The Fish
for 17 June 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.
Suck Staff

Joey Anuff
Joey Anuff
Editor in Chief


[Tim Cavanaugh]
Tim Cavanaugh
Special Guest Editor


Terry Colon
Terry Colon
Art Director


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


Heather Havrilesky
Heather Havrilesky
Senior Editor


[Ian Connelly]
Ian Connelly
Marketing Manager


[Brian Forsyth]
Brian Forsyth
Production Editor
& Pool Monitor


[Copy Edit]
Erica Gies
Merrill Gillaspy

Copy Editors

Suck Alumni
Suck Alumni Text

Carl Steadman
Carl Steadman


Ana Marie Cox
Ana Marie Cox
Executive Editor


Sean (Duuuuude) Welch
Sean Welch


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

Hit & Run

To Whom It May Concern:

You generally give good
Suck, and today's was no
exception. However, you made
an error. In the cheesy TV movie
about the killer bees, the VW
beetle was not parked in the
New Orleans Superdome. It was
actually in the Astrodome. So

Keep up the good Suck,

Gary Shust

Wrong, wrong, wrong. Here's
location info for the
telemovie The Savage Bees
(1976), courtesy of the
Internet Movie Database:

Filming Locations for Savage
Bees, The
(1976) (TV) New
Orleans, Orleans parish,
Louisiana, USA.

They don't mention the
stadium by name because they
don't want to give away the
ending, but trust me, it's
the Saints who bring down the
bees. The bees knew better
than to mess with Texas.

Bonus points: If anybody
can identify the car involved
in the stunning climax of
this film (which I consider
an underappreciated classic,
Mr. "cheesy TV movie"), well,
I'll be pleasantly surprised.

I may not know much about
killer bees, but on the topic
of killer bee movies, my
expertise is recognized as
the gold standard on several

Yr pal,


Fish With Letter Icon

OK. I'm confused.

Did you actually read
Marilyn's totally delusional,
grotesquely self-promoting
piece before deciding that it
would be "cool" (or was it
"anticool" — it's so hard
to tell nowadays) to
insinuate that he might be
some untapped genius social
theorist? In the interest of
not fanning the flames of my
agitation too vigorously,
I'll only cite three of the
myriad bits of that
hypocritical, narcissistic
jizz rag that got my thong
all bunged.

1. "I choose not to jump into
the media frenzy and defend
myself." (See Rolling Stone
magazine, circulation
approximately 2 million.)

2. "I am the '90s voice of
individuality." (Comment kept
to self.)

3. "Does anyone think the
Civil War was the least bit
civil?" (Wait ... maybe he is
a genius theorist!)

And now, speaking of
hypocrisy, I must take my
leave and go write

Tami Brown, NYC

Are you insinuating that
we're insinuating that Jon
Katz is an untapped genius
social theorist? That's so
anticool, Tami. Katz may well
be a genius, but he's hardly

Yr pal,


Fish With Letter Icon

What a great relief Suck is
from the dull, witless
verbiage that passes for news
and entertainment. Your
writers and artists have an
edge that puts them in a
class all their own. At 38, I
feel like I've finally found
a printed forum as cynical,
intelligent, irreverent,
and fun-loving as my
preferred circle of friends,
to whom, of course, I'm
recommending Suck.

Gary Phillips

Back atcha, Gary. But don't
you think it's high time for
some rag to give up on being
irreverent and instead try
the unusual selling point,
"They're really reverent!"

But that would mean finding
topics worth revering, and
really, how many articles can
you write about Sherman

Yr pal,


Fish With Letter Icon

Happy birthday, I think.

You used to make me laugh,
Polly, but you just depress
me now. Could you try to be
nasty without being bitter
and pathetic and pitiful?

(And they didn't have Clamato
when you were a kid.)

I really do hope you've found
a little solace in your
life. If you really are as
sad and bitter as your
pseudonym ... wow.

Say, I know a guy ... named
Ray On. (No relation to Ny
Lon.) Interested?

Einstein X. Mystery

How do you know when I was a
kid? You must be clairvoyant
as well as being a genius.

Bitter, nasty, pathetic,
pitiful — yes, yes, a
thousand times, yes, baby!
But who said anything
about sad?

Given the regularity with
which unhappy dimwits like
yourself begrudge us happy
geniuses our exceptional
talents, it's no small wonder
that we happy geniuses end up
bitter and nasty. The mistake
your rather limited mind made
was in assuming bitterness
equals sadness.

Cheerfully bitter for a
significant but unspecified
number of years,


Fish With Letter Icon

I'm an insane, smelly drunk
with many failed
relationships to my credit
currently healing my way
through eight years and
US$50,000 worth of Gestalt
therapy, and I still have the
same asshole parents (now
dead) and abusive friends
(not enough dead) I always
did. The only difference is
now I hate myself even more
than I've always hated them.
I guess that's progress. I wish

I'd known about Clamato
juice some 30 years ago.



Robert Rocheleau

Well, you'd have to hate
yourself in order to prefer
hanging out with people you
hate. You all have more in
common that way.

It sounds to me like you
alternately adore and loathe
yourself and your friends, or
you wouldn't be so cheerful
about the situation.

The jury's still out on
Therapy's Practical Benefits,
but keep drinking regardless.


Fish With Letter Icon

Dear Whatever-your-real-name-is,

Cynics are not as bad as you
make them out to be. I can't
think of a better way to be
than cynical. I doubt you
really understand the pain
and confusion it takes to
become cynical. First of all,
hating everyone is just for
beginners. You first want to
bring them into your trust.
Show them that you care about
them and want the best for
them. After you do something
nice for them and they do not
recognize you, then give 'em
both barrels. Show love but
put hate in your heart. Keep
them at arm's length until
they beg for more, then stomp
them with, "I'm not good
enough for you because the
whole fucking world sucks" or
some personal favorites: "My
childhood sucked so now my
life with you will suffer"
and "I can't love you until I
forgive my dead parents."

So you see, W-y-r-n-i, it's
not about tomato juice, it's
about too much masturbation
and not enough tongue time in
high school.


PS Gay men are cool; they're
just a pain in the ass.

PPS You never told me how big
your tits are, damn it.

Did you know your name rhymes
with "grate"?


Fish With Letter Icon


Holy crap, I can't believe
somebody besides me has
been subjected to the torment
of the Tomato Fizz. Of
course, where I come from, it
was called the Tomato Fun. I
am sitting in the corner of
my office cubicle,
overwhelmed with twitchy
emotion at the memories
you've brought flooding back
for me.

And thank you for all these
years of Filler. I can't get
enough of it. What do you
want for your birthday?

Ray Fawkes

Your head on a platter.

No, wait. Money. Send me some
goddamn money.

Twitchy woman,


Fish With Letter Icon

Subject: Your chocolate
plagiarized my peanut butter

On Saturday I made the
"Escape from Bitch Mountain"
joke for the first time, to
much response. So I tried to
use it several times this
week among people who hadn't
heard it the first time. It
really hurts my feelings that
you used it in Wednesday's
Filler, because that means
any future time I want to use
my own joke people will think
I copied you, and that makes
me sad. In the future, can
you please make jokes that I
haven't already made? I don't
have that many jokes, OK?

Your loyal reader,


Dude. Stop stealing my
jokes, dude.


Fish With Letter Icon

Dear Polly,

"Distorted Presumptions" was
brilliant. I've often
wondered why people so
frequently misjudge me,
thinking I'm a snarky, bitter
bastard, when in reality I'm
just a helpful little ray of
sunshine desperate to please.
(Even now, you're probably
reading this and thinking,
"This sarcastic little shit
must really have it in for
me." But I don't! I love you,
man!) Now I know it's their
own stupid preconceptions
that prevent others from
seeing the real me, the
sweet, well-intentioned me.
Screw them.

With Filler, you have your
finger directly on the pulse
of something or other. Your
formidable intellect pierces
through the murky swamps of
the modern mind-set like a
high-speed, data-transmission
line installed for some
reason in backwoods

I was noticing that the
number of glowing,
praise-filled messages
to you that appear in Fish
increases whenever Filler
focuses on your bitterness,
cynicism, and
disillusionment. I'm
wondering if this might be a
form of operant conditioning
that encourages you to focus
on bitterness, cynicism, and
disillusionment even more.
It's as if each time you
receive a we-love-you-Polly
message, a bell rings and a
toaster pastry pops up.

With love,

Brandon Burt

That's why my bitterness
makes me so happy — I get
toaster pastries galore every
time I'm bitter.

Be careful trying to
replicate this process at
home, kids. Those toaster
pastries are highly
flammable. I know at least a
half-dozen toaster pastry
devotees who've nearly burnt
their houses to the ground
heating toaster pastries and
watching Peanuts specials at
the same time. The fucking

Ooo, there's another pastry!
Gotta run!


Fish With Letter Icon

Subject: Chin music

Has anyone else noticed that
Colon's drawings of Polly
seem to show her with an
ever-enlarging double chin?
Is this some sort of nasty,
sub-rosa message to her that
it's time to switch to diet

Ralph Ward

Why don't you mind your own
fucking business, you little —

Ooo, there's another toaster
pastry! Gotta go!


Fish With Letter Icon

 The Shit
Left for Dead in Malaysia, Neil Hamburger, Drag City, 1999
The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium: American Culture on the Brink, Mark Dery, Grove/Atlantic, 1999
Crazy from the Heat, David Lee Roth, Hyperion, 1998
Keep It Like a Secret, Built to Spill, WEA/Warner Brothers, 1999
Abbott's Pizza Company, near the corner of Abbott-Kinney and California, Venice Beach, Los Angeles (delivery hours limited)
Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Pink Floyd, CD remaster, EMI 1994
Motorhead, CD remasters, all
Det Som Engang Var, Burzum, Misanthropy, 1998
Bicentennial Capitol Mall State Park, Nashville, Tennessee
A History of the Modern Fact, Mary Poovey, University of Chicago Press, 1998
V., Thomas Pynchon, HarperCollins Publishers, 1999
The Coffee Mill, Emeq Refaim, Jerusalem, Israel
The Salesman and Bernadette, Vic Chesnutt, Capricorn Records, 1998
Good Morning Spider, Sparklehorse, Cema/Capitol, 1999
Third Floor, Anderson Building, Los Angeles County Museum of Art

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