Letters to the Editor
Published Letters: 17 Editor's Choice: 2
-
Courtsey Flush
[Read the article: The elephant in the room]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]The Rebublicans needed a courtsey flush to make the war in Iraq smell better. Foley just happened to be the turd that floated to the top. The Dems didn't leak this.
Have you seen the headlines today? Foley. Foley. Hasert. Foley. Oh look! The DOW broke another record! Foley. Oh yeah, and then there's the war.
Foley's Republican pals threw him to the wolves. Hasert hasn't yet figured out that he's dessert.
What suprises me is how quickly Foley resigned. That lets me know that things are far worse than what's been revealed to this point.
-
You Rock
[Read the article: Everything sucks. Plus I'm a legal secretary!]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]Goddamn! I adore you, Cary and all your searing, breathless, long hot love. That was so good for me. Whew!
-
Leonard Nimoy
[Read the article: The sexiest man living!]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]One of my earliest memories is of my mother and her four sisters sitting in our cramped, yellow linoleum kitchen drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and talking about Leonard Nimoy. They debated his ethnicity and decided that with those full lips and that velvet baritone voice that he was colored, like us. They craved Spock's calm, his honesty, his loyalty--so different from the men in their own lives. "He just looks like he smells good," my mother sighed.
This past September, I happily paid an outrageous amount of money to have my picture taken with Mr. Nimoy. At age 75, he's still as beautiful as ever. And talk about star power. You can feel his personality from across the room.
I remembered to breathe when it came my turn to sit next to him for the photo. He does smell really good.
-
Wow
[Read the article: Fox's Ann Coulter 2.0]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]I say this with all of the solemn weight of my 22 years as a mental health professional, as an advocate of victim's rights and as a champion of the femminist process: That bitch is crazy.
-
Geek Love
[Read the article: I'm obsessed with being a hipster]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]"...beauty and the intoxication of cool, the automatic, nonlinear, simultaneous cultural recognition that is an ancient phenomenon of tribalism, or belonging, or religious ecstasy."
Ah. Sweet.
Exactly what I felt when I walked into the Star Trek convention and a pimply guy with spindly arms wearing a stained t-shirt with cut-off sleeves and enormous Bermuda shorts pulled high up on his body grinned at me with chipped brown teeth and flashed me the Vulcan greeting.
I would've fucked him if he didn't have a girlfriend.
-
Oh Baby.
[Read the article: My girlfriend's stepfather is a real a-hole ... and a dying man]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]Cary--
Man, you are my fucking hero.
-
My Favs
[Read the article: Credit check]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]I'm totally dating myself.
Star Trek
Mission Impossible
Sesame Street
The Jetsons
The Flintstones
The Jeffersons
Welcome Back Kotter
WKRP in Cincinnati
Taxi
Camen Rider (Japanese program)
Battlestar Galatica (2003)
Family Guy
Cold Case(hate the show, love the opening credits)
Get Smart
-
Almost Forgot...
[Read the article: Credit check]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]Sanford and Son! Quincy Jones rocks the hizzouse.
-
Pancakes and Scooby-Doo
[Read the article: My Christian daughter says I'm going to hell]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]When I was around 13, I became a Jesus Freak after a beautifully odd week away at church camp. When I got home, I tearfully convinced my hell-bound family that they must start going to church. Every Sunday, I woke everybody up, herded them into the VW van and my dad drove us all to the non-denominational services held at the chapel on the military base where we lived.
My family was pretty good-natured about the whole thing. My siblings were all like, "That's cool." And in a rare instance of good parenting, my mother and father honored my new righteousness and bought me the white leather bible with the gold leaf pages and the quotes from Jesus in red ink(strangely, it also came with a lock and a tiny gold key, like a diary). After church, we'd sometimes go on a long drive with all the windows down and the sunroof open, all of us gazing silently out at the passing scenery, the wind in our faces.
As happy as they were to oblige me, it was still a chore to get everone up and dressed and out in time for church. One Sunday morning, I woke up, rolled over and thought, "Meh." I flipped on the TV and Scooby-Doo was on. My little brother drifted in and plopped down at his spot two feet from the television screen. My father smoked cigarettes while he made pancakes and as usual, got ashes in the syrup. And just like that, it was over.
LW should take Cary's advice. I laid awake many, many nights sobbing into my pillow about how much I would miss my mother when I was in heaven and she was in hell. My terror at my family's imminent damnation was real. But it didn't scar me for life. Ridicule or intolerance would have.
Now, I check the box that says, "Spiritual but not religious". I go to church for weddings and such and after 9/11, I went to the Unitarian church and said a prayer.
I read the bible sometimes. It's great source material for my novel and Psalms and Proverbs and the Song of Solomon are achingly poetic.
I still have the white leather bible. Most of the gilt rubbed off and I'd inked little hearts by the red Jesus words. In the notes sections in the back, under my fervent prayers and dutiful bible study homework is written, "Please, God. Let Michael H. kiss me."