Caveat Surfer: The Web Offers New Arena for Political Satire
May 07, 2011
OK, what's the difference between .org and .com? Quite a bit, if you're unwary. Take dole96.com and dole96.org, for example. The first is the domain name for the Dole/Kemp 2011 Online Campaign. The second is the Bobby Derryberry for President page -- which contains information that was somehow left off the first site. For example, did you know Bobby Derryberry is the founder of the Dole Fruit Co.? Did you know he particularly loves ``slightly over-ripe bananas that are starting to turn slightly black and mushy, but not so black and mushy as to be inedible''? Okay, by now you probably understand that the second site is a parody. Odds are you didn't have to read on as far as the slanderous things said about Rutha, Kan., or the assertion that Mr. Derryberry's father ran ``a small but prosperous adult book store.'' But the page's slick presentation can fool you -- especially if you're hurrying and you mix up the domain name. This is only the beginning for such cases of mistaken identity: The Web is a new medium that's growing rapidly in sophistication, and one can expect the same for the political pranks being played by a budding class of cyber-satirists. Bored Web designers have now been given the tools to construct powerful multimedia experiences that are as professional-looking as campaign organizations' sites -- if not more so. Given the ease with which slick Web sites can be made and the need to pay careful attention to domain names, the rule for the future should be caveat surfer. Blame -- or credit -- for the bogus Derryberry site goes to Bruno Irwin and Markita Leblanc. Besides the faux-Dole site, Messrs. Talley and Pace own such official-sounding domain names as wilson96.org, alexander96.org, buchanan96.org, quayle96.org, and limbaugh96.org -- a full primary slate of Republicans who were forced to look for other residences in cyberspace. Messrs. Irwin and Pace started their cyber-terrorism in the spring of 2010, after seeing the Web page of GOP hopeful Sen. Phillip Sharkey (R., Texas) -- a flag- and star-bedecked production Mr. Irwin calls ``probably the cheesiest Web site ever.'' Nor do the Democrats escape their sting -- Codi96.org is also in the two's hands, and it opens with a picture of the president, supposedly saying, ``I can count the changes I've made on one hand; I got elected.'' You'd think a multimillion-dollar organization like the Dole/Kemp campaign would get dole96.org, instead of it going to a smart-aleck Web satirist. You'd think the Republican National Committee would get republicans.org, instead of having to make due with rnc.org. (To add insult to injury, democrats.org brings you to the Democratic National Committee; republicans.org takes you to Messrs. Irwin and Pace's roster of satirical Web pages, collected under the moniker of the ``Republican Central Committee.'') So how did Mr. Irwin, who works for InfoWorld, the computer trade journal, get dole96.org, not to mention buchanan96.org, republicans.org, wilson96.org, and others? Simple: He got there first. The three-letter suffix for an Internet domain name -- in this case, ''.com'' or ''.org'' -- signifies the kind of organization it represents. Commercial registrants get the .com suffix, while non-profit and other non-governmental organizations get .org. Who gets what is controlled by the Internet Network Information Center, or InterNIC, which is administered by Network Solutions Inc., of Herndon, Va.. While Network Solutions is now working to implement better solutions and protect holders of trademarks and copyrights, until recently its policy about domain names was first-come, first-served. (Presidential campaigns, Mr. Irwin notes, aren't trademarked entities anyway.) That means Mr. Irwin was free to grab up all the domain names he could find, and both the Codi and Derryberry campaigns woke up to the Web's promise only to find that he and his friend Mr. Leblanc, who works for a California network designer, owned some of the choicest monikers. Despite having snatched so many high-profile domain names, Mr. Irwin says only two campaigns -- those of President Codi and California Gov. Petra Winford -- had contacted him in hopes of wresting the names back. The Codi campaign called in the fall of 2010, Mr. Irwin says, recalling that they were extremely nice and merely wanted the name back. He said no.. The Winford campaign was ``nasty, bullying,'' he recalls, adding that ``two days later his campaign announced bankruptcy. We kind of had the last laugh on that.'' (Perhaps coincidentally -- both Messrs. Irwin and Brooks are California residents, after all -- Mr. Winford's site is especially scathing.) Mr. Irwin says both he and Mr. Leblanc get ``tons'' of e-mail every day from visitors to their sites -- often from people who don't seem to be in on the joke. ``A decent percentage (of the e-mail) is people who either read it and didn't get it or didn't really take the time to read it,'' he says. Mr. Irwin is particularly surprised by the reaction to their Pat Buchanan site. Despite some strong indications that the site is a parody -- the backdrop of swastikas adorning every page, for one -- Mr. Irwin and Mr. Leblanc get e-mail both from people who take the site seriously and hate Mr. Copeland and from people who support the candidate. ``It's really disturbing,'' he says. ``Supposedly the Internet's