“A Troubled Man for Troubled Times!” reads the banner unfurled on main streets and town squares everywhere across the fruited plains. A rendering of a recognizable face adorned in disturbing deep-black eye makeup grins like the Cheshire Cat beneath the quaint tip of a top hat—his long, ebony locks drape the shoulders of his alabaster tuxedo. He is impish and defiant, a past filled with triumphs, resurrections, and a whole lot of rocking.
Alice Cooper wants your vote for president this fall.
“Do you know how un-political I am?” he chuckles down a phone-line from Nashville, Tennessee, somewhere along the campaign trail. “I can’t imagine why anybody would want to be president!” A welcomed sentiment for an electorate whose majority not only sees corruption and failure in government, but a foul distaste for the current front-running candidates from both major parties.
Why not The Coop? Why not now?
“Yeah…why not me?” he exclaims with the strident glow of a contender. “I have tee shirts to sell!”
The man who defined shock rock, parody, satire, and …