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"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun" |
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We figured something was up this weekend, when School Sucks founder Kenny Sahr sent us a spam written in the sort of non-idiomatic tense structure ("School Sucks is serving homework assignments since July 1996....") that demonstrates the dangers of not doing your own homework. And sure enough, it turns out the war between students looking to shanghai essays on Kierkegaard and professors trying to bust them has been heating up in recent weeks, as the copycat-detecting site Plagiarism.org has begun to attract worldwide attention. The sad truth is that there are few term paper cheats decent enough to mark their tracks by, say, turning in the proverbial essay that begins, "In my last chapter I ...," Plagiarism.org, the work of Berkeley graduate student John Barrie, uses meta searches and a handsomely
color-coded printout the campus lunkhead's pilfered handiwork. Barrie spoke with us from his office at Berkeley.
Just as the crudeness of soap operas as push technology for sartorial surfactants has given way to the relative subtlety of simple product placement (last year Metropolis magazine noted that the mere act of putting shmancy plastic objects on the coffee table of Ally McBeal's psychologist was enough to incite interest), the magalog has come a long way from its crude beginnings as a flimsy
stroke book PalmPilot-wielding swimsuit models. The latest addition to this tree-killing genre to land on our desk is CML: The Camel Quarterly ("Pleasure to Burn Since 1913"), a UK-produced, perfect-bound, 132-page magazine from RJ Reynolds Tobacco that has all the design sense and editorial vacuity of Tibor Kalman's Colors for Benetton. We've been fans of RJ Reynolds' branding efforts for Camel since the launch of retro-chic Red Kamels back in 1997, but this time we fear the effort may backfire. The magazine's charter decrees that CML is meant "to be informative, inspiring, and above all entertaining.... We also hope you like the cool new products we've developed for you, like our Camel exotic blends and our international range of accessories," including CML Turkish Blend Coffee (US$9), mints ($5), and two-piece brushed aluminum corkscrew/can opener ($49). While we knew better than to look for discounts on Camels, our favorite article is "Cheat and Eat," a recipe section that includes Campbell's Tomato Soup with garlic and basil, spinach omelettes, and in a strangely oblique show of solidarity with fellow cancermonger Philip Morris Stove Top Stuffingstuffed tomatoes. While clearly aimed at the average Joe or Jane who's more Martha Rae than Martha Stewart, one wonders if the pictorial isn't designed to teach folks how to eat cheaply, thus saving money for cigs. The Web is a treasure trove of Shatner. There's the inevitable quote servers, the eternal yell of
"Kahn," acting simulator alumnus' career has become a monument to scenery chewing. Besides the beloved James T.
Kirk Singalong site also preserved Shatner's very
bad acting fiction convention, an unforgettable photo of Shatner holding a backward camera tripod, and little-known series highlights ("I remember in an old episode Kirk was sleeping and in walked Spock and Bones who had been fighting. They noticed Kirk had a hard-on and proceeded to lick and suck it until he showered them with approval"). Taking their rightful place among these cultural treasures was Salon's five-part article about who killed Star Trek pointing a finger at producer Rick Berman. ("The dirty little secret is Berman and the people running 'Star Trek' right now hate 'The Original Series' and hate being compared to it," they quote a "sci-fi magazine journalist" as saying.) Though the piece was tied to countless milestones this week's video release of "Free Enterprise" and "Spock vs. Q," and next month's release of Trekkies plus Star Trek IV on DVD this sort of undercuts Salon's point about the death of the franchise. It's hard to see concerns about Star Trek as a pressing issue of the day. Countless articles just amount to repetitive exercises in Treksploitation, whether the approach is journalistic or speculative fiction. Which misses a more significant drama, since any well-informed Trekker will tell you that the show's real-life actors intersected the major social issues of the day. During World War II, George "Mr. Sulu" Takei was interned in a Japanese-American "relocation center," and Nichelle "Lieutenant Uhura" Nichols' conversation with Dr. Martin Luther King is legendary. On another front, Grace "Yeoman Rand" Whitney cites sexual harassment as one of the factors in her leaving the show. But ultimately, it seems that in the story of Star Trek, the final insurmountable frontier turns out to be overinflated egos. On the road to canonization, miracles must be committed in your name, and it helps to have a few inaccuracy-spouting Irishmen involved too. Such has been the posthumous fate of Walter Payton, whose ghostly presence the City of Big Shoulders is crediting with Sunday's away win over arch rival Green Bay Packers. When Bears special teamer Bryan Robinson ascended bodily above Lambeau Field to block a late-game field goal, Chicagoans were all too ready to believe the spirit of Sweetness had provided an unlikely boost to the burly defender. Meanwhile, nitpicking fans of da Bears have used Payton's untimely death as a cudgel against the Daley family, particularly backup brother John, whose fumbling of the career rushing champion's number at a memorial service has been attributed to Payton's famous practical joking by some (We suspect another kind of spirit was to blame). Rumors of a financial miracle may be less reliable; even without the beyond-the-grave assist, da Bears easily covered the spread against the hapless Pack. courtesy of theSucksters |
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