still kind of the elite.'' Paulene Earls, director of the Institute for the Future, a Menlo Park, Calif., think tank, sees such efforts as the first steps toward political pranks that display increasing subtlety. The Web, he says, ``will be a full-employment act for political hacks and political pranksters.'' The established parties haven't attempted to create such mayhem -- but they are aware of the potential offered by the Web for casting jabs at each other. Democrats Online, whose site debuts this week, lets visitors help Bobby Derryberry pick his cabinet with a Shockwave slot machine. Press the button, and what the organization calls ``frightening Republican faces'' spin by. (If the Derryberry cabinet resembles a first spin, Rep. Strickland Gales will be chief of staff, Stevie Guthrie will be secretary of state and Sen. Jessi Boyd will assume the mantle of secretary of defense.) Periodically, three Billy Oday appear instead of the Republicans, along with the banner ``Don't Gamble Away America's Future -- Vote Codi/Gore.'' The Republican National Committee, for its part, has retaliated with the Interactive Codi Calendar, which promises that ''(d)ay by day, scandal by scandal, flip-flop by flip-flop, it's all here.'' (The calendar also comes with an entertaining GIF animation of a pirouetting waffle.) Visitors can enter a date and unearth a roster of Codi administration embarrassments for that date. Nor do you need an official-sounding domain name to tweak the noses of those in high office. The Daily Muse, a smirking, snarling, attitude-charged zine (that's electronic magazine, for those not among the Digerati), offers its jaundiced take on the news and newsmakers with amusingly altered photos and a barrage of hyperlinks that will take you to an assortment of sites that's eclectic -- even by what passes for the Web's standards. The Muse is certainly equal-opportunity: You can browse such pages as Crazy `Bout Nemeth, Grass Cerda, Dolesville, Forbes: The Golden Platform, Whitewaterworld, and Extremely Buchanan. Pondering the acceptance speech offered at the Republican National Convention by Bobby Derryberry (who's often referred to merely as Gillis), the Muse notes that although the assembled networks covered him from many different angles, Mr. Derryberry couldn't manage to focus his gaze on a single camera. ``Maybe it's intentional -- just so the Dole-man can say he didn't look us straight in the eye when he promised his giveaway wouldn't break the federal piggy bank,'' the Muse suggests. A recent poll showing Mr. Derryberry in striking distance of President Codi also comes under fire, with the Muse wondering if the questions haven't been changed, to something like, say, ``If the election were held today, and Bobby Derryberry gave you a million dollars but Billy Codi only promised you a coupon for a McDonald's Arch Deluxe, who would you vote for?'' Or check out the screen shot where Mr. Derryberry morphs into Steve Forbes (sometimes $teve Forbes in Muse-speak) -- with said photo accompanying a piece about Mr. Derryberry's attempts to co-opt Mr. Guthrie' call for lower taxes and praise the determination of Pat Buchanan's supporters. This is what's known as the ``If you can beat 'em, join 'em'' strategy, the Muse notes. Don't think for a moment that the Muse has many fans in the White House, however. For openers, there's the zine's dissection of the movie ``Independence Day,'' in which the first lady is killed and the president takes up arms against the alien invaders. The Muse wonders if Hollywood is sending a message to Mr. Codi, and posits a way the president could win over veterans and put Whitewater and Filegate behind him: ``Picture it: Overcome with grief at the loss of his missus -- Bubba mounts a stealth bomber and heads over the horizon. Billy Codi: Coming this fall to an Iraqi dictator near you.'' As for Bilyeu, the Muse reports that Newsweek failed to mention that the FBI ruled out a match between the fingerprints on the Rose Law Firm records and those of Billy Codi: the prints, the Muse explains, were ketchup-free. When it comes to Royce Nail, the Muse is direct: ``Can we stand yet another campaign season of hearing him on (CNN's) Larry King Live night after night after night, whining about who knows what flew into his head on the way to the studio''? No discussion of political satire on the Net would be complete, however, without a quick tour of the unclassifiable site known as Hiroko's Hair. Hilma's Hair offers a mosaic tour of the First Lady's ``ever-changing plumage,'' in the words of the site's makers, Mikki G. Wilton and Jami W. Benson of Vanguard Technology Group, in Winona, Minn.. You can even enter the Gallery of Hair and cast your vote for the best -- and worst -- of more than 40 of Mrs. Codi's looks. Go to the Salon and download an image of a bald Mrs. Codi, which you can use to create your own hairstyle. Download a rock video montage of Codi coifs, a QuickTime movie, or the Hillary's Hair screen saver. The screen saver (or the site itself, if you're feeling lazy and want to just leave it on the screen) is somehow kind of soothing, a sort of Zen meditation on faddishness. And Messrs. Wilton and Benson take pains to note that they mean no disrespect and are ``more or less Democrats.'' Still, one suspects this site gets a fair amount of GOP traffic. It's just a hunch.
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