviously in love enjoying their dinner (Symbolizing a young Tony and Carmella, when they believed–cue Journey–their futures were bright?)  The screen turns black as Meadow runs in the restaurant, leaving millions of Americans thinking that HBO has just crashed.  No, the disaster wasn’t in their set.  It was in the guts of the Sopranos producers and writers, who took the “arty” way out–failing to make the definitive statement that writers most often consider critical to story-telling.   Then again, maybe not.  Perhaps The Sopranos team wanted to leave us believing that the Sopranos would never know what lay ahead for them, and that was the curse given Tony’s chosen occupation.  But these are just The Hangover’s interpretations.  Others have seen the episode quite differently.  On the excellent Television Without Pity site, there are 226 pages of interpretation.  That indicates a problem; after six seasons, the producers should have been able to provide a meaningful resolution.  To fail to do so is to walk away from one’s responsibility as an artist.

The Shield, however, concluded with an earned, tough clarity.   Desperation built.  Frustrations grew.  Betrayal became a way of life.  Death was a choice.   No major character escaped unscathed.  Shane, Ronnie, Dutch, Acevada, Claudette, Julien, Corinne, Steve, and Tina all leave wounded.   The filmmaking was brilliant, as letting the final minutes play out on Vic Mackey’s face showed the commitment, faith, and cajones that was clearly lacking in the Sopranos finale.  The price that Mackey pays for trying to walk the wire between justice and morality is clear:  There’s nothing left inside.   Powerful storytelling trumps pretentious symbolism:  Writers and viewers can agree on that.

Warren Zevon’s Not So Quiet Normal Life

I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead, the 2007 Warren Zevon biography penned by Zevon’s ex-wife, Crystal, is a remarkable book.   A reader will experience moments of awe, disbelief, elation, and horror. When Zevon was diagnosed with cancer in 2002, he asked Crystal to tell the whole truth in writing his story, “even the awful, ugly parts.”  She did not flinch.  The book presents a view of Zevon that could not possibly be more honest.    Sharing traits with many of his characters, Zevon is at times genius, drunk, twisted, and hilarious.  To paraphrase one of his own songs, his shit was fucked up.

Crystal Zevon interviewed eighty-seven people for the book.  Their accounts are presented in the first person, as are her own remembrances.  Excerpts from Warren’s journal are also shared.   The reader sees hardships and challenges on every page–some external, many emanating from within.  But as Zevon careened through drug, alcohol, and sex addiction, one thing remained constant:  He never compromised his musical integrity.  And that cost him.  He did not achieve the financial and popular success he felt he deserved.  In a 1998 letter to Hunter S. Thompson, Zevon described his career as “about as promising as a Civil War leg wound.”  For Zevon fans, that was all right with us.  To hell with those who didn’t get it.

Bonny Raitt knew:  “There’s no way the mainstream could be hip enough to appreciate Warren Zevon.  He was our everything, from Lord Buckley to Charles Bukowski to Henry Miller.”  When Jackson Browne introduced Zevon to an audience as “the Ernest Hemingway of the twelve-string guitar,” Zevon later corrected him claiming, no, he was “the Charles Bronson of the twelve-string guitar.”  They were both right.  As Browne said, “Warren didn’t have literary pretenstions.  He had literary muscle.” 

The Hangover got on board with Zevon’s ’78 Excitable Boy album.  Although he never became a chartbuster, each previous and subsequent album delivered full tilt Zevon:  originality, a writer’s eye, and an outlaw’s attitude.   All one has to do is turn on a radio today and listen for an hour to realize that Zevon was a unique talent.  It is bitter-sweetly ironic that The Wind, recorded after Zevon’s cancer diagnosis (with the clock ticking loudly during the sessions), led to recognition in the form of two Grammies.   The Excitable Boy wasn’t around to see it happen.

I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead will hit Zevon fans hard.  He paid a high price to create his music–and live his life.    As honest and uncompromising as his songs were, so is his biography.  It is a fitting tribute.  No doubt, the Zevon’s will continue to deserve more credit that they will receive.  

{All quotes taken from I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead: The Dirty Life and Times of Warren Zevon.}

Songs Every Garage Band Should Know

The garage band is an American institution.   It is impossible to know just how many bands started out as a group of friends practicing in their garages, playing songs they liked–and could figure out. The music was usually basic rock and roll:  three or four chords, a strong back beat, guitar, bass, drums, and sometimes an organ or keys.  The garage sound spans from Chuck Berry and Elvis to the Stones, Kinks, and Beatles, through Warren Zevon and the Ramones to the Strokes and White Stripes. Perhaps the Granddaddy of all garage bands was Buddy Holly and the Crickets. Not only did they practice in the Holly’s garage, they recorded some of their first demos there. The rest is history.

