A beginner's guide to 'Net mythology

Chad Strawderman Arizona Daily Wildcat As if you needed further proof that you shouldn't believe everything that you read (no, not including this. Trust us.), here's a smattering of some of the latest and greatest urban myths making the rounds on the Internet. Of course, you never know...

For some reason, the Net has become the new hotbed for urban legends. There are stories that are harmful, like Tommy Hilfiger making racist comments about African-Americans and Asians, or silly little anecdotes, like the ones that follow.

I began this search with the idea and hope that I would choose obvious legends that could not be true; me, being lucky, picked one that is true and another that is possibly true.

Jan Harold Brunvand, a retired folklore professor at the University of Utah, has published five books on urban folklore and is considered to be the preeminent expert. In past interviews, he has said the origin of urban legends is unknown, but approximatel y 400 stories are roaming the web.

Friends of mine love to send me folklore e-mails. Here are some of the best.

When I first read this, I thought it had to be a clever joke. It's supposed to be an essay written by Hugh Gallagher, who attended New York University. When I spoke to NYU, however, the operator could not find any such person. Nor were there any listings for Gallagher in the NYU World Wide Web site. When I called New York information, I thought that the two Gallaghers would not be the real Hugh Gallagher.

Of course, with my luck, the first person I called turned out to be Hugh! He had sent this essay to Brown and Northwestern universities for "fun and because it seemed like a good thing to do because I had nothing else to say." Although the application wen t out in 1989 (and I received the e-mail in 1996), Gallagher still gets calls about it today. It sort of fits in with his degree: a Bachelor of Fine Arts in dramatic writing. And I did confirm his existence with articles he wrote for Wired magazine and R olling Stone magazine .

Gallagher wrote the following for a college application, which asked him about significant experiences and accomplishments that made Hugh the person he is today. Here is his answer:

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and god-like trombone playing, I can pilot a bicycle up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook 30-minute brownies in 20 minut es. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants.

I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of cha rge. I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Women worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won we ekend passes. Last summer, I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force.

Hugh, you had to mess me up and really exist!!

Probably one of the older stories that roams the web is about the Apollo moon landing and Neil Armstrong. It still lives on, because everyone loves a good fellatio story.

When Apollo Mission Astronaut Neil Armstrong first walked on the moon, he not only gave his famous "One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Mankind" statement, but followed it by several remarks - usual com traffic between him, the other astronauts and Mission Control.

Before he re-entered the lander, he made the enigmatic remark "Good luck, Mr. Gorsky."

Many people at NASA thought it was a casual remark concerning some rival Soviet Cosmonaut. Upon checking, however, there was no Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs.

Over the years, many people have questioned him as to what the "Good luck, Mr. Gorsky" statement meant. On July 5, in Tampa Bay, Fla., while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question to Armstrong.

He finally responded. It seems that Mr. Gorsky had died and so Armstrong felt he could answer the question.

When he was a kid, Neil was playing baseball with his brother in the backyard. His brother hit a fly ball which landed in front of his neighbors' bedroom window. The neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Gorsky.

As he leaned down to pick up the ball, he heard Mrs. Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky, "Oral sex? Oral sex you want? You'll get oral sex when the kid next door walks on the moon!"

According to an article in the February 26, 1996 edition of The Washington Post, however, the incident never occurred. Brian Welch, NASA's news chief, had people go through the old transcripts of the Apollo moon landing and there are absolutely no referen ces to a Mr. Gorsky.

Well, I hope someone got some oral sex out of the moon landing.

One recent story, which is also supposedly to be "absolutely, positively true," arrived to my e-mail last week. I have no idea how to confirm this sordid story, but it makes for good reading. Plus, it has my name in it, so it must be a true story. Becaus e the story was so long, I trimmed the excess.

"Jen," is a junior at University of Colorado, Boulder, majoring in computer science. One day, after her relationship ended with her boyfriend, she was home alone on a Friday night and decided to get onto a sex chat line. While online, she met Jeremy and s tarted to "play" with him. She gave him a false name, "Katie," and started explaining what she would like to do to him with her tongue. He responded by telling her to picture herself naked while his hands ran over her body.

It was cybersex! They both enjoyed themselves and agreed to meet the next night. They continued online for a week, becoming closer each day. By that time, they had become very close, exchanging details of their lives and dreams. Jen, however, felt guilty for never revealing that she was in college, nor giving her real name. Their relationship grew during the year, although they had never met in person nor spoken on the phone. They had done everything sexually possible over the net, just waiting for the da y they would meet.

They finally decided that they wanted to meet each other; they were in love and didn't care about anything else. So, they planned a trip to meet in Vail, Colorado. Jen didn't want the hassle of having to find him, so she said "why don't you just get the r oom and we'll meet in the room, that way there will be no mistake." Jeremy agreed.

Jen showed up at the resort first and checked into the room. She wanted things to be special, so she lit some candles, put on some music, stripped naked and climbed into the bed to surprise Jeremy when he got there. Soon, she heard someone walk in and aro und the corner, and she whispered, "Jeremy?" Jeremy said, "Katie?" "Yes" she said, as he turned on the lights to see Jen on the bed naked before him.

The next thing heard were two bloodcurdling screams. Jen covered herself up, and in her most humiliated voice said,"Dad?" and "Jeremy" said, "JEN!!!"

Now realize this really did happen. Their lives will never be the same.

Thank God that the person ended the story with the caveat or I would never have believed the story.

Another story I am still trying to confirm is about the San Diego FBI. When I first spoke with their media representative, Jan Caldwell, she was curt and short with me. When I called the next week, she told me that she had "no comment" on the story, but w ould forward my name and number to the agent who was involved in the incident. It may not be a true story, but Caldwell didn't refute it, either.

The story is that the FBI conducted a raid on a psychiatric hospital in San Diego, which was under investigation for medical insurance fraud. While there for a few hours, the agents got hungry and tried to order some food. The agent in charge of the inves tigation called to get pizzas delivered.

The following telephone conversation was recorded by the FBI, because they were taping all conversations at the hospital.

FBI Agent: Hello. I would like to order 19 large pizzas and 67 cans of soda.

Pizza Man: And where would you like them delivered?

FBI Agent: We're over at the psychiatric hospital.

Pizza Man: The psychiatric hospital?

FBI Agent: That's right. I'm an FBI Agent.

Pizza Man: You're an FBI Agent?

FBI Agent: That's correct. Just about everybody here is.

Pizza Man: And you're at the psychiatric hospital?

FBI Agent: That's correct. And make sure you don't go through the front doors. We have them locked. You will have to go around to the back to the service entrance to deliver the pizzas.

Pizza Man: And you say you're all FBI Agents?

FBI Agent: That's right. How soon can you have them here?

Pizza Man: And everyone at the psychiatric hospital is an FBI Agent?

FBI Agent: That's right. We've been here all day and we're starving.

Pizza Man: How are you going to pay for all of this?

FBI Agent: I have my checkbook right here.

Pizza Man: And you're all FBI Agents?

FBI Agent: That's right. Everyone here is an FBI Agent. Can you remember to bring the pizzas and sodas to the service entrance in the rear? We have the front doors locked.

Pizza Man: I don't think so.

*Click*

The next time you read that e-mail, realize that it is probably just a story from long ago, about some non-existent person or situation. For example, the Tommy Hilfiger being a racist story is the same rumor about Liz Claiborne from the 1980s.