S U C K

"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun"
for 2 November 1995. Updated every WEEKDAY.
 

 
Hit & Run VII
 

[Spin Cover Star]

If the mail we received begging

for a Suck-style assault is any

indicator, Wired's recent

Scenarios ad-vehicle ranks right

up there with the Zippies issue

as one of the rag's most

conspicuously ill-received

blunders. But Christmas has come

early for Coupland and Co. in

the form of the November issue

of Spin, whose abysmal copycat

speculations on "THE FUTURE"

make the Scenarios fluff seem like

Revelations prophecy. Every

half-baked cybercraze from the

past five years is regurgitated

here as a shocking new

breakthrough, from cryogenics,

ayahuasca, and Extropianism to

digital tattoos, e-cash, and

Fruitopianism. Discouragingly

enough, word has it that this

"Future of the Future" bandwagon

has been seized by every two-bit

culture rag on either coast -

expect similar steaming loafs in

your stocking this holiday

season courtesy of Details, Esquire,

et al. And Suck's prediction for

"the future"? Same as always:

overcast.

 

[Internic++]

"Your Domain Name Registration

form has been sent through the

appropriate channels, or not at

all. Depending on how the

submissions program liked your

answers to the various questions

it may have just been tossed in

the bit bucket. Sorry about

this, but not just anyone can

have a domain name anymore. We

have a strenuous screening

process to determine who is

worthy. The InterNIC++ offers

training class on how to improve

your success at getting a domain

name."

 

[BONG Bull]

Sure, there's two-weeks-old News

of the Weird, but the Burned-Out

Newspapercreatures Guild

delivers BONG Bull fresh off the

press. Although its course

content demands a refined taste,

the comix section alone - which,

in true reporterly fashion,

doesn't show, but tells the

adventures of Typo, the Wonder

Pig - makes it worthy of a few

cases of (in)digestion.

 

[SheThing/Secrets]

Here's a steel-cage match we'd

love to see: in one corner,

anti-Doom videogame advocate and

all-around cyberfeminist

eccentric Heidi Dangelmaier and

in the other, credulity-bending

chauvinist and (un)noted

digi-swine, Ross Jeffries.

Heidi's latest gift to the web

is SheThing, a tie-in to the

"womanhood-exalting" Ain't

Nuthin' But A She Thing album,

and an enjoyable exercise in

egalitarian propaganda in its

own right. Our favorite sequence,

The Maze of Misconception,

may not go down in the annals

of human history as a pivotal

consciousness-raiser, but it's

far from lacking in humor

(especially so if you answer

incorrectly). On the other hand,

Ross Jeffries's Secrets of Speed

Seduction single-handedly

legitimates almost everything

Heidi and her friends say, with

his crude affirmations of almost

every sexist stereotype yet

conceived. Here's a sample

tidbit of wisdom from Jeffries's

"Get-Laid" newsletter, on the

topic of "magic pick-up places":

 

[GET-LAID]

"...from 7 p.m. to around 1 a.m.

the coffee places that are

located near college campuses

are.... JAM-PACKED WITH COLLEGE

AGE SNATCH, STUDYING THEIR

POLITICAL SCIENCE, ART HISTORY,

ETC."

 

[Mammary Glands]

Despite his more overtly

misogynistic tendencies, credit

must be given to Ross for

pushing the envelope of online

self-misrepresentation - he's a

lonely guy, and it shows. If

it's the last thing we do, we're

going to get these two together

and see who comes out alive. (Oh

Ross, you sad fuck, we hardly

knew ya...)

 

[Club Wired Sucks]

So you think Suck is getting

played by The Man with our

upcoming Club Wired chat-room

appearance? Or perhaps you've

bought into the entertaining

hypothesis that Suck is a

manufactured stunt cooked up by

the HotWired "brain trust".

(Here's a Big Thought: if they

were smart enough to pull it

off, they wouldn't have had to

in the first place.) We'd advise

the contrarian faction to blow

their conspiracy-minded

intrigues right out of their

cans - but, for God's sake, do

it in public! Specifically,

tomorrow at 12 p.m. PST. (Bring

your own ammo.) Would you rather

listen to the whinnies of

overpaid, apotheosized

futurists? We didn't think so...




- Sucksters