Last night, Alaska governor and Republican VP pick Sarah Palin gave her first media interview. We wanted to know: If you had the chance to interview Sarah Palin, what would you ask her? We heard everything from questions about her hunting ethics to how much she made in an eBay auction. What would you ask? Tell us in the comments!

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Just days after leaving Denver and the Democratic National Convention, I was sitting in Nashville’s Bluebird Cafe listening to rising singer/songwriters audition during the weekly Writer’s Night tryouts. This is where the stars of tomorrow come, hoping to make it big. The selection process is rigorous—only 10 out of every 100 people who try out for Writer’s Night will get to take the tiny stage in the 100-seat cafe—but the payoff can be huge: The audience is filled with record executives, producers, and other industry types, and the walls are covered with signed headshots of country-music stars who have performed there before.

Last Sunday, the new artists were introduced by the emcee with a joke in which they were asked about the latest person to become an overnight sensation in a different field: Alaska governor Sarah Palin, John McCain’s vice-presidential pick. Who, the joke went, would be your Alaskan running mate? The answers ranged from Chinook salmon to walrus to singer/songwriter Michael McDonald to the fictional “Dwight Adirondack of Nome, Alaska.”

All week, the question among convention-goers had been: Will it work? Was the plan to host the final night of the Democratic convention in Mile High Stadium too audacious even for the candidate who defines audaciousness? No candidate had given an acceptance speech in a stadium since John F. Kennedy in 1960. Thursday night was pregnant with meaning, anticipation, and nervousness.

Doors opened for the stadium—also known as Invesco Field—at 1 PM, and while lines were relatively short for convention-goers with credentials, the more than 50,000 members of the public who attended the speech waited in lines up to half a mile long. An indication of the security pervading the night came at the metal detectors, which were staffed by officers from agencies as diverse as Secret Service, suburban-Denver police, the Colorado Department of Corrections, and the Transportation Security Administration. Helicopters circled overhead, and countersniper teams were visible on every stadium rooftop.

The only major problem with the night’s program was that there were hours and hours to fill with only a few key speakers, all in anticipation for Obama’s arrival and speech at 8 PM local time. Shortly after 3, the first band took the stage, followed by a random-seeming assortment of Congress members, governors, and grassroots supporters punctuated by performances by Sheryl Crow, Stevie Wonder, and a joint performance by John Legend and Will.i.am of the iconic pro-Obama song “Yes We Can,” which defined the race back in February. The program stretched long enough in the hot Colorado sun that, in the row in front of me, one woman did needlepoint, a man read a poll briefing, and another worked away on his laptop. Lines for food, beer, and especially pricey bottled water—this was a stadium, after all—were long, although there was never a Dippin’ Dots line.

The Republican convention next week in Minneapolis is supposed to be the pessimistic convention: President Bush has approval ratings stuck in the mid-20s, many of the top-tier Senate candidates are staying home either to campaign or to distance themselves from the party’s brand, and nearly everyone expects the Republicans to lose seats in Congress in November. So why is it that everything so far at the Democratic convention seems infused with just a hint of dread?

The first night’s speaking program, despite its emotional highlights from Ted Kennedy and the Obama children, is being seen as a waste of airtime, at least in terms of firing up voters and introducing Barack Obama to the country. Throughout the convention so far, there seems to be no overall governing narrative, little sense in the first two days that the party is doing what it must to narrow the knowledge gap about the Obamas: Who is Barack, this wunderkind who appeared to the nation just four years ago? What’s his background like? What are his values like? Can he connect with me? Can he feel my pain?

DENVER—John McCain can’t win the November election. That’s not to say, of course, that Barack Obama can’t lose the November election. Make no mistake—Obama could still lose big. But for better or worse, this election isn’t about John McCain.

As we watch the dynamics of the election shape up and Democrats convene here in Denver to celebrate the nomination of a new type of presidential candidate—one who not only is the first African-American to head a national ticket but also represents a new generation of hope and change in a way that only a few transformational candidates in history have ever done—it’s clear that this election is Barack Obama’s to lose and that he might, against the odds, do just that.

This weekend saw a clear example of how he might go about it.

Conventions in modern-day are little more than the excuse to throw a party — or more accurately lots and lots of parties. Sunday night in Denver, even before the actual convention got under way at the Pepsi Center on Monday, the party scene was already in full force. Outside of the city at the Red Rocks amphitheater, global warming activists Laurie David led a green event for thousands, headlined by Sheryl Crow, Dave Matthews, and Sugarland. At the pre-reception, hosted by Dominion Power for delegates from Ohio, West Virginia, Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, Western food was in abundance —  bison sliders and venison sausage, along with baked beans, corn on the cob, and make-your-own s’mores.

Virginia Governor Tim Kaine, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt that he would absolutely not been allowed to wear had he been named the Democratic vice presidential nominee on Saturday, worked the reception. His Virginia state troopers mingled at the edge of the audience with the Pennsylvania troopers assigned to protect Ed Rendell, who was also greeting the members of his delegation. Environmentalist Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., was a big hit with the crowd, although his smart suit made him look out of place with the casual audience.

George Allen didn’t set out to end his political career two years ago today. During a speech to a small crowd near the Kentucky border in the midst of his Senate reelection campaign on August 11, 2006, he uttered what is probably the most famous slur in modern politics; the “macaca” moment was captured on videotape by a tracker from his opponent’s campaign. The rest, they say, is history. Allen, who was at the time the leading contender for the Republican presidential nomination in 2008, lost his Senate bid and his hopes to lead the party to the White House.

How would our political landscape be different today if George Allen had never said “macaca?”

Given the huge influence that online video had, just months after YouTube became popular, it seems fitting to commemorate it today with a round-up of a dozen similar videos that have influenced this presidential election. This is, as I argued earlier this year in my book, The First Campaign, the first presidential campaign of the information age. George Allen was the first victim.

Ever since that fateful “gotcha” moment two years ago, a multifaceted war for eyeballs and votes has played out on YouTube. Just this past week, Paris Hilton entered the online political debate and a compendium of John McCain’s flubs ricocheted around progressive blogs.

Here are my picks for 2008’s dozen most important, influential, or groundbreaking online videos: