November 1997
s m u g
net worth
by Leslie Harpold


Let's Get Personal

I have a thing for personal homepages of people I wouldn't know - not people i wouldn't be willing to know, just people I wouldn't know if it weren't for the Internet. Programmers, for example. If it weren't for the Internet, face it, we travel in different circles, and I wouldn't know any. Actuaries - same story. Now, since I live in Manhattan, there are a low number of deep south boys here. High number of nut jobs, naturally, but while I avoid those people like the plague in person, the sanitized Internet has me fascinated by them.

Periodically I get obssessed by a homepage. Right now it's two of them.

I can't decide who's pulling my leg more. Mad Dog, curator of Mad Dog's Amazing Nude Homepage" or Sam Sloane, owner of Ishi Press and obsessive homepage creator.

Mad Dog, who's real name is John Booth, has realized, over the last six months that people weren't taking him seriously and got even more carried away, adding things like the "MadDog Misogyny Club" and his "Anything Goes Zone". Now, the page was more fun before Mad Dog caught on, and was offering page design services, (no, not a good idea) and was considerably more candid in his speaking. There was initially more weird stuff - biker granny's strange nude pictures (okay, there's still a few of them). He is now using his web page, as we all do - as a vehicle for self promotion.

Mad Dog hails from West "By God" Virginia, loves every piece of Milwaukee iron that ever left the Harley factory and hates fags and lesbians. He loves Demi Moore though, and has a bathroom sense of humor that often leaves you cold. It's not as much fun as it used to be, which is why I consider it a perfect metaphor for the Internet, but it's still worth checking out. He's gone the Jesco White route - put someone in the media long enough, and eventually they get that slick candy shell going, such as it is.

Just when you're ready to say "What an asshole!" you stumble into his humor column expecting him to elaborate yet again on all the ways he is a self proclaimed "pussy mongrel" you find his humor column, and his plea for syndication, or publication of any sort. Read them, they're not half bad. There you see a different Mad Dog - more accurately, you see the man, John Booth, and not the caricature mad Dog and his very humanly described stories of parenting, marriage, and day to day life. He talks about his teenage daughter's rebellion, and his attempts to read up on being a better partner, and you start to feel for him. He's a real person, with a genuine sensitive side, and a real passion and caring for his family.

He genuinely sees the big picture. He's actually like a lot of the men I grew up around in my middle-class town in the midwest. Look, no matter how much we think it's possible, not everyone is going to be the sensitive enlightened man, but he actually seems to be making an effort while maintaining honesty to his roots, his love of country music and his family. I don't have to dig all his values to like him, at least on the Internet.

Now, Sam Sloane is so not the Mad Dog it's not even funny. It will take you awhile to realize the main focus of his site is actually selling books. He's got issues of a whole other kind. Paranoid, fond of young girls from third world countries, a converted Muslim (his other name is Ismail) prolific as all get out - look for new pages every couple of days, obssessed with chess, once imprisioned in Afghanistan, plays a lot of Go, has a kidnapped daughter and an estranged wife, roommate problems and a soft spot for underaged Thai prostitutes.

Don't miss his screenplay about Japanese sex shows, ken po and chess, with our hero - Sam Sloane. Sam's page is an odyssey not unlike watching a car crash. Once you start reading, you can't stop. Genius or madman? I can't tell, and frankly, who am I to judge? What I do know is the opening line of his page is "In a shocking development, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government has completely banned sex with teenage girls for money." And he used to be president of some political group sex organization in his youth at Berkeley. I don't know what to make of it. I know that it really creeps me out, though. After combing through this site, I'm literally out of words. See if you aren't too.


in the junk drawer:

Ocober 1997
September 1997
August 1997
July 1997
June 1997
May 1997
April 1997
March 1997
February 1997
January 1997

and such
and such

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