for 18 November 1997. Updated every WEEKDAY.

Suck Book

Though I've contributed to
Suck in the past, I knew I
couldn't count on anything as
gauche as, say, getting a
free copy of the new Suck
book. So I put my money down
at the local bookstore.

It looks like a nice, though
familiar, read. Good job.

I was surprised when my
bookstore, which takes 10
percent off the price of
every book, charged me the
full price for the Suck book.
"What's the deal?" I asked.
The friendly clerk explained
to me that they discounted
all books except the kind I
was buying, which the
publisher had labeled a
textbook.

Where do I enroll?

Ben Auburn

Enrollment is limited to
those with high standardized
test scores or huge bags of
cash. We suspect you have
neither.

Thanks for buying the book.
If it sells well enough,
we'll be able to option the
rights to The Suck Movie.

But then again, with the
Spice Girls movie on the way,
a Suck movie would really be
redundant, wouldn't it?

Devil in the Details

Dear Prolex,

Concerning your latest
article for Suck magazine and
the history of advertisements
in comic format, I would like
to draw your attention to
such a phenomenon of a
meanwhile considerable age.
The character of Lurchi,
invented in the '30s, has
lived through all phases of
cultural contexts that its
market had to offer, or
suffer for that matter. It is
one of the original animals
with a marketing mission, the
adventurer treading its soles
across all fantasy lands of
its times. These include the
Third Reich and fancying an
occasional Nazi uniform.

The solution to each task and
challenge is, of course, the
shoe - the ultimate ratio of
its existence is giving it to
you. In accordance with your
hidden attestation of "po-mo"
to the latest in ad-comix, it
becomes strikingly clear that
that modern comic character
is not only "living" in a
plotless world (which we all
are, Foucault-wise), but also
is associated with certain
goods for no particular
reason. (Accessories is an
interesting term.) The
identity of the individual is
strangely self-evident
through the nebula of tokens,
whereas the strident
amphibian of old is a fervent
precursor of a single-minded
determination: the shoe. Not
himself. I leave it to you
and your further explorations
(and everyone else's in fact)
whether that change of
paradigm is for the better or
worse. The comic finally is
nothing but ink and colors in
the hand of contemporaries.
No wonder it's mostly
disappointing and senseless.

Yours always,

D. Pool

We haven't based our identity
on the nebula of tokens since
the sixth grade, when we
lived for Ms. Pac-Man. But we
have been feeling glum and
apathetic for days - maybe
because we subconsciously
realized that we're just ink
and colors in the hands of
contemporaries. Or dust in
the wind ... take your pick.

The Lotto is a tax on stupid
people.

Nathan FMS Resick

We play Scratchers ... and
you?