Letters to the Editor

World's largest floating metaphor: The reason Sen. Feinstein is having problems berthing the USS Iowa in San Francisco is that she doesn't know how to talk to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. She doesn't "speak their language," so to speak.

This is what DiFi needs to do: Offer to paint the ship yellow and promise to put large studded condoms on each of the barrels of its 16-inch guns so that the battleship will, in effect, