The Fish
for 14 January 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.
 
 
Suck Staff
 

Joey Anuff
Joey Anuff
Editor in Chief

 

Terry Colon
Terry Colon
Art Director

 

[the fixin' pixie... ]
Emily Hobson
Production Manager
and Rhythm Guitar

 

Heather Havrilesky
Heather Havrilesky
Senior Editor

 

[Ian Connelly]
Ian Connelly
Marketing Manager

 

[Copy Edit]
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Suck Alumni
Suck Alumni Text
 

Carl Steadman
Carl Steadman
Co-Founder

 

Ana Marie Cox
Ana Marie Cox
Executive Editor

 

Sean (Duuuuude) Welch
Sean Welch
Suckgineer

 

Owen Thomas
Owen Thomas
Copy Editor

 


T. Jay Fowler

Production Manager

& Ass Kicker

 

[yes, it's a plunger. i'll l
eave the rest up to your imagination ... ]
Erin Coull
Production Manager

 

Monte Goode
Monte Goode
Ghost in the Machine

 

Matt Beer
Matt Beer
Development Manager

Year of the Rat

In regards to The Year of The
Rat: Right on.
Let the boomers
save for Ryan's private
health care and their own as
well if they've suddenly
discovered that they didn't
create themselves. And if
they think that WWII and the
Depression were so fucking
inspirational, I can see a
Challenge Weekend of
Discovery in their future
that I'd be happy to run.

I've personally never had a
problem respecting my
forebears. But sanctimonious
bullshit leaves a bad taste
in the mouth by definition.

Joseph Chonacky
<jocho@teleport.com>

You know, I've heard, and
believe, that even the
bullshit was better in the
'60s. I mean, have there been
any good songs since Barry
McGuire's "Eve of
Destruction" set us right on
peace and love?

If this van's a grokkin',
don't come a knockin',

Mr. M

 
Fish With Letter Icon

Subject: No, I'm Gonna Dance
on Your Grave

Mxyzptlk, I predict you will
be surprised at how quickly
you change into something
that readily serves as an
object of derision for people
who are 18, feel immortal,
and think they know
everything. Hey, back in
1977, I was only 26 and
already getting Jurassic
fogey references from people
like that.

Of course, it's 1999 now, and
they're fucking 40 years old,
and I've actually seen a
few of them die. Car
accidents, heart attacks,
cancer, whatever - live fast
and leave a good-looking
corpse, Gen-X'ers, because
Gens Y and Z are hot on your
tail, mocking you for being
ancient relics of a by-gone
era, laughing at doddering,
impotent failures wallowing in
the shards of broken dreams.
If you were so smart, how
come you didn't get filthy
rich on the Internet? After
all, plenty of people did. We
have a youth-obsessed
culture, M-dude, but the
moving hand, having writ,
moves on - that's the second
law of thermodynamics -
physics dictates that
everybody's gonna get old.

But biochemistry says that
not everybody is gonna age at
the same rate. Right now,
legions of nasty excited
molecules are reacting with
your DNA and scrambling the
code, they're eating holes in
your cell membranes and
basically making your whole
body go rancid. That's why
your granny is wrinkly and
smells funny, merry Suckster,
and why you're starting to
get a bit prune-faced and
ripe yourself - it's all free-
radical oxidation. And it's
impossible to turn that
entropy back. All you can do
is slow it down.

But if someone figured out an
easy way to do that, why
tell? They'd have the FDA up
their keister quicker than
you can say "proven safe and
effective in double-blind
clinical trials at a
statistically significant
level." No, no, I think it
would be much better to
jitterbug and zydeco on the
graves of pitiful souls who
were strong, cogent, and
virile once - but didn't stay
that way very long.

Walter Bauer
<BauerW@DynCorp.com>

Mork calling Orson, Mork
calling Orson, come in, your
fatness. The earth people are
strange; they talk about
growing old, without talking
about growing up. But mostly
they make no sense at all,
except for gratuitous attacks
on the FDA, which are funny
even on Ork.

Shazzbot,

Mr. M

 
Fish With Letter Icon
 

Organization: International
Communist Conspiracy, Inc.

Subject: Boomers Praise the
Last Good War

Enjoyed the 29 December
piece very much.

Nicely said, and the quotes
from Spielberg, Brokaw, and,
particularly, Inouye, were
well chosen. The patent
inaccuracy of the latter two
almost eclipses the
insipidity of the first. The
idea that "we" were united in
any meaningful way in or by
WWII is insane, and there are
plenty of marvelously
well-documented and extremely
readable testimonies to that
effect, not the least of
which is Paul Fussell's book
Wartime, which I found very
eye-opening, indeed. There's
also plenty of information
about the way certain parts
of that "we" were
horrendously abused; the use
of black and Nissei troops in
Italy, the internment of
Japanese Americans, rejection
of fleeing European Jews, and
treatment of freed
concentration camp survivors
for a start.

None of this was lost on the
folks who were there, by the
way. They produced films and
plays like Bad Day at Black
Rock, Crossfire,
and Home of
the Brave
while the Brits
were still recycling Mrs.
Miniver.

