Just saw Mike Judge's "Office Space" and I have to tell you - it was just all right. It could meld with "Clockwatchers" to make one really good, bloodlessly accurate film about the stinky wickedness of office work, as if the world needed such an animal.

Frankly, I think Hollywood's barking up the wrong cubicle. The would-be maniacal dilettantes of Department Lemur have discussed this black and blue, and we honestly believe that a movie based in the cutthroat, impossibly sexy world of Web design could outdraw any Dreamworks release two to one. One need look no farther than Lemur's hallowed halls to find all the elements of an action-packed, lusty entertainment: the webmaster who dreams of doubling as a professional wrestler, the glamorous and deadly assistant content developer and the wisecracking slacker types. Of course we're photogenic; you have to ask?
 

"I remember the book depository, where they crowned the king of Cuba," goes They Might Be Giant's peppy ode to carpeting, "Purple Toupee." Conspire.com remembers that event and then some; it keeps tabs on every conspiracy, public-fed prevarication and crackpot ditty to raise its homely head since "the launch of this Web site in 1957 (on a monstrous UNIVAC that dad installed in the den)." It's all here, kids - Clinton's dangly bits, the Bill Gates android, the meat-packing shop at Roswell and a made-over, Armani-slick Unabomber - and delivered with a genuine wit that makes it all not only readable, but tastier than candy-coated cattle mutilations. Created by the hive mind that brought you "60 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time" (as seen on TV's "The X-Files"), this is a site to be bookmarked and scrutinized down to its minutiae. At the very least, don't leave this site without hearing the audio "warning" given by Christian comic artist Jack Chick. Better be careful what you say about the Vatican. They've got trucks, you know.
 

If you've ever wondered how an evolved taste for the cinema is formed (if your favorite film is "Independence Day," you likely haven't; skip this paragraph) a visit to Jeeem's CinePad is in order. I don't necessarily agree with all of film critic Jim Emerson's conclusions regarding the art form, but I love the road he takes to get to them - beginning low and arching ever so slightly upward. He bows to all the right iconoclasts - Buster Keaton, the brothers Coen - and delivers a right snappy knockout punch to Oliver Stone, which is the fast way to make me your friend. More importantly, the CinePad will get you thinking about why a certain film appeals to you, why certain shadows hang over you forever, why style vs. substance isn't always a war that needs to be fought. The CinePad approaches film the way it should be approached: through its plumbing. Visit this site and you, too, will feel flush.
 

By the time you read this, Tank Girl will be gone. Once the hottest property in alt.comix - with entities as disparate as The Ramones and British Vogue singing the book's praises - TG creators Jamie Hewlett and Alan Martin thought global domination was imminent, but a 1995 film adaptation proved them wrong. Critical consensus ranged from A to Z, skipping all other letters; business stalled at $6.6 million worldwide; the comic ceased publication soon thereafter. (In a recent interview with the London Independent, Comics 99 festival organizer said, "A fundamental problem with many comic strip characters is that they look good on the page, but when you try and dress people up in those clothes they can look frankly ludicrous." He was speaking of "Batman and Robin" -this year surpassing "Howard the Duck" as the worst comic adaptation of all time - but you get the idea.) Still, the Girl's spirit is indominatable, and if I have to take one footnote away from the early 90's, Hewlett and Martin's creation would be it. This unofficial site follows her short, bright burn with genuine love; she deserves nothing less. Strangely enough, the same movie that killed the comic's momentum now seems to be preserving its memory: I found this fabulous page through MGM/UA's official site - still active due to the film's steadily growing cult following.
 

Frank H. Jump's Fading Ad Campaign is one of those surprising web cul-de-sacs - damn if you know how you got there, and you're in no hurry to get out. Jump, a New York-based hyphenate who has been HIV positive since 1984, doesn't make an overt statement with his photographs of New York's fading advertisements, but one need only glance through his hazy window into the early century to feel the pride of these sentinels. They have "outlived their expected life span" to a significant degree, says Jump, and as such are a "metaphor for survival." True, but they are a metaphor for the curious dignity inherent to aging and decay - flowing out of our ugly reality and into our hearts and imaginations like old friends, now departed. Exquisite.

We are ready to drink deeply of the limelight. "The Phantom Menace?" We'll kick its ass. Messers Spielberg, Geffen and Katzenberg - our lines are now open. Make us an offer.