So the current Voice cover story is a vintage Hobes political exegesis of the big summer movies, with about as many cathartic laugh-out-loud moments as you'd expect ("A vulgar Marxist might note that as Batman is the alter-ego of the richest man in Gotham City, his "law" is the protection of capital. [Smeared lipstick notwithstanding, one of the scariest things about the Joker is that he has no respect for money.]" Seriously.) You should read it, it's great.
It also spends a lot of time talking about the 1952 election (Obama as Adlai; McCain as Ike) and early Arms Race terror, in the context of the first really televised campaig, Z-grade Red Scarey sci-fi flicks to indoctrinate the kiddies (except: what, Hobes, no The Day the Earth Stood Still? It was '51, you know), and proto-neocon (proto-neo? Oops) Westerns like High Noon.
And you may be like, well, this is fascinating stuff, undoubtedly, this sociopolitical analysis of the popcult detritus of the early 50s (and, not incidentally, Hoberman's very early childhood), but why?
And then you (I) read Hoberman's review of Richard Brody's Godard bio in the current issue of Harper's, and it says in his About the Author that "[Hoberman] is currently working on a prequel to The Dream Life: Movies, Media, and the Mythology of the Sixties." The Dream Life being his fascinating sociopolitical analysis of the popcult detritus of the pre-60s, the 60s, and the post-60s, and the prequel presumably being a sociopolitical analysis of the roots of the return from the Depression and the War, our national Eisenhower-reared childhood, Davey Crockett and George Reeves and, yes, High Noon versus Adlai Stevenson. So, yeah, if you like the Voice cover story this week buy Hoberman's book, when he finishes writing it.