As for the Depression, cheez
- hasn't anyone read Grapes
of Wrath?
Uncomplaining, my
ass. How 'bout the Veterans'
March on DC, the Wobblies and
the railroad strikes? Don't
they count? And does anyone
besides Strom Thurmond
remember the Dixie-crats?

This "good old days" bullshit
was hard enough to take from
the people who were actually
there and should have known
better; to have to swallow
white, male children of
privilege blathering like
idiots about a time that
never was makes my skin
crawl.

As for your major point,
while respect for the elderly
is not in and of itself a bad
idea, I'd prefer to choose
whom I revere and why. My
mom, for example, was a
single working mother in
suburbia before that became a
sit-com cliché. Her
memories of the Depression
include things like the
alcoholic uncle who slept on
the front porch because he
had nowhere else to go and
her father being put out of
business by a competitor who
burned his warehouse down.
There was plenty of
complaining about that,
believe you me.

Thanks again for the cheerful
fin-de-sickle punditry.

Rob Seulowitz
<rss2@idt.net>

Thank you. And please note
that Paul Fussell is a big
fat windbag who was once
featured in People magazine.

Dr. M

 
Fish With Letter Icon
 

'Twas the Night Before
Christmas

Working the week of Christmas I simply abhor.
Getting any task completed is a genuine chore.
Then along came a story of holiday cheer,
A fish and a hack all whacked out on beer.

A hack like myself could certainly relate
To the humorous story of fishy's ill fate.
When to my astonishment a shadow arose,
From over my shoulder my boss read your prose.

"Well what is this? What is this Suck page?"
(By now I was feeling the wrath of his rage)
"I came here to see what's wrong with my LAN!
Now chase down my print job, or you will be canned!"

The problem was simple that I had addressed,
But my boss was still angry, he was not impressed.
He said not a word, no thank you, nor quip.
He outstretched a hand that held my pink slip.

So here I am in Palm Beaches warm sun,
A smile on my face, yes, I'm still having fun.
My palm tree is decorated with gold balls and white lights,
I truly enjoy a Christmas with 80-degree nights.

So thank you to Suck for another humorous year.
With you and yours in mind I raise up my beer!
"Happy holidays Sucksters, you writers of trash!"
From a dedicated reader, soon to be short on cash.

Wade Thomas
<w_thomas@bellsouth.net>

See how rhyming makes dull
things seem fine? We're
thinking of rhyming straight
through '99!

 
Fish With Letter Icon
 

Year of the Rat

OK, Mr M., I confess that
boomers leave me barfing -
and not in any small way.
Anyone who reads any of the
materials produced by them
during the '60s - or in the
recent let's-all-look-back
craze - will realize that
most boomers run around
saying something to the
effect of "Ain't I so
righteous?" My former boss, a
boomer who celebrated her
50th less than a month after
taking on her current job,
was skilled at inflicting
guilt on one for A) not being
a former '60s radical and B)
still managing to have
thoughts like "justice" and
"freedom"; as if one were
unworthy to work for a boomer
because one were influenced
and not influenced by them.

Despite the fact that all
this modern WWII propaganda is
really "Pay Attention to
Aging Boomers" propaganda, I
do like the other evident
message: The Germans tried to
take over the world by first
promoting an image of
eternal youth and then by
letting the old rich people
send the young poor people
into battle. I'm enjoying the
educational turn currently
evident in Hollywood.

Bill Bailey
<arkouda@doxos.com>

O won't you go home Bill
Bailey? The boomers are many
things - certainly they are
bulimia-inducing as you note
so well - but let's not put
them on the hook for WWII.
Let's just put them on the
hook for being who they
were/are/and [shudder] will
be in a few short years.

Mr. M

 
Fish With Letter Icon
 
Subject: Do
everyone a favor

Shut up. With every noun and
verb you prove how devoid of
redeeming value you are. You
are a fruit with a cynical
peeling and bitter meat all
the way to a rotten core. The
only just punishment for you
is to muddle your way through
life, shouldering your share
of responsibility (though I'm
sure you'll duck out of as
much as possible) and
reaching that level of
maturity that allows you to
reevaluate your certainties
and to confront the
uncomfortable truth that you
have at times been an
arrogant and buffoonish ass.

Dan & Gale Chance
<dgc@mindspring.com>

Dear Dale & Gan,

Enough with the Camus
already! Like I don't know my
life - rightly! justly! - is
all about shouldering unfair
burdens simply because I
committed the sin of just
being born. Like I don't know
I have a buffoonish ass - one
that even Suzanne Somers -
the chick in the T-Bird in
American Graffiti, fer
Chrissakes - can't reshape
through space-age technology
and all the Thigh Masters
currently being produced in
Chinese prisons by guys with
one kidney and stolen corneas
(at least they can buy
dog-fur coats openly there).
Like I don't know I'm a piece
of rotten fruit that's
actually meat with a core
(all on a stick and covered
in batter, I bet).

Hey, let me lay it on the
line: My old man, who
actually hit the beaches in
Normandy and ate hot Nazi
lead liberating the same
shitty continent that his own
parents had left only years
before, fought that good
fight so his kids could be
anything they wanted. I
salute him and give Tom
Brokaw the finger.

Cordially, Mr. M

 
Fish With Letter Icon
 

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