for 21 October 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.
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Dear Suck, Please tell me about my favorite actor George Clooney! Hi there! I'm surprised you haven't taken the mainstream media to task over the reviews of Three Kings. Many say the film is daring since it chooses to criticize governmental Middle East policy, which much media is afraid to do. But can saying, "We didn't drop enough bombs" really be considered searing criticism of the handling of the Gulf War? I leave it to you folks! Enjoy your zine. Regards, Tom <tom.cmajdalka@intel.com> If you want searing criticism of Middle East policy, you'll have to go with The Clash's video for "Rock the Casbah." Three Kings may not be as profound a political commentary as people want to believe, but it's a pretty good hell-for-leather war movie, and definitely marks George Clooney's arrival as the Bob Crane of his generation. And the guy who tortures Dirk Diggler is a great actor; if you ask me, that guy should win the Mother of all Oscars! BarTel  Hit & Run YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF SELLOUTS. Your bit on AllowanceNET.com is pretty much totally blatant advertising. It's obvious when you see the "Welcome Suck.com Reader" on the top of the AllowanceNET homepage. Don't you realize people read Suck for funny, pessimistic viewpoints, not blatant "click here and give them money" advertising? You should provide a disclaimer — "warning, completely fucking blatant advertising contained below" — before you go posting this !@#$!@#. Henry Koren <henry@epiccycle.com> Good work, Columbo. Everybody else just assumed the welcome message was put up by the people at AllowanceNET once they saw we had written about them. Only you figured out it's all part of an elaborate e-commerce partnership deal in which we insult their product, and in exchange they don't buy an ad. Very bleeding edge, very Net. We both lose a little on every transaction, but we're still hoping to make it up in volume. If only you, Henry Koren, crusading journalist, hadn't blown our cover. Gang (??) @ Suck: We appreciate the attention, BUT you disappoint me. GET IT STRAIGHT!!!! FIRST, we ARE NOT a site that funnels kids with a slice of financial PIE on mum and dad's platinum out into e-com freefall JUST so we can suck off a piece of that action. That business model is just flat-out slimy. And to think that YOU GUYS who seem smarter than the average bears were HIGH-HANDED and CAVALIER enough to ASSUME we were just another slinking carpetbagger in the fray — without ACTUALLY BOTHERING TO FIND OUT. In terms of our launch timing, hey, WE GOT LUCKY. It happens. Who would have known two years ago that this locus of interest would be RIGHT here, RIGHT now. We sure as hell didn't or it would have been MUCH easier to raise our seed funding. SECOND, we don't have mondo Nosey Bear surveys either ... like, at all. The only info we require during sign-up is birthdate/gender/ZIP, and that's so we can deliver tailored content to our users rather than bug them with a bunch of blinking banners ... like the one at the bottom of your frame. We're trying to experiment with doing things sanely, rationally, and respectfully in terms of e-biz. Problem? OTHER POINTS OF CONTENTION ... as for the site's design, blame AOL, 28.8-Kbps modems, and MTV. It's not my cuppa either, but the kids seem to like it. ... as for its "unhipness," blame the baying pack of child advocacy censors who obviously don't have kids, are delusional about kids #&151 usually portrayed by their blind insistence that THEIR little Cubby is a NICE young man when everybody at school knows the Cubster as a TOTAL player #&151 or are in it for the money/notoriety/bullying kicks. ... as for the site's alleged "earnestness," blame me. I think you may have overreacted A TAD, which IS understandable given the kiddie.com feeding frenzy out there right now. On a mega happy note: Intended or not, it does ROCK that our main page GIF (BTW, you guys did a GREAT reduction job!) was right smack at the beginning ... and as if THAT wasn't enough, you also gave us boldface AND a hyperlink. You were TOO good to us! Still friends? Patti <pbrestel@bigchange.com> Hey, all we know is our parents never let us look at the Internet because they're afraid we're going to meet perverts. They won't even give us an allowance. For us it's all walking five miles to school in the snow, rising at dawn to milk the cows, and going door to door for war bond drives. What do we know about credit cards? We're glad you liked the article though, and we're friends 4ever! the Sucksters Filler What the ... ?? Today's Filler was — I shudder to say it, but — almost heartwarming! Compassionate! Dare I say ... endearing!! What the hell's that about?? When I come to read Suck, I don't want anything resembling a warm fuzzy. I want cold, cynical, bitter, nigh-heartless automatons pounding grim rants and uncompromising looks at why Canadians suck. (You're not actually a human being, right? Right?) Look, is something the matter? Can I help? I could steal your car or dump you cruelly or tell Joey you have a crush on him or something. Belittle you to your friends. Kick your cat. Whatever it takes to make sure you stay miserable — I'm there for you. As long as it doesn't involve too much work. I'm kinda lazy. Ben Cochran <bcochran@organic.com> Oh, I assure you it takes very little work to keep me miserable. Just ask my lazy ex-boyfriend. Sorry for warming your heart. Rest assured that was not my intention. Polly Once again Filler has brought cynical cartoon joy into my otherwise dull Wednesday. I thank you and salute your use of the exclamation "Gah!" It makes me think that perhaps you read goats.com and that someday your two sites may merge and form goatsuck.com or suckgoats.com or something similar. Or maybe goatsucker.com or elchupacabra.com, but both of these seem to already be taken. Gah! James Huckaby <james@raveller.com> Goats, huh? Gah, what a weird name. Never seen it. Maybe goats and Suck should be renamed Gah.com. Feeling soooo creative, can you tell? Polly Subject: Sneaky Beaky Club You are a fucking genius. There should be a subscription option to find out only when Filler has been posted. Because, frankly, if I had a dime for every time I've spammed my friends directing them to read your latest work, I'd have at least a couple of bucks left over for an In-N-Out burger. Douglas Coupland has nothing on you. Don't stop. Please ... DON'T STOP. Josh F. <Josholalia@aol.com> I'm sure your friends are thinking exactly the opposite. But please keep Douglas Coupland out of this. Oh, but In-N-Out burgers, they're welcome into any discussion, however wildly inappropriate the subject might seem to some. In-N-Out burgers are closer to me than my closest friends. Which isn't saying much. Double double, mmm. Polly Subject: SNEAKY BEAKY HEART OF DARKNESS Dear Polly, When I was a wee snip of a lad, my siblings and I entered into a similar deal-with-the-devil sort of agreement, albeit I was in the enviable position of being able to dictate terms, an all too infrequent situation when you're the youngest of six. One evening in the golden summer of my eighth year, my brother Steve (12), my sister Kathie (10), and I were walking home after scarfing some burgers and fries at the local Dairy-Ette. In a bid to get home first, thus securing channel-selection rights on our aging Zenith, I cut through a neighbor's unfenced backyard. The owners of the house, the Drinkwaters, had whelped a number of stunningly unpleasant, not to mention malodorous, children, and, seeing me violate their weed-ridden property, shrilly informed me of their intent to call the police on me. Regarding them and their petty threats as little more than the dust beneath my chariot wheels, I continued on my way. Five minutes later, as I enjoyed the exploits of Messrs. James West and Artemus Gordon, my brother and sister ran breathlessly into the house. "John," Steve said, "you've got to hide! They really called the police! They're on their way!" Not knowing the penalty for criminal trespass, and not eager to find out, I heeded their advice, and we all bundled into the closet in the back bedroom. This being the pre-Fox and Jacobs era, it was a narrow space, with barely enough room for the three of us to stand. After what seemed like an eternity, during which visions of two-to-five years of hard time danced through my head, Steve whispered, "Stay here, I'll sneak out and see if they're gone." He turned the old-fashioned glass doorknob, and to our horror, it came off in his hand, leaving only the metal stem poking through the door. "It's OK," he said confidently, "I'll just slip it back on." All he accomplished was to push the stem all the way through. We heard the knob clatter to the floor outside. We stared at each other in the near-total darkness, and after a few seconds, I began to cry, my sister started praying, and Steve kept saying, "Don't panic, just don't panic." "This was all your idea," Kathie blubbered. "Shut up," he snapped, "I'm trying to think." "What was his idea?" I asked through my tears. Despite his efforts to prevent her, Kathie poured out the whole sordid tale. The Drinkwater kids hadn't called the police. It was all just a joke, ha ha. Wasn't it funny? Didn't I think it was funny? Needless to say, I did not. Our mom worked nights and wasn't likely to get home until close to 2 a.m. All too clearly, I could imagine us feebly banging on the door as she walked in, calling out through cracked, parched lips. So could my brother. He entreated me to keep the whole "only a joke" aspect of the affair secret. Even in such dire straits, I saw the potential of this situation. "What'll you give me?" I asked. Protracted negotiations followed, and in the end, they agreed to take all of my chores for the rest of the summer in exchange for my solemn vow of silence. Of course, that was little consolation if we all died horribly while stuck in this tiny closet. Half an hour later, after many frustrating attempts, Steve managed to jimmy the door by sticking his house key into the doorknob hole and gingerly turning it until the latch opened. We spilled out into the room, gulping in huge lungfuls of the sweet air of freedom. The immediate crisis averted, I reminded the others of their obligations, and looked forward to a blissful chore-free summer. After perhaps two weeks, however, my mom got suspicious of their newfound altruism, and wormed the truth of the situation out of Kathie, who she perceived as the weak link in the chain. I was present at this interview and was shocked and disillusioned by my mother's reaction to the whole tawdry tale. She laughed, Polly. She thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Steve and Kathie were off the hook, and I was chastised for trying to extort them. It was then I realized people are no damn good, a universal truth that has permeated and informed every waking moment of my life since that day. Scarred for life, John C. Harvey <fergsboy@airmail.net> Sounds like you learned it the easy way. I learned it when my brother and sister put a pillow case over me and threw me into the closet and locked the door while my parents were away. My mom still has a very sad little appeal to her better judgement, written in crayon, no less, urging her to reconsider her policy of largely ignoring all pleas of abuse by my demon siblings. You got off easy, mister. Damaged, Polly |
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