S U C K

"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun"
for 19 September 1995. Updated every WEEKDAY.
 

 
The Sickness Unto Death
 

[Use Hearing Protection]

If ever there was a medium which

served as a ready reminder of

our own mortality, it's the Web.

As the incarnation of someone

else's overreaching fantasy made

horribly real (but only to be a

constant reminder of what will

never be), the Web is the first

of the new "interactive media"

to give us so little for so

much: it demands our attention

and forces us to interact, but

only as so many mindless

automatons basking in the

phosphorescent glow of our

"terminals", developing RSI and

serving as cancer hosts.

 

[Hollow Point Bullet]

Is it any wonder, then, that one

of the more popular Web sites,

URouLette, is based on the most

desperate of gambler's games?

You say most of the links are

stale or broken? Welcome to

modernity.

 

[Squashed Bug]

The modern, of course, gives us

more than just the technological

wonders made possible by

criss-crossing the earth with

metal and spun glass: witness

the homage to childhood fantasy,

ordered, regimented, and made

stale which is Disneyland. Even

in this sanitized dreamscape,

however, the underlying

industrial mechanisms extract

their true price: if the grounds

and rides are spotless, it's

only because the blood's been

wiped clean.

 

[The Scream]

If you prefer your death to be

packaged more straightforwardly,

your consuming passions may lead

you to the calm reassurance of

Faces of Death, by which the act

of dying can be bought like any

other commodity. For those who

prefer to be faced with the

"real" thing, the Web has to

offer Dan's Gallery of the

Grotesque, where all those pics

that have been floating around

Usenet for years are

conveniently collected in one

place for your armchair viewing.

Finally, with half the laughs

but twice the perversion,

there's the child-torturing

Diary of Death.

 

[Ian Curtis, R.I.P.]

Ready to put yourself out of your

misery? Although you could

belabor the point by worshipping

at the altar of Ian Curtis or

joining a cult such as the Church of

Euthanasia, or consider what

might be the most interesting

way to die today (not to mention

who you might be doing a favor,

besides yourself), it's always

been most effective to grab a

handful of sleeping pills and a

plastic bag. Before you go,

don't forget to immortalize

yourself with a home page for

all eternity.

[Dead Gladys]




courtesy of Webster