Whether a bunch of stoned teenagers or middle-aged middle managers trying to blow off steam, a garage band should be able to rock out the neighborhood 4th of July cook out, your Aunt Sophie’s fifth (and surely last) divorce party, and any bar in town that has even the slightest whiff of stale beer. The songs don’t require exquisite musicianship but they do have to sound like fun.  The following set list would make any band practicing next to a Ford Taurus garage rock Kings:

Louie, Louie (by  the Kingsmen)

Three chords, sometimes indecipherable lyrics, and a never-fail connection with drunkeness thanks to Animal House make this a garage icon.  This song–that you can dance and drink to–will be a hit anyway, anyhow, anywhere.

Wild Thing (by The Troggs)

Another example of roots rock simplicity at its finest.  Guitar crunch, dramatic pauses, and potential crowd response put this on the list. 

Johnny B. Goode (by Chuck Berry)

Altough unable to be quantified, this song must have been played in more garages and barrooms than any other song in the history of rock.  It defines Chuck Berry’s rhythm and blues style.  Guitar players cut their teeth as beginners and then show their chops by playing lead to this one.

Heartbreak Hotel (by Elvis Presley)

No garage band set list would be complete without a nod to the King.   This will get everyone fired up, especially if the singer can do that hip thing and sneer at the same time.

Satisfaction (by the Rolling Stones)

It’s got the quintessential garage feel, a classic guitar lick, and a frustrated. pissed off narrator.  It doesn’t get more “garage” than that.

Pretty Woman (by Roy Orbison)

This song can work in a variety ways.  If the singer has some pipes, it can be done as a homage to the great Roy Orbison.  More likely, it can be dirtied up and done as a straight rock and roller, ala Van Halen (but please without those DLR squeals).  Either way, it will pack some punch.  Just make sure the singer isn’t checking out your date while he’s singing it.   

Wipeout (by the Surfaris)

Every band should be able to play an instrumental.  Surf music will get the crowd doing “the swim” and partying like its 1969–the time of free love. 

Allison (by Elvis Costello)

Even a garage band should know a slow song.  This one is from ’78.  When it’s dark and late, nothing sets the mood better than lost love and fading dreams. 

I Walk the Line (by Johnny Cash)

This will hit the mark with nose-ringed punks, as well as country fans who have a lawn mower replica of Dale Jr.’s #88 Impala in their own garage.  It will prove to some that you don’t need a Stetson to play or enjoy country music.

I Wanna Be Sedated (by the Ramones)

This will hit the mark with cowboy-hatted hillbillies, as well as alternative fans who have a Toyota Prius in their garage and a motorcycle leather in their closet.  It will prove to some that you don’t need to a habit to play or enjoy punk rock.

Get Back (by the Beatles)

The early Beatles were a prototypical garage and bar band, pumping out the Chuck Berry and Carl Perkins covers that tore the roof off the Cavern Club in Berlin.  They progressed from there, but on their last album returned to those pure, rock and roll roots.  This is also great to play if your ex-wife is in the room or the rhythm guitar player’s chick is trying to break up the band. 

And The Hangover’s Ultimate Garage Rock Song:  Werewolves of London (by Warren Zevon)

The Maverick, John McCain, Not Even America’s Best

“John McCain is a maverick.”  Americans have heard that thousands–if not millions–of times over the last few months. We’ll hear it some more, too, as election day approaches.   While McCain contends this “maverick” status will make him a good president, The Hangover remains dubious.  The truth is, McCain isn’t even the best Maverick the United States has to offer.  Therefore, as a public service, The Hangover offers its list of:

Best American Mavericks:

America's best maverick: Bret Maverick

1)  Bret Maverick as played by James Garner

The television show “Maverick” aired from 1957-1962, with Garner playing Bret Maverick from ’57 to ’60.  The show was a comedy-action-western featuring three Maverick brothers and one nephew, all card-playing sharps who dressed well, cracked jokes, and then did good–often reluctantly.  The Museum of Broadcast Communications termed the show “a subversive Western with a dark sense of humor.”  The show can still occasionally be seen on the Encore Western channel. 

