Does the same thing happen to simpleton? It does. Early adapters will recall that back in September, we mentioned in passing a potential realignment in the Middle East, in which Syria and Iraq were drawing closer together in an effort to counterbalance a new Israel-Turkey entente. Beginning in October, New York Times foreign policy schoolmarm Thomas L. Friedman wrote a few columns on just that issue.

Did he steal the idea from us? Probably not. I can't make a very good case based on the hits we receive from the NYTimes domain, and anyway Friedman's daily schedule seems to consist mostly of convincing world leaders how much happier they'd be if they just listened to him; it's hard to imagine him having much time to look at the Web. In any event, Friedman is enough of an armchair global economist to know the importance of a value add: Earlier this week, he expanded on the original premise with a domino theory piece about how the Syria-Iraq track is forcing the US and Iran into each others' arms - thus turning the whole issue into a concise tale in which iniquity is vanquished and cooler heads prevail. As if to prove that life imitates hacks, Iranian President Mohammed Khatami now seems to be taking him up on the idea.

We might claim, however, that based on our tribute a couple months ago, and the increasingly inward-looking quality of his columns ever since, Friedman's co-worker William Safire has set his mind to doing a better parody of himself than we can do of him.

More power to him. These borrowings take no money out of our pockets. But what do we say to attempts to co-opt our sellouts? I'm always eager to make a nice product placement (and did anybody else catch the lovely Grand Marnier mention on the New Year's episode of General Hospital?), but how can you sell out when the bigshots are offering their own wares almost free? Marketing veep Jacquie Driscolle was certain our plug for the Archer Daniels Midland company, complete with a lovable Mr. Soybean figure, would be right up Dwayne Andreas' alley:

Imagine our consternation last week, when we saw that David Brinkley has already offered himself up as the Supermarket to the World's newest mascot. And worst of all, Dave's wizened features and trusted news persona make him ten times as lovable as any cartoon character we could craft. Next thing you know, Gorbachev will be shilling Pizza Hut.

But it's the petty theft that really hurts. Back in October, a footnote in simpleton blew the lid off the notion that Jerry Lewis is universally loved in France. No sooner had we said that than a CNN interview with comely French actress Julie Delpy revealed the following:

"It's not true anymore -- people are not Jerry Lewis fans in France. I'm always on the side of Jerry Lewis, even if the French aren't anymore."

Kudos to the dewy-eyed vixen for remaining loyal to The Original Jerk, but you heard it first in simpleton.

Worst of all, sometimes the media bighots borrow our story, and get it wrong! The issue of who is the sexiest man alive was settled early last month in simpleton. Feast your eyes, ladies:

Granted, decisions about who's sexy can be pretty subjective, but who the hell is People magazine to try and foist their own superhunk on us? And who do they think they're kidding when they name Batman George Clooney, who as I understand it is legally considered intellectual property of Time Warner (and thus deemed to be 3/5 of a human being for voting purposes), which owns People? At least with simpleton you're assured there's no corporate gladhandling in these judgments (But Todd, if you're willing to become property of Calzone Inc. we can give you the inside track on future votes. Give us a call.)

(Speaking of sexy, I ran into cyberactivist John Perry Barlow at a recent social event. There, he was, composer of Hell in a Bucket and the Declaration of Cyber Independence, his beard bristling with defiance of convention, surrounded by admirers of the fair sex. Fully expecting him to turn to me and say "Do you know that IF is the middle word in LIFE?" I stood by his side for a few minutes, but the only real pearl of wisdom I caught was:

I can't claim that Barlow has taken me off with that piece of deterministic flapdoodle, but it is a bit strange that right after I chalked up my flirtations with libertinism, Barlow decided to draft a love letter to his own rakish nature. Still, he gets the benefit of the doubt here, since my own homosexual tendencies are not pronounced enough to let me sing the iron durability of my wang with such abandon, or treat the public to my meeting with my Inner Lesbian.)

Finally, there is the matter of making the old new again. From sentimental drunks to wisecracking reporters, nobody breathes new life into hoary cultural icons better than simpleton. Most recently, we've had great success with our picture of the happy-go-lucky Frenchman in sailor shirt and beret:

You'd think this cultural artifact would be abstruse enough to remain locked in the Calzone vaults. But two weeks ago, our own neighborhood freeby, the SF Weekly ran an expose about how California millionaire and gubernatorial hopeful Al Checchi sent a host of Northwest Airlines jobs to France (this strikes me as an ill-advised way to get past your labor problems). Since the article detailed Checchi's connection to La Belle France, the Weekly's designers did what creative people do when asked to express the inexpressible: They came to simpleton:

There's a lesson here: The SF Weekly is just the sort of free rag that we identified above as the bottom of the food chain. Thus we've come full circle, and answered the Chinese riddle: Bottom Feeders need to eat something, and apparently, it's simpleton.

And that's fine with us. We've stolen enough material over the months, and as long as our message is getting out there, we're as happy to be the anvil as the hammer. But we hope you'll be vigilant as you pass through the wide world. Keep an eye peeled for infringements on our intellectual property. You might win a cash prize!

Sincerely,

Russ Goldsmith, Esq.
General Counsel
Calzone Inc.

We promised a director's cut of Reader Mail, and we aim to deliver, but we're short on room. Tomorrow's issue, we promise, will be all Real Mail in readers' real words. In the meantime, tide yourselves over with a particularly entertaining missive from Alan Kornheiser:

Dear simpleton, Subject: Meat you in Kyoto, Moto Sure, yet another cheap anti-soybean joke. Dirty bigoted animal eating... In Japan, where beer is available in vending machines (although the male sex fantasy remains the blonde well equipped for lactation), bean curd gets the respect it deserves. Since (oddly enough since they eat little meat) there is little tradition of vegetarianism in Japan, when Buddhism arrived the monks were forced to invent a meatless cuisine. This cuisine, based on bean curd, still exists in many small country restaurants. One enters, removes one's shoes, sits down on the floor. (The average Japanese kid these days is 6 feet tall, but the Japanese still think of themselves as a small people; the results, for an American who is well prepared for any coming famines, can be a bit uncomfortable.) Graceful women, probably making fun of you behind your back, seat you and bring you saki. Vegetable tempura (actually a Portugese innovation from the 15th century), delicate pickles, all manner of taste treats tease you. Then the big number: a boiling vat of water brought to the table, into which you carefully place your silken bean curd until simmered just right; you net it out, dip it into its sauce (horribly difficult to do with the delicate bean curd, but you manage), and taste. It tastes like nothing at all. Bean curds and hot water. THIS is the speciality of the house? No wonder those monks prayed so hard. They were probably hoping for a pizza. Maybe I'll risk mad sow disease after all. Alan Kornheiser ASKORNHEISER@prodigy.net The Doctor Is Hungry

Dear Alan, As you point out, most Japanese kids are now six feet tall. Just as most American-born Japanese kids are a head taller than their parents. The reason? Burgers, my friend, burgers. And not harvest burgers either. Sincerely, tim