By Alex Distefano
By Scott Snowden
By Anna Merlan
By Steve Almond
By Jena Ardell
By Jon Campbell
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Tessa Stuart
Like many flame wars, this one began with a compliment. When Brooklyn-based freelance Web designer Terry Baker, who runs a lucid personal home-page journal (www.asan.net/ users/terrapin), got an e-mail accolade from from a Washington state home-page auteur named Alan Moretz about his site back in July, he did not reply. But over the next few months, he received a series of messages, each one increasingly antagonistic, and by last week, Baker could no longer emotionally afford not to respond. The e-mail had turned wildly offensive, taunting the HIV-positive Baker with comments like, ''I'll be above ground and vertical long after your AIDS-ridden carcass has bitten the dust.'' The e-mail sender used pseudonyms and remailers, and routed his missives through Spain to block trace routes, but friends of Baker's used the Web's ''Who Is'' site, a popular e-mail identifier, to trace the mail back to a ''Moretz, Frederick Alan'' at ''polaris@TSCNET.COM''.
On Christmas day, Baker transformed his site--a harbor for his daily reflections about work, music, and survival--into a public tool against ''Moretz,'' and this is where Baker's story begins to have dangerous implications. Baker published all of the messages in a one-page screed online. But by the following day, Baker's own ISP, ASANet, took his entire site down under threat of legal action from Moretz. Moretz claimed Baker's site contained ''unfounded allegations and personal insults'' against him. As ASANet owner Rich Plass argued to Baker, ''A homepage is for you to give information about your personal life....It is not an areas [sic] we permit business or vendettas.'' (Plass did not return repeated phone calls from the Voice.) Baker successfully pleaded with Plass to restore the site, but this time without the page containing the correspondence. At press time, that page is still offline.
It's a curious turn when the victim's rights get quashed to protect the rights of the offender. The jeers and scatological musings (like this classic: ''I just woke up and took a shit and as the tight hot load left my clenching anus I simultaneously imagined episodes of your being rampantly fucked up the ass knees flexing because of your need for the powder [sic] & starved victims of Nazis in Dachau being carted to the fleshpiles....'') are offensive, but bad taste--whether we like it or not--is both a civil right and everywhere online.
The real question is, why did the ISP cave? As the thicket of online civil rights gets thornier, the ISPs, not individuals, are increasingly held legally accountable for their customers' actions, and most can't financially withstand even the slightest liability. ''ISPs are feeling what it's like not to have the common-carrier protection that the phone companies enjoy,'' says Marc Rotenberg, head of the Electronic Privacy Information Center (EPIC). ''No one gets to call up the phone company and say, 'This guy is harassing me,''' and convince them to shut off service. Like a newspaper, ISPs are responsible for the pages they serve up to the Web. Small operations like ASANet (which doesn't even have direct phones--they use an answering service) often decide to act cautiously rather than get slapped with a suit.
This is not the only incident involving Moretz. According to one producer of a personal home page, Moretz's Web site included a reference to his page: ''...it makes me want to punch him in the face. Hard.'' Contacted via e-mail, Moretz had these cryptic words to say about the case: ''An interesting twist: Goliath stones David, and invites the press to lend a hand.'' If only it were that simple. It's more a story of three Davids: Moretz and ASANet itself fumbling recklessly with the idea of justice, and Baker looking for a new ISP.
Contraption IPP,'' designed by artist and engineer Trimpin, looks like a player piano attacking a grand piano--a 600-pound metal device with bows, pluckers, and pegs that snakes inside the ebony lid and rides above and below the strings. With the musician twice removed (Trimpin directs the machine to ''play'' the piano remotely through a Powerbook), the ''Contraption'' takes full disadvantage of the piano's mechanics, fashioning harmonics and percussions far outside the normal range. Like John Cage's ''prepared piano'' stuffed with nails and screws, the sounds it produces are mesmerizing, beautiful abuse. ''I don't want to copy a musician playing an instrument,'' says the Seattle-based Trimpin. ''I want to explore outside the boundaries of what a human can do.''
But is it outside the boundaries of ''music''? With a fervent creative zeal and a casual disregard for musical mores, Trimpin and an array of other innovators in the past 20 years have redrawn the conventional sonic landscape. Armed with ''beepmobiles'' and ''car horn organs,'' these iconoclasts will showcase their spectacular craft work at the free concert series ''Re-inventions: Gravikords, Whirlies and Pyrophones,'' beginning Wednesday night at the World Financial Center. The two-month weekly program features an array of vanguard performers, including a Brian Eno generative music installation (January 27) and an orchestral rave with DJ Spooky (February 11).
Though the artists aren't primarily concerned with computers or software, they're obsessed with interface. Like the countless Web developers slugging away at online design, they're rethinking physical relationships and maneuvers in the realm of soundmaking. The advent of MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) sampling in the early '80s allowed musicians to replicate thousands of instrumental voicings through a synthesizer and radically expanded the range of possible sounds. But despite the exponential increase, Trimpin and others felt constrained by the predominant ''keyboard, piano-style interface.'' ''MIDI is based on typical rock-and-roll needs, so there are a lot of limitations,'' Trimpin says. ''To really explore, you have to design your own instruments, your own interfaces.'' It's as if ''Bill Gates makes all the decisions for me'' on conventional electronic instruments, says Bart Hopkin, editor of the Experimental Musical Instruments journal and a CD-ROM on which the concert series is based. ''With these new instruments, there is no Bill Gates.''