Only one or two of the Maverick clan were  featured in an episode, with Garner’s Bret being the lead during the shows creative and ratings peaks.  Garner’s charisma, timing, and acting were impeccable.  Bret Maverick’s ability to carry the day against even more underhanded and over-sized foes made him an icon.  While the typical western character wore jeans and flannel, Bret Maverick operated in his fine gambler’s suit.  He would outsmart his adversaries more often than he’d outslug them, but he was adept at both.  He won chips and broke hearts, including his own.  He always intended to act in his own self interest, but rarely did.  Bret Maverick is the mark against which all Mavericks should be measured. 

2) Mark Cuban

Cuban made his fortume as a technology entrepreneur during the Internet boom of the ’80′s and ’90′s by being a maverick in his field.  He’s currently rated the 161st richest American, not bad for a kid from a working class family.  But Cuban is not only a business maverick, he owns Mavericks–the Dallas Mavericks of the NBA.  He also writes a maverick blog:  http://blogmaverick.com/.  While the Dallas Mavericks have yet to win the NBA title under Cuban’s stewardship, the team is always in the playoffs and made the finals in 2006.  As a real maverick, Cuban is often fined by the league for speaking out, speaking truth, and sharing his opinion, whether it is in his best interest or not.  If only our politicians talked as honestly and straight as Cuban.

3)  Raul Malo

Malo is the former lead singer of the Mavericks, a smooth Latin-tinged roots-country band that broke out in 2000.   While the music itself was excellent, the band’s focal point was Malo’s lush, deep vocals.  Rolling Stone described Malo’s voice “on par with the best of ‘em:  Sinatra, George Jones, and Orbison.”  That explains why he continues to grow as an artist in a fine solo career.  This singer-Maverick is among the greatest of all time.

4)  The Ford Maverick     

The Ford Maverick: A better maverick than John McCain

The Ford Maverick was a compact car built by Ford from 1969-1977.   With a price tag of $1995, it’s first year sales eclipsed records set by the Mustang in 1965.   Despite being labeled a compact, it’s sporty flourishes gave the car personality and a certain level of muscular elan.  It also proved to be dependable and fuel-efficient transportation during the fuel crisis of the 1970′s.  The Maverick rarely let down its owners and, in fact, The Hangover learned to drive behind the wheel of a ’76 four-door model.  This car was one great maverick. 

 

5)  Bart Maverick as played by Jack Kelly

Kelly’s role as Bart Maverick spanned the length of the entire Maverick series.  And while Kelly was not quite the force that Garner was, he was a model of comic, wry consistency.  The characters of Bret and Bart were not so different, both winners at cards, love, and the high life.  They were distinguished mainly by Bart’s gray hat (Bret wore black).   Episodes where both brothers co-starred are classics. 

6) Dirk Nowitzki

Nowitzki is the face and star of the NBA’s and Mark Cuban’s Dallas Mavericks,  His lifetime stats reveal greatness.  As the leader of the Mavericks, over the last ten years he’s averaged 36.5 minutes per game, 22.4 points, 8.6 rebounds, and 2.7 assists.  In this years playoffs, he raised his game when it mattered the most with 26.8 points, 12.0 rebounds, and 4.0 assists per game.  A real maverick comes through when it counts. Unfortunately, Nowitzki is a citizen of Germany and must be disqualified.

Other Notable Mavericks:

17)  Roger Moore as Beau Maverick.  Beau Maverick was a cousin of Bart and Bret.  Moore, despite being his usual suave self in the role, is also English and disqualified. 

38) Sarah Palin.  The Hangover is unsure how being a hockey Mom, potential book banner, religious zealot, and mainstream Republican make one a maverick.  But seeing as she hit Alaskan energy companies with a windfall profits tax–which actually put money in the pockets of regular Alaskans–she deserves recognition. 

53)  Robert Colbert as Brent Maverick.   Colbert starred in some episodes of the 1961 season, a poor man’s Bret or Bart.  Hence his position down the list.

72) John McCain.  Proclaiming (or having your running mate do so) oneself a maverick does not make it so.  What has McCain done to earn this status?  Co-write legislation that makes sense with Ted Kennedy?  Kennedy’s written legalisation with countless other Senators.  McCain did institute campaign finance reform; unfortunately it was a package that was more “gums” than “teeth.”  Special interest money keeps rolling into candidates’ pockets including McCain’s and Obama’s.  If McCain wanted to be a real Maverick:  he wouldn’t take that special interest money; seven of his tops aides wouldn’t be former lobbyists; and he wouldn’t have voted with George W. Bush 95% of the time.   

