1.4.01
A Whale of a Dick
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No Cure in Sight
Call it Janeane Garofaluenza. The medical community continues its debate as to just how the devastating disease is contracted. However, we do know this much: it strikes low-to-middle-tier celebrities who once held cult figure status among subculture collectives. Once these unfortunate souls are delivered from the pits of underground obscurity into "hey, I know that dude" recognition, the ailment consumes them. At this stage, a dementia of sorts overtakes Garofaluenza victims, leaving them under the delusion that they remain the darling of the anti-commercial crowd that's shrugged them off as so much sellout slime. Ultimate demise comes when Garofaluenza sufferers begin to vocalize their distaste for the very industry that has propelled them to semi-stardom.

It appears that the latest quasi-celeb who's fallen prey to this illness is none other than Mr. Pretension himself, Moby. Yes, the musician who's been dubbed everything from sonic mixologist to Christian vegan is feeling disillusioned. You see, he's worried that modern music is "being corrupted by the interference of multinational companies," according to the January 2001 issue of British music mag, Mojo (Pot, Kettle?). Laments the Spartan-like sage, "It used to be that you started a record company because you loved music. Now record companies are being bought… not out of love of music but to increase their market share and shareholder value. They start manufacturing the music that becomes a commodity - generic disposable pop music." Hey, I feel for the guy. I, too, miss the uncorrupted days of American Bandstand, Sha-Na-Na and Shaun Cassidy. And who could forget Alan Freed? Alas, it ain't like it used to be, Moby, m'friend.

Actually, the rave-rouser should know full well where the boomin' bass meets the bottom line. He's gotta be makin' a pretty penny from his oh-so-innovative album, Play. It is "the first in history to license every track for use in commercials," as noted in the Mojo story. Not including U.S. spots, tunes from the Play LP have graced overseas ads for the Nissan Almera, Rolling Rock, France Telecom and Maxwell House, to name a few. Moby's got his priorities straight, though. Recently he's refused the rights of a Bearnaise sauce company to use his song, Find My Baby. It seems that "it would be hypocritical to endorse products commonly used for garnishing steak." Hmmm... I guess that leaves parsley off Moby's restricted diet.

You know, like Jesus, Moby is just alright with me. After all, his music's got a good beat, and I can hunt to it.

FrankenPuppet
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The Sock is Alive and Kickin'
Have you ever peeled off a workout sock and wondered whether it could stand on its own through the sheer power of its life-affirming stench? Well, wonder no more. There's one sock out there that's become one with the flesh.

He's posed for dolls in his likeness, been memorialized as a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade float, appeared in countless TV commercials and now he's written his memoirs. Although the company with which he was once affiliated is now roadkill on the information superhighway, the Pets.com Sock Puppet, author of Me by Me: The Pets.com Sock Puppet Book, lives on, literally. That's what his human representatives seem to believe anyway.

In fact, as featured in the 12/28 Wired News story, Byron Preiss, the book's publisher assures, "There was a collaboration, but most of this was written by the sock puppet himself. He told us what he wanted in the book." Could it be that Preiss has been fooled by the magical art of ventriloquism? Either that, or all those surplus Pets.com canine kibbles he's been ingesting have caused a mild case of delirium.

Even the puppet's publicist, Sandy Mendelson, is convinced of the mascot's animation. When Wired News requested an interview with the puppet, Mendelson hesitated, "We're not sure that we'll have access to the sock puppet.... He was working with us a few weeks ago, but I'm not sure it would be possible now." Wait a minute. Aren't these publicists supposed to be aware of their clients' whereabouts? For all she knows, the Sock Puppet could be out cavorting with Laetita Casta's Victoria's Secret thigh-highs, or Jenny McCarthy's Candies. I hope he's wearing protection!

Sacred Swish
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The Bishop of Rome's Got a Basketball Jones
The Harlem Globetrotters had gotten themselves in another kooky, Scooby-Doo style mix-up. During this parody on a recent episode of Comedy Central's jaw-dropping raunch-fest, TV Funhouse, the b-ball stars aimed to relive their first Christmas together. So, they hopped into the "way-back machine" only to find themselves at the site of the very first Christmas: Bethlehem, circa 2 BC. Oh happenstance! In no time, the last room at the inn had become the prize in an impromptu game of hoops between Mary and Joseph and the Globetrotters. Even the wee Jesus busted a move or two on the makeshift court.

It all seemed so irreverently silly, this mingling of modern pop-culture with something so sacred and traditional. Yet, perhaps the folks at TV Funhouse weren't so far off the mark. At least, that's what it seems after perusing a recent issue of PR Week. No... the Globetrotters haven't made their acquaintances with Jesus, but they've come as close as the Catholic Church would have one believe. That's right! The Harlem Globetrotters have met the Holy Father himself, the Pope! In the process, John Paul II got the Globetrotter stamp of approval, and the team got some serious ink.

According to the 12/18 PR Week story (Globetrotters play way above the rim in visit with Pope), "five team members and team owner Mannie Jackson presented the Pope with a Globetrotters jersey complete with his name and the number 75." It all started when LA-based PR firm, Lee Solters Company began lobbying the Vatican's American ambassador for a visit with the Supreme Pontiff. Not surprising, it took the Globetrotters reps about a year to get to the top of the Papal Waiting List. Finally, the Prince of Apostles has joined the rag-tag ranks of honorary Globetrotters who include Nelson Mandela, Dr. Henry Kissinger, Bob Hope and even Whoppi Goldberg. Man, in this day and age, you'd think the Globetrotters would be P.C. enough to bestow the honor on at least one woman!

