All the News That's Fit to Crib?

Now that the bloom is off

flogging heroin chic and Pierre

Salinger, The New York Times has

found a new horse to beat for

its tut-tutting readership's

satisfaction: students

downloading term papers from the

Web. But the self-styled paper

of record has an online

attribution problem of its own.

Many readers of Word.com did a

double take after spotting a

recent "Lives" page essay in the

Times Magazine by Manhattan

freelancer Lucinda Rosenfeld.

The piece was a digest version

of Rosenfeld's "Diary of a

Garterbelt Feminist," published

months before at Word after

extensive in-house improvements.

Though initially flattered by

the reprint request, Word

staffers were understandably

livid when the Gray Lady

steadfastly refused to

acknowledge that the piece had

been cobbled from a webzine.

Though disgruntled, Word

ultimately deferred to the

aspiring young scribe's wishes,

figuring local media snipers

would pick up on the intrigue.

Sure enough, some ferrets at The

New York Observer and New

York Magazine started licking

their pointy snouts, but both stories

were quietly killed. Now Word hopes

that the news will spread

electronically, which would only

prove that people who work in

newsprint houses shouldn't fan

flames.

Used to be that breaking the

mafia's central law, omerta, or

silence, meant death. But with

today's mob stars wearing

US$2,200 suits and having 20/20

"sit-downs" with Diane Sawyer

(and only Diane - even hit men

want solid ratings), former New

York Daily News reporter Jerry

Capeci's Gang Land Web site is a

'90s necessity. Essentially a

mob gossip column, Capeci keeps

you up to date on trials, wars,

and significant rub outs.

Currently, Capeci is covering

the endless soap opera he dubs

"Chin's World," the tale of

Vincent "the Chin" Gigante,

reputed Genovese crime boss, who

evades the FBI by claiming he's

crazy, walking the streets of

Manhattan in his bathrobe and

talking to buildings. Also

included are a sound-bite page

of John Gotti from his FBI file

tapes, updates on NY Chinese

mobster Wing Yeung Chan, and the

ever-popular "Ask Andy" feature,

wherein readers can quiz mob

expert Andy on mob history and

etiquette via email. Please,

give them a hit.

A glance at any bestseller list

proves that there is only one

King of Horror. But since the

Maine Machine's slipshod and

careless habits make him seem

more Louis XVI than Henry V,

it's heartening to watch the

growing power of pretender to

the throne Wes Craven. With the

self-deconstructing

chef-d'oeuvre Scream, and the

meta-Freddy pièce de

résistance Wes Craven's

New Nightmare, the auteur has so

firmly established himself as

the Pirandello of slasher movies

that it's hard to believe he

took some lumps a few years back

for refusing to sit through a

screening of Reservoir Dogs

(given both men's subsequent

careers, it's likely Uncle Wes

wasn't squeamish - just bored by

Tarantino's artlessness). Now

comes the best news of all -

that the long-awaited Freddy vs.

Jason grudge match may actually

be coming to fruition.

Apparently slated to unspool in

1998, the matchup is not an

ideal title card - the

wisecrackery of Child's Play's

Chucky would have fit better

with Freddy's mordant wit. But

aficionados will recall that

Sean Cunningham's Friday the

13th series, like Beowulf,

features a mother/son killing

team, so there are numerous

possibilities afoot. Whatever

happens, the long argument in

the bleachers over who is

horror's biggest baaadass will

be settled once and for all (or

at least until the next

installment). Who will win? None

can say (though we're betting

Freddy will make Jason eat that

fuckin' hockey mask). But Craven

himself, whose mastery of the

sanguineous realm is now

undisputed, is already the

champ.

According to Cincinnati police,

24-year-old Sandra Hacker was so

obsessed with the Internet, she

locked her three young children

in another room so she could

concentrate on surfing the Web

for up to 12 hours a day. Tipped

off by her estranged husband,

police arrested Hacker and

removed her children from a

debris-ridden, shit-smeared

apartment that was littered with

broken glass. Hacker's Web

devotion has us reevaluating

Salon's new "Mothers Who Think"

department: Maybe

child-neglecting modem-moms

truly are the dream demographic

that will help bring

profitability to the Web

publishing industry. It wouldn't

be the first time that Salon's

floundered into Net success:

When the self-selecting "People

who read" didn't come as quickly

as desired, Salon gave them

titillating tales to make them

come even faster. And after

months of writing about sex,

it's about time they finally

addressed its consequences.