99)  Bret Maverick as played by Mel Gibson. Gibson lacked the charisma, self-deprecation, and nuance that made James Garner such as great Maverick. Not even a cameo by Garner could save this debacle. Australian mavericks must have been disheartened by Gibson’s performance.

278) Lt. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell as played by Tom Cruise.  This highly clichéd character in the highly clichéd Hollywood blockbuster Top Gun produced a highly clichéd and therefore low-rated maverick.

Obama Just Says No to Lindsay Lohan

The Chicago Sun-Times is reporting that the Obama campaign has turned down Lindsay Lohan’s offer to host events for young voters and go on the stump for Barack.  It appears that the actress’s past troubles with alcohol and drugs have scared off the campaign.  Sure, she’s been arrested for drunken driving and cocaine possession, and she’s done a stint in rehab.  But all that makes her is an icon for those in the 18-25 year old demographic–and a perfect ambassador for Obama. 

In case you haven’t noticed, people aged 18-25 like to do drugs and drink alcohol.  That’s why they often go to college.  They also can vote, and in an election expected to be close, their votes could make the difference.   Survey results from the Department of Health and Human services found that nationally in a particular month, approximately 40.1% of those in the 18-25 demographic used illicit drugs (6.5 million people).  Approximately 50% of those 18-20 used alcohol, while 68% of those 21-25 also drank (19 million people).  Even if you consider that a good portion of those using drugs probably did so with a cocktail in their hand, that’s still a considerable number of potential votes.  And Lindsay Lohan is just the starlet who can reel them in.

Lindsay Lohan: Key to the "Party Vote"

Taking an overview, it’s likely that some 18-to-25ers are probably intending to cast their ballots anyway.   But there are others, ones who are too stoned to watch the news but just cognizant enough to ferret out Entertainment Tonight or TMZ.  Here’s the scenario:  Inbetween lines, tokes, or mojitos, the youthful party animal catches the stunning Lohan in a little black dress; she’s saying how much the country and especially their generation needs Obama.  A thought rises as the endorphins fire:  ”Hey, if Lindsay’s for this guy, then he’s got to be cool and I might as well vote for the dude.  Worse comes to worse, I can hit the booth and pick up a 12 pack of Bud Light Lime and an eight ball on the way home.”  This could play out in every state in the nation, and those voters could tip the scales in favor of Obama.   If you don’t think ”the party vote” would have carried Florida for Al Gore in 2000, then you’ve never seen Miami Vice.  

Mr. Obama, ignore your advisors and get Lindsay Lohan on the phone.  Put her to work for you.  She’s the key to votes that could win you this election, even if she can’t walk a straight line at 3:00 in the morning.

Sarah Palin’s Banned Books

The media frenzy surrounding reports of Sarah Palin’s attempt to ban books from the Wasilla Public Library is somewhat off the mark.  On becoming mayor of the thriving Alaskan metropolis in 1996, she did not attempt to ban specific books from the town library.  She simply inquired with the librarian about how she would react if Palin did attempt to ban books.  It was a rhetorical question, Palin claimed, according to the Mat Su Valley Frontiersman.  This puts the Hangover at ease.  Luckily for those left wing advocates of free speech, Library Director Mary Ellen Emmons actually had a backbone (not to mention respect for the Constitution) and symbolically told Palin to take a long walk off a short iceberg. 

The good news is that if the McCain-Palin ticket is elected, the nation will enjoy some consistency in the Vice Presidential positition.  If one of Palin’s first acts as mayor is to determine what level of censorship she could wield in her position, she’ll feel very comfortable behind Dick Cheney’s desk.  He doesn’t believe we know what’s good for us, either.   It’s certainly reassuring to have such honest, god-fearing leaders to do our thinking for us.  The Hangover would hate to waste time reading books and following government, especially with the season premiere of Desperate Housewives only weeks away.

This being something of a literary site, The Hangover had to wonder just what books Palin was hoping to strike from the library.   Consdier me cynical, but there had to be some specific targets.  To determine what works these might be, we scanned the list of the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990-2000 and tried to discern which qualified for her lets-get-rid-of-them platform.

The Hangover immediately eliminated the following from Palin’s agenda:

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Little Black Sambo, and Native Son:  How many African-Americans can there be in Wasilla?

