Suck

"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun"
for 30 June 1997. Updated every WEEKDAY.

The Monkeys Spank Back

Everyone knows that corralling a
couple dozen chimps and an equal
number of typewriters will
produce, at the very least, a
Hollywood screenplay. But what
if you're not aiming that high?
What if all you want is a men's
magazine? Could chimps produce
something as gloriously
sublingual, as frustratingly
fixated as the four-month-old
Maxim?

Even chimps get to play, after
all, and rumor has it their
minds can process literally
dozens of thoughts at a time.
Maxim, on the other hand, seems
the product of a much more
primitive primate: the suburban
teenager. A combination of
leering yet ominously
emotionless cheesecake (you
might get a bigger charge from
looking at phone-sex ads) and
"service" articles whose dubious
utility puts one in mind of
"Fetish" as imagined by Pauly
Shore, it's no surprise that
Maxim is bankrolled by British
publishing magnate Felix Dennis,
who amassed his fortune through
a combination of computer trade
rags and kung fu fanzines: this
is a magazine constructed by and
for individuals who've never
actually met a woman. Or so
you'd think: the editor in chief
of this insult to carrier
chromosomes is Claire McHugh,
Harvard grad and former editor
of Marie Clare.

McHugh's embrace of the
magazine's aesthetic (described
in one memorably euphemistic
moment as "heterosexual,
relentlessly so") is complete
enough as to suggest either a
lobotomy or a feminist mole
operation whose depth and
brilliance rivals Gloria
Steinem's Playboy bunny stint.
Only a woman deeply committed to
destroying the American male's
psyche from the inside out could
baldly state (in an interview
with the Chicago Sun-Times) that
most men's magazines were too,
you know, wordy: "One of my big
priorities is to do
photographs," said McHugh, "I
think that men are more visual
than women in general, and men's
magazines have not been visual
enough." At a time in publishing
when men's magazines are
scrambling to appeal the
mythical demographic that read
the "old Spy™", it is
somewhat refreshing to find an
editor who thinks writing is
superfluous: "Maxim isn't a
heavy text magazine."

The clearest proof of Maxim's
subversive role in the great
feminist overthrow is archived
in bits at the Maxim Web site.
These "rules for women" are
probably intended to be humor,
but they're mostly jokes that
weren't funny when they were
scrawled on the cave wall.
Indeed, if there exists a man in
America today who might find
Maxim funny, he's probably
sitting on the Supreme Court. So
what are they really? They're an
acute analysis of men's faults
that rivals Andrea Dworkin's in
both vitriol and accuracy. They
make women feel superior and
make men ashamed they have a
penis. Which is, we hope, the
point.

Maxim says: Never buy a "new"
brand of beer because "it was on
sale."
Maxim means: I drink what
I drink, and I don't want your
opinions.

Maxim says: If we're in the
backyard and the TV in the den
is on, that doesn't mean we're
not watching it.
Maxim means: I paid for the
fucking TV so don't touch it.

Maxim says: Don't tell anyone
we can't afford a new car. Tell
them we don't want one.
Maxim means: Repress personal
values to conform to societal
beliefs, or I'll get angry.

Maxim says: Whenever
possible, please try to say
whatever you have to say during
commercials.
Maxim means: Shut up and get
me a beer.

Maxim says: Only wearing your
new lingerie once does not send
the message that you need more.
It tells us lingerie is a bad
investment.
Maxim means: I should have
bought a new pair of Zubaz™
instead.

Maxim says: Please don't drive
when you're not driving.
Maxim means: If you could drive
you'd be driving, so shut up.

Maxim says: Don't feel compelled
to tell us how all the people in
your little stories are related
to one another: We're just
nodding, waiting for the
punchline.
Maxim means: My expression of
love is based on your allowing
me to fuck you; not me listening
to anything that means anything
to you.

Maxim says: If you want us to
take out the garbage, you have
to let us pack the car.
Maxim means: If you let us pack
the car, you have to take out
the garbage.

Maxim says: The quarterback who
just got pummeled isn't trying
to be brave, he's just not
crying. Big difference.
Maxim means: I have repressed
homoerotic longings for Brett
Favre.

Maxim says: When the waiter
asks if everything's OK, a
simple "Yes" will do.
Maxim means: Don't interact with
anyone who might actually treat
you with a shred of respect.
FYI, I'm paying for this meal.

Maxim says: What do you mean,
"leering"? She's obstructing my
view.
Maxim means: She would most
probably allow me to have sex
with her since she doesn't know
how I treat you.

Maxim says: When I'm turning the
wheel and the car is nosing onto
the offramp, saying, "This is
our exit," is not strictly
necessary.
Maxim means: If you could drive
you'd be driving, so shut up.

Maxim says: When you're not
around, I belch so loudly that I
even appall myself.
Maxim means: I belch in hopes
that one day my quarterback will
hear my belch and free me from
my destructive cycle of abuse.

Maxim says: The temperature in
the cave will be my responsibility.
It will be slightly to moderately
cooler than you want it.
Maxim means: I am a fuck.

Maxim says: SportsCenter starts
at 11:00 p.m. and runs one hour.
This is an excellent time for
you to pay bills, put laundry in
the dryer, or talk to your
sister.
Maxim means: While you're
talking to your sister, ask her
why she isn't happily married
like you.

Maxim says: Is it too much to ask
to have the bra match the
underwear?
Maxim means: I wish I could wear
a bra.

Maxim says: If we see you in the
morning and at night, why call
us at work?
Maxim means: I wish I had a
rewarding job.

Maxim says: Two hot dogs and a
beer at a baseball game do, in
fact, constitute going out to
dinner.
Maxim means: Hot dogs remind
me of my last glimpse at
innocence.

Maxim says: You probably don't
want to know what we're thinking
about.
Maxim means: I cry.

Maxim says: Silence does not
need to be filled.
Maxim means: I truly - in my
soul - understand the beauty of
haiku.

Maxim says: It's in neither your
interest nor ours to take the
quiz together.
Maxim means: I have no fuckin'
idea how to construct a
sentence.

Maxim says: No, you can't
have the remote control.
Maxim means: I ate it.

courtesy of Ann O'Tate and
Miss Anthrope.

[Fresh Fish. If you clicked here, I might make more money. You love The Fish, admit it. Now click. Click, I say!]

"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun" for 30 June 1997. Updated every WEEKDAY.

"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun"
for 30 June 1997. Updated every WEEKDAY.