On Monday at a Manhattan screening of We Live in Public, a documentary about Pseudo's late-'90s experiments in 24/7 Internet broadcasting (you can watch the trailer here, a bearded man got up and started ranting about how his obsession with one of Pseudo's programs, Toilet Boys, forced him to seek high-speed Internet access at the local library at 11:30 at night. He then called Harris a "fucking megalomaniac," lept onto the stage, and attacked him.

Physicist Debbie Berebichez said on Twitter that Harris admitted to her after the event that the fight was staged, and his attacker was actually a former partner of his in Pseudo.com. (He's been identified as Robert Galinsky, a former Pseudo.com producer who now coaches would-be reality-TV stars.) Harris has described Pseudo as a piece of "long-form conceptual art." Perhaps it simply hasn't concluded yet?

As Harris likes to point out, the New York Times writer who covered Pseudo's rise and fall was disgraced fabulist Jayson Blair.

The film will appeal to at least three camps: Those for whom Hartnett can do no wrong, anyone who appreciates a "Please, God, give me another bubble before I die" bumper sticker and New Yorkers of a certain age. I can identify on two of the three counts, but still, the film felt like a naked Indiewood appeal for me to consider Hartnett a serious actor. For starters, how did this startup founder know about tight, pegged jeans; skinny, shapeless, twill-cotton sportcoats and "douchebag neck" tees three years before Williamsburg?

A steely-eyed, remorseless David Bowie gives the movie a certain cachet and this appearance by Jason Calacanis as a master booster will also have its draw. But I can't see it crossing any mainstream borders even after building bridges between psychographic camps. I'd give it the early-mover advantage, except a lot of the same territory was already covered better by Groove.