Sex (by Madonna), Sex Education, Girls and Sex, Women on Top, Boys and Sex, What’s Happening to my Body, Asking About Sex and Growing Up:  With all the kids they’re popping out up there in Wasilla, I don’t think sex was a worrisome issue for Palin.    Apparently, they’re good at it.

Brave New World, Of MIce and Men, The Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies:  These books are only read by eastern and urban elites who vote Democrat.  No one in Alaska would be caught dead with any of them.

Slaughterhouse Five, The Dead Zone, Tiger Eyes, To Kill a Mockingbird, Cujo, Scary Stories, The Goats, The Pigman:  With the hunting and outdoor sporting culture in Alaska, anything involving possible game and/or killing of possible game has to be considered acceptable reading.

All poetry could be considered safe:  No one reads it anyway, outside of the beret-wearing fops in New York and San Francisco.

To be honest, The Hangover had never heard of many of the books on the list.  And if we’ve never heard of them, it’s probably safe to assume that a busy hockey mom and Mayor like Palin never did either.  That takes care of another eighty.

Palin’s Possible Targets:

By process of elimination, The Hangover concludes that Palin had two particular volumes which she wished to eradicate from the Wasilla Public Library’s shelves:

1. Private Parts by Howard Stern.  Howard is one of those northeastern liberal intellectuals.  And he has a potty mouth.  And he is one of America’s strongest advocates of free speech.  You can’t have that kind of thinking threatening the way of life in Alaska.
2. The Harry Potter Series by JK Rowling.  If Wasilla’s children became engrossed in reading about the fantasy world of wizards, puny English kids, Cheney Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Harry, they wouldn’t have time to play hockey, babysit their many siblings, and have underage, unprotected sex.  

The country owes a debt of gratitude to Library Director Ellen Emmons.  Censorship is defeated.  And because of that, The Hangover’s dream is alive–hoping to one day author a book that will vie for consideration on the 2010-2020 list of Most Frequently Challenged. 

What?  Who wants this blog shut down?

McCain’s Speech – Almost Famous

John McCain’s acceptance speech was to be a highlight of the Republican National Convention.  Let’s face it, the man has experience to draw from: Five years in a Vietmanese prison camp to the Keating Five to his 2000 campaign being sunk by a Bush-Rove dirty torpedo to not knowing how many houses he owns.  But he finally got what he wanted, a chance to be President.  One would figure he’d have a lot to say, but it wouldn’t necessarily be easy.

He had to follow Sarah Palin.  The pundits were thrilled by her preformance Wednesday night when she gave a riveting and engaging speech.  Hopefully, the folks at Fox were able to save their wool suits by borrowing the druel buckets the talking heads at MSNBC used during Obama’s acceptance at the DNC.  That people were surprised by Palin strikes the Hangover as being foolish, if not sexist.  Just because the woman is attractive, Americans shouldn’t assume she is incapable of stringing together a few sentences.  After all, she is a former sportscaster and current governor.  Did they expect her to sound like a go-go dancer after one too many midnight happy hours?  But I digress.

While waiting for McCain’s speech, I happened to catch the beginning of Almost Famous on one of the numerous HBO stations populating Time Warner cable.  After five minutes, there wasn’t even a decision to be made.  I could watch a four-star depiction of a budding journalist in a rock and roll setting with numerous three-dimensional characters, or I could listen to a politician spouting the same lines he’s been treading out since this campaign really started back in, what, 1988?  If one doesn’t know who John McCain is and what he stands for by now, those are the people who shouldn’t be allowed a vote. 

The Hangover didn’t need to hear that speech, not when presented with such an alternative.  The characters in the film, William Miller, the members of the fictional Stillwater, Penny Lane, Elaine Miller, etc.., were more real than anyone speaking at or covering the convention–which when you boil it down, is nothing more than a week long political advertisement. 

There’s a scene in the movie when guitar hero Russell Hammond (Billy Cruddup) is tripping on acid, standing on the roof of a garage, proclaiming, “I am a Golden God.”  The moment offers a profound lack of false modesty, which surely fouled the air in Minneapolis.   As Hammond then contemplates jumping and his possible last words, he settles on ”I’m on Drugs.”  Fitting, again.  One, because in the world of the film, it is true, and two, because you’d have to be on drugs to believe that anyone you’ve seen at either of these conventions was as truthfuly portrayed as the characters in Almost Famous.   Judge for yourself: