It's axiomatic - every

half-amusing idea (especially

those Suck ideas!) is destined

to earn some slyly opportunistic

greedbag a well-deserved buck or

two. Time and time again, we've

infuriated the net.censorship

watchdogs with our

counterproductive insinuations

that the Web is nothing but a

community of lechers. (Look no

further back than yesterday!)

We're at a loss over whether we

should weep or deliver a

standing ovation to the

entrepreneurs at Hunter Digital,

whose latest product is the

NoHands Mouse. While touted as a

medically beneficent tool in

the fight against carpal tunnel,

the secondary applications given

in the ad copy says it all: "the

NoHands Mouse is a godsend to

on-line subscribers who spend

countless hours surfing the

Internet ... when work is done

and it's time to play, the

NoHands Mouse frees-up your

hands to operate steering

wheels, joysticks and other game

accessories." Here's a simple

suggestion for the makers of the

NoHands Mouse: invest in a

single ad banner on The Spot.

You'll thank us later.

Suck parodies: Sure, they get our

attention and all, but if you're

dead-set on wasting hours of

your not-so-valuable time paying

tribute to our meager efforts,

why not tell us ahead of time -

we'll pass the mic and give you

Suck center stage. We'd be happy

to take the night's sleep in

exchange. Actually, we take that

back - we're the only ones

allowed to get self-indulgent

around here - hey, we earn it!

The latest entry into the Suck

pretenders sweepstakes is Blow,

which evolves our "shooting fish

in a barrel" theme into its

natural successor, "taking candy

from a baby." You can probably

skip the lead piece (which

basically lets us off scot-free,

while safely predicting our

quick migration to the land of

passé has-beens) and jump

straight to their bite on our

Good luck, guys - you're sure to

break the bank with your IPO.

And for all of you who've

suggested we've descended to

authoring parodies of ourselves

in our spare time, allow us to

remind you that we've got our

hands full doing exactly that

each and every time we settle

down to write the next day's

Suck.

You've heard the R.E.M. song, now

visit the Web site. If you've

only seen Andy Kaufman as Latka

on Taxi, you've never seen Andy.

Inter-Gender Wrestling Champion,

Elvis impersonator, and

sometimes-alter ego to Las Vegas

lounge lizard Tony Clifton, Andy

was a performance artist who

shrugged past overarching

theoretical stances to produce

work of true brilliance,

creating real-life characters

which intentionally broke down

before our eyes. A stand-up

comic who wasn't afraid to have

the audience laugh at him rather

than with him, Andy's tearful

"why are you laughing at me?"

had the power to turn an

audience from genuine laughter

to nervous chuckles, and from

mere witnesses to participants

in an identity-questioning game

without real boundaries.

Unfortunately, despite the good

writing, none of Andy's magic is

captured on his posthumous home

page - instead, what's felt is

the weight of the man's absence.

We just wonder if we've put

enough distance between

ourselves and our own home pages

to realize if we're simply

achieving presence through

its lack - but didn't we say

something about overarching

theoretical stances?

Though J.K. Potter's art tends to

grace the covers of books that

are most notable for their

contribution to the canon of

timeless doggerel, there's

something perversely satisfying

in viewing his twisted

photographs, even if a large

part of their attraction lies in

Potter's ability to simulate

Photoshop effects with more

traditional techniques. Don't

misunderstand us - we'll never

be rich enough to throw money

away on book with a title like

Horripilations, especially when

we can slurp his works for free

every time we accidentally step

foot in one of those "Ye Olde

Hobbit"-type sci-fi bookstores.

Potter's creations, then, have

finally found their proper

medium in the Razorfish-hosted

Biomorphosis, which offers

highlights from his collection

at an attractive and appropriate

price.

Potter apparently is not immune

to the ever-popular parody

fever, either. It set our hearts

at ease to discover that he was

not in any way responsible for

the recent Johnnie Walker Black

Label magazine ad which sports a

suspiciously derivative style,

though executed with infinitely

less finesse than any

pixel-pusher would even

accidentally achieve (for what

it's worth). While we still

wouldn't exactly urge you to

invest in a robust collection of

Potter paraphernalia, an

unintended side-effect of a

successful "exhibit" could be

the expansion of the Bess

Cutler Gallery site, which

features some bona fide artisans

along with the more notable pop

culture swindlers of the 90's.

We may be a little old for Pizz

posters in our bedrooms, but,

again, we can't think of a more

appropriate home for the

pantheon of lowbrow semigods -

after a cheap paperback by

Piers Anthony - than that

avatar post-post-literate media,

the World Wide Web.