No worries... Vatican City's Sovereign is sure to hold his own with the pros. In fact, anonymous Lowbrow Lowdown sources note that the octogenarian Vicar of Christ has perfected his own dribbling technique, although his is the type that requires a bib.

"When you think about it," comments Lee Solters VP, Jerry Digney, in the article,"it makes a lot of sense. [The Pope] has touched the hearts of young people, as have the Globetrotters." Hey, Solters is right. Maybe the Pope ain't so out-of-touch after all. He knows all the kids'll be diggin' Sunday mass now that the coolest basketball players around have endorsed him. Plus, maybe if we pray hard enough, from now on, when the Pope proceeds down the aisle at mass, the organist will play Sweet Georgia Brown.

Bid Early and Often
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Historical Insignificance
If you haven't found a way to use the recent U.S. election mayhem to enhance your marketing strategies, you simply haven't thought hard enough. Companies hawking anything from pizza to candy bars to cars have resorted to employing recount references to sell their wares. So, it comes as no surprise that Liquidation.com has also succumbed to exploiting an unfortunate situation for its own benefit.

It all started when Liquidation.com's Tom Burton contacted Wisconsin's St. Croix County Clerk, Sue Nelson, with a proposition. As featured on 12/28 in Minnesota's PioneerPlanet.com, until recently, St. Croix County still used "the punch card voting machines that have been at the heart of the Florida debate." Apparently, Burton wondered, since the county plans to use an optical scanner voting system from now on, whether Clerk Nelson would be interested in putting 20 of the punch card machines up for auction on Liquidation.com. According to the PioneerPlanet.com story, Nelson figures, "It was better than throwing them in the garbage. You might say they have historical value."

Am I missing something here? Aren't the true chads of contention holed up somewhere in the Sunshine State, awaiting never-ending scrutiny? What exactly gives the Wisconsin voting machines historical value? I can understand Liquidation.com's thinly veiled attempt to garner some press by selling what the site deems as "The perfect Christmas gift for the person who has everything." The thing is, somehow the Wisconsin machines seem like a lame substitution, like topping crackers with processed cheese food in place of real Wisconsin sharp cheddar, or substituting an electoral college for actual American voters. From the looks of the weak bid turnout, most folks agree.

This Is Your Tax Money.
  This Is Your Tax Money on TV.
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Eat Yer Heart Out, Nancy
Sure, that batch of angel dust so prominently displayed during that episode of your favorite prime-time drama looked pure, but don't be naïve. Chances are, it had the grimy little paws of the U.S. Office of National Drug Control Policy all over it. Now, another Fed faction is stickin' its nose in the stuff.

It seems that, according to the Federal Communications Commission, when ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX and the WB networks pocketed over $20 million of government funds for scripts containing anti-drug messages, they should have notified the viewing public of their influential sponsor, the Office of National Drug Control Policy. As featured in the 12/28 LA Times coverage, although the recent FCC ruling serves as a mere warning and imposes no fine, "it warned the networks about running afoul of the nation's 73-year-old payola laws, which require that any broadcast 'for which money, service, or other valuable consideration' is received 'be announced as paid for' by a named sponsor." Well, c'mon now... how were the networks supposed to know that payola laws apply when the government's involved? Are George Bush and his campaign donors aware of this?

The Office of National Drug Control Policy purchased ad spots, but later "agreed to give up commercial time it had previously bought from the networks in exchange for getting the anti-drug messages incorporated in prime-time programs." The affected shows included Chicago Hope, ER, 7th Heaven and The Drew Carey Show (you know, the show where every scene revolves around harmless beer drinking). It was all part of national drug policy director, Barry R. McCaffrey's plan. Evidently, he figured that the TV script tweaks would constitute as advertising under the five-year, $1 billion anti-drug advertising scheme approved by Congress in 1988. Sadly, the networks saw it the same way.

I feel so violated! If I find out that the Office of National Drug Control Policy had the slightest influence on Andie's ecstasy escapade in the way-cool Dawson's Creek rave episode, I may have to resort to pill poppin' myself!

As far as Robert Thompson, founder of the Center for the Study of Popular Television at Syracuse University in New York is concerned, "The TV networks must feel 'damned if you do and damned if you don't." He contends in the LA Times piece that, "The government is slapping the hands of the networks for doing something that the government asked the networks to do."

Hmmm... I suppose that's one misguided way to look at it. I mean, if ABC jumped off a bridge, does that mean that NBC, CBS, FOX and the WB had to jump, too? They all ought to be ashamed of themselves, the Drug Control Office, the networks, all of them! Of course there should have been a sponsorship disclaimer preceding each druggie drama, but that's beside the point. The distressing thing is that the government seems to have pulled the ol' bait and switch on the networks, and the networks swallowed it, knowing that the integrity of their programming would be greatly compromised.

Plus, the very notion of a bunch of coked-up network execs, diet-pill addicted actors and hash-huffin' boom operators collaborating to present anti-drug message laden episodes is a bit hypocritical, isn't it? If anything, it just goes to show how desperate the anti-drug policy people in Washington are getting. Before we know it, public high school kids will be subjected to regular in-class screenings of Reefer Madness, for chrissakes!