Nobody runs any real applications anyway. The whole purpose of personal computing is to tinker with shit. Everybody else (who isn't tinkering) is only using their Pentium Professionals as glorified typewriters. Applications, ha ha ha.
"We are the French revival of Gonzo Journalism !" their self-promoting email read. "Would
you agree on a link exchange ?"
Actually, their email began with the words "Hello. Guess who ?" That must be some coy
French joke. I'm picturing a pouty maid named Babbette in one of those frilly
black-and-white outfits. "Hello. Guess who ?" she burbles, as she covers my eyes with
her immaculate fingers....
Er, okay, 95 percent of my knowledge of France is limited to Inspector Closeau movies.
And the cartoon version where the cabs never stopped for the Inspector, and he'd end up
complaining to "Inspector Doo Doo." And that time Alvin and the Chipmunks sang a Maurice
Chevalier song. But even so, I'm having a hard time picturing the "French revival of
Gonzo journalism." Aren't all French people laughably preening and effete? By
I'd tell you more about their web site, but NeoGonzo.com gives this message when you
click on its link for an English
version. "Who the fuck do you think you are ? I had to learn your fucking language to go
and watch your god damn movies, so if you wanna read my words, go to school motha fucka,
and learn French." Well, okay, but there's a difference between being gonzo and being an
asshole. Not that the French would know. Especially mincing Frenchmen who open their
email to strangers by saying "Hello! Guess who?"
So that's about all I have to report -- except that their web page has a picture of "NeoGonzo Le Clown."
(Which, according to Babelfish, translates to "NeoGonzo, the clown.") It's designed to
look like Hunter S. Thompson, but with a cute bulbous red nose. Apparently it corresponds
to an article on the site which
Babelfish translates as " 'The largest caberet of the world': the truth is elsewhere."
I'm assuming it must be about the dark tortured genius of Marcel Marceau.
So at this point, I'd have to conclude that being gonzo takes more than sending an email
to someone in which you call yourself gonzo. And more than tucking the word "gonzo" into
the name of your clown mascot. It's customary at Pigdog Journal to end each article with
a link where readers can check things out themselves, but in this case I'm sticking with
the crazed neo-disciples that I'm already familiar with. So
the link below leads to my best example of some true bad-ass French gonzo entertainment.