For those in search of an attitude fix...

Robert S. Thau (
Thu, 21 Nov 1996 12:57:48 -0500

A note for people out there who don't much like Suck's descent from
witty, acidic, perceptive rants to witless, corroded, dyspeptic
boilerplate --- you might want to take a second look at the Old Media
version, Time-Warner's acknowledged "Suck" ripoff, the Netly News
(it's on Pathfinder, but there's a quick way in at

Surprisingly, it's apparently a lot freer than the left-coast "New
Media" original to spit in the eye of Da Boss --- for instance, they
did a very frank column on the resignation of their uber-boss, the
formerly estimable Mr. Sagan, saying basically that "we've read the
same stories you have about wanting family time, and we don't much
believe them either". (Compare and contrast to the complete silence
of Suck and Flux on Wired's own non-IPO).

It's also got a flair for satire (at least to my taste) --- for
instance, the recent piece on intellectual property a la SPA, which
took the form of a note from the Comic Publisher's Association
pressuring merchants of "flexible media" (a/k/a Silly Putty) to adopt
a "Code of Conduct" requiring them to regulate their customers' use of
the product for duplication of newspaper strips in violation of

Of course, such things may not be any more to your taste than the
Hunter Thompson pastiche currently running as Comdex coverage:

We were somewhere over Cleveland, on the edge of the Midwest, when
the caffeine took hold. I remember saying something like, "I can
hardly sit still anymore, maybe you should take over..." And
suddenly there was a tremendous roar and the seat in front of me
came crashing down, completely destroying a game of Quake I was
playing on the laptop. All around me sat men and women in cheap
suits, fondling empty tote bags that would soon be filled with swag,
heading for Comdex. And a voice screamed: "Holy Jesus! What are all
these salesmen doing here?"

Then it was quiet again. My tech guy had his shirt off and was
smearing himself with suntan lotion -- he was using something like
an SPF #30 -- to prevent the slightest bit of color from invading
his otherwise squid-white body. "What the hell are you yelling
about?" he muttered, reaching for the call button. "Never mind," I
said, pushing the PowerLite toward him. "You take over." No point
explaining to him about the salesmen and the swag. He'd learn soon