Being a lash-baron has consequences. If you are approaching December correctly, you will understand what Kingsley Amis meant when he described a hangover as a “vast, vague, awful, shimmering metaphysical superstructure”. There is no time to waste messing around with nonsense cures, suggested by some sage who swears their niche method handed down for generations will stop your heart “beating like a f***ed clock”, as seen in Withnail and I. In a recent experiment, mice were given a molecule called cytokine, which your body produces more of when you drink alcohol, and it all went wrong — adult males refused to socialise and mothers displayed “impaired nest-building”. So which of these mythical cures are worth trying and which will only prolong the misery?