Our short reign as kings of the world is nearing its end. Just like all empires of the past who have squashed the banana of power in their iron-gloved fists, the hands of our government will soon be gummy with the remains of their ersatz conquests.

For handling this situation, a couple of options present themselves. You could become a grassroots organizer--start small and strive for change on a large scale, write letters and lobby the government to enact change. Yeah right, like that's ever going to work. No, the real way to deal with the circumstances of today's effed-up world is to blot it all out with some legendary partying. That's right, baby! Put your miserable self into a house full of drugs, alcohol, and good friends, and it adds up to this: you forgetting all the world's troubles in an instant! Yeah! And if you're going to party, you're gonna have to take it to the limit.

The old party paradigm--grab a couple suitcases of beer, invite some friends over, and hope someone will bring the blow--is totally out. This is not the 1980s, my friends! No, we live in a time of triumphant innovation inspired by genuine panic! I'm just sitting here, barely thinking, and I can recall a party I heard about, hosted by a guy for a select group of his friends. He gave them ecstasy and they hung out on the lawn inside the house. That's right, he put sod down in the living room.

Another time, three friends of mine celebrated their 30th birthdays by hosting a Logan's Run-inspired party, which culminated in the burning of three giant effigies of the birthday boys and girls. Gathered in the street with 100 of my drunkest friends, watching the blazing flames lick at the stars in the night sky above, I felt a special warmth. It wasn't the booze, and it wasn't the fire. It was the warmth of my renewed American pride welling up inside me. Also, there was a little bit of vomit.

The lesson is that, with a little imagineering, you can achieve new heights of partying. It's in your best interests to do so. You have to help stop the government crackdown! Hasn't anybody else noticed that Fred Meyer stopped carrying 24-packs of Pabst? Don't you know that buying American beer is good for the economy? These are just the first steps on the long, wobbly staircase leading to our freedom. Start climbing, heavenly soldier.