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    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

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    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

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    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

Hank Williams III

A square genre in a round hole

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By Cole Haddon

Published on May 25, 2006

If you've been racing down local dirt roads in your pickup, jamming to Toby Keith or Gretchen Wilson, then you should probably skip this week's Hank III concert. Plastering a Confederate flag in your back window might buy you a redneck pass (and hopefully a good ass-whuppin'), but it doesn't mean you know country, it doesn't mean you know punk rock, and it sure as hell doesn't mean you know what Hank III is all about, brother. With his band Assjack, the grandson of Saint Hank Sr. and the son of Bocephus walks the line between old-school country and hardcore punk, turning his live shows into unhealthy mixes of styles that draw crowds as diverse as they come, but expect a lot of bitching about how Nashville's Curb Records fucked over his career via contractual dictates. The way things are going, the self-promoted Outlaw country artist might have to change his name, à la Prince, to a symbol. How about the middle finger?