"Before, when I [wrote the essay about] how I'd slapped Sam, I was kind of prepared for that, because I don't like slapping children stories much."

And still, Lamott has no glimpse into why she was wrong to slap her son (who she named)- then write about it in a column read by thousands on the internet.

It's just another way she can achieve 'grace' or improve herself spiritually through suffering.

I suppose that column will go into the book to be read by yet more thousands as an example of Lamott's Christ-like endurance.

I'm glad I contributed to the criticism of Lamott's slapping article. In some small way I hope it led to Lamott's departure from Salon's pages.

All the wrinkly hags and eunuchs who worship at the altar of Anne Lamott do so out of utter, complete self-absorption. That's what wittering on about "faith" is, in the end of the day -- it's an excuse to pretend the universe revolves around you. When the people seeking the affirmation and ego-massaging are already the most self-absorbed, whiny, high-maintenance people on the planet -- aging urban boomers -- the results are agonising. The crooning adoration for this talentless fraud surpasses anything from the worst Cary Tennis wankfest.

Anne Lamott's stupid fundy born-again Jesus-loves-me maundering coupled with her Berkeley mom dreadlocked act makes her one of the worst people in the world, an ideal candidate for the other wrinkly Berkeley moms to fawn over as they write inspirational thoughts in their journals. There's nothing more shallow than thinking you're deep because some vacuous twit indulges your appalling narcissism.

You will spoon up the vomitous pabulum of self-helpers, Jesus freaks and loonies now more than ever as your backs start to give out and your throats start to wattle.

I love Anne Lamott's writing, and I miss her on Salon.

Why do these people keep reading Anne's writing when they hate her so?

I am not a wrinkly hag, nor a eunuch. I am not born-again or Christian.

Just a midwestern, Jewish male in his forties who loves Anne's writing.

I can see why Anne Lamott appeals and why she infuriates people. Her writing style is too neat and sentimental and she mines her life for events that illustrate her often soaringly sentimental insights. She also relates the experience of her mind with a lot of detail, which makes her a target for the label of navel-gazer, and worse. But the truth is that she is very good at relating the truth of how the mind works. All the envy and greed and fear and love--we all rotate through these thoughts and feelings and very few people relate the experience of living with a human mind with her humor and honesty. She also doesn't shy away from relating the truth of her bad behavior. And I am puzzled by those who rush to condemn her behavior. (Publishing about her family is a different matter.) If everyone was as well-behaved in their homes as the letters chastising her imply, then we would have a very different world. The truth, which she repeats in almost every piece of writing, is that everyone is damaged and badly-behaved to some degree. That's where forgiveness and her brand of Christian faith come in. I think there are other, more worthy targets for the sharp pens of Salon readers.

What's with the "wrinkly"? Is aging some sort of sin?

Anne, you're OK. I was surprised that I liked you because for years I rejected the idea of you. I had read bits of your essays and certain friends of mine who sang your praises were the friends of mine who sang everyone's praises and loved bad movies and every flavor-of-the-month novel so I was suspicious.

Then I read Operating Instructions (me childless and hating that whole uber mom subculture in many ways) and I found my self laughing my ass off and connecting with your words. Bird by Bird was even better. I didn't want to like you, honest--all that Jesusy, dreadlocky, navel gazey stuff, but I do appreciate your writing. I don't like your sloppy novels as much but you're still OK by me.

I saw you speak once and my only critique would be that you lacked some confidence in your delivery and by now, woman, you deserve to walk into a crowded auditorium with your head held much higher and you are allowed much more conviction in your tone.

I'm curious how other people live--yes, I'm weak and nosy that way. Thanks Anne, for opening yourself up. It's enlightening and you make it so damn funny sometimes. You're a good writer. I have appreciated your voice; I have related to your imperfections.

There's nothing that brings out the wild dog pack of self-congratulatory, hateful, I'm-so-much-more-evolved-than-you-spiritual-idiots (like Ben) than someone writing anything heartfelt about Christianity, especially someone as nakedly self-referential as Annie.

As a professional writer, I sometimes find her maudlin and whiny, but more often I find her honest and dead-on with her perceptions of the insecurities and terrors that sit cheek by jowl with the joys and wonders of everyday life.

Haters, hate on with your "anything spiritual is delusional twaddle" invective. You only make yourselves look like fools. True voices like Ms. Lamott's are rare treasures. Could it be that you wish you could write 1/10 as well as she, and knowing that you lack the intellect or talent, you fall back on bile as your only alternative?

Oh, come on. Get real. Is she at the same level as as serial killers,rapists, Ken Lay, Richard Allan Davis, Scott Peterson, and God knows who else?

No wonder Lamott doesn't write for Salon anymore. Some people take themselves way too seriously.

It's starting already with the hateful "ethical" people who worship and the feet of...what? The mummified corpse of H.L. Mencken?

Why would an essentially good and kind yet eminently human creature like Anne Lamott even bother to grace the pages of Salon, knowing as she does that so much of its readership is composed of spiritually dead human barnacles? So bring it on, and gimme some too, just because I love this woman, I feel her, I know what's up with her, and so tell me I don't belong here either, as I am more interested in honor, kindness, a quiet, normal life (a la Warren Zevon, it's true) and, yes, grace. Have a little, for chrissake. Or just validate the hate. It doesn't really matter.

Grace. There, I said it again. The fulminant hatred of simple humanity that follows Ms. Lamott apalls me, and that really takes some doing.

By the way, Ann, July 14 absolutely works for me, because it is the day my insane hillbilly family has chosen to hold its annual reunions. This is a testament to the transformative power of grace and the refusal to give up and join the pathetic, faux liberal flagellants as we grow and maybe even evolve a little.

The article reminds me of the words of a fellow who ran a Gurdjief commune out west some years ago: "I look this way because I've been living."

Carry on.