I've read and enjoyed "Scissors." The narration seemed like the work of a precocious adolescent, which was entirely appropriate for a coming-of-age memoir. I was taken aback, however, by the hostility of Jain's piece. Criticism is one thing, but this sort of scathing attack would be better aimed at terrorists and child molesters. This article made me wonder far more about Jain's pathology than Burroughs.

I've set Salon to appear automatically on every computer I access the web from; it's literally and figuratively my online home. It's a gift I give myself and good friends without reservation, and a place where I know I'm not alone. Living in a small town in Oklahoma, it's easy to believe one's a blue outcast in a red world. Then, as surely as sunrise, Salon feeds me intellectual and conscientious manna.

I love Calvin Trillen, too, and thank you Rebecca Traister for giving me the heads-up that I need to read this article. In a busy life, The New Yorker is often one of those magazines that hit the trash before the cover has been opened. I will definitely be reading it this week, thanks to your touching reflections.

I sure would hate to be so heavily scrutinized my first night on a new job. Sure, I'll never make as much money in my lifetime as Couric does in one year, but should the size of her paycheck deny her the chance to get comfortable in her new gig? Can't we at least wait a week before eviscerating her and CBS's efforts at FINALLY bringing us the evening news from a non-paternalistic POV? It wasn't that bad, and admit it, you didn't change the channel when they showed the photos of Suri Cruise.

Perhaps it's not considered fashionable, but I like Katie Couric, and I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Only time will tell if she has the "gravitas/cojones" or whatever the buzz word du jour is to make a successful transition to the evening news. I wish her well. And, if she proves to be too distracting -- i.e. what's she doing to her hair? why is she wearing that shirt? etc. -- where I can't hear what she's saying because everything else about her is just too loud, then it's back to Brian Williams...

I disagree mightily with a couple of things Farhad said. First, it's not just the famous and the wannabes who lust for all things Apple/Mac related. I am a 37 year old stay-at-home mother of two and wife of one. I am not famous, and -- believe it or not -- I have no desire to be famous. I had a first generation IPod, an IBook, and I'm now on my second IMac (which my loving husband surprised me with for Christmas. Fellows, listen up -- THAT is the only thing sexier than doing the dishes without being asked). I've never had an Apple product crash. Ever.

Up until this moment, I couldn't have cared less what cell phone I carried, and I have avoided Blackberrys and other PDAs because they wouldn't interface with my Mail or iCalendar programs. But now...!

Steve Jobs, may you live forever.

I think all of us who aren't in a substantially similar position to Ashley's family should probably reserve judgment and just thank our personal God that we've been spared that particular heartache. When I first heard this story, I, too, was a bit horrified. Then I followed a link to their website and came to the conclusion that they love their daughter and are trying their best under awful circumstances. So they call her their "Pillow Angel." Would you have selected the same pet name? Probably not, but so what? You may call your children names that I wouldn't call mine. Lucky for you such details about your family's life haven't been exposed to the world for ridicule. This family -- and Ashley -- deserve dignity and respect, like the rest of us. They are trying to do the best they can in an inconceivably difficult situation. Just as the doctors at the hospital that approved the "Ashley Treatment" were. In a perfect world, there would be no need for such a treatment.

Instead of throwing salt at this wounded family, try to understand what they are dealing with and where they are coming from. Then go kiss your "perfect" children goodnight, or feed your cat, or drink a beer. Your careless comments aren't interesting or helpful.

Finally, a thoughtful examination of the strange phenomenon that was Anna Nicole Smith and our society's rubber-necking contribution to it. She was a gorgeous train-wreck -- the all-American girl supersized in everyway. A recent media report stated that a vast majority of the current youth list fame as their greatest desire. We could hope that Anna Nicole -- and the Paris/Nicoles that are following in her footsteps -- might be a cautionary tale for the generation we're raising. But until we as a country start paying more attention to persons of substance over those of mere form, this is the version of Cinderella to which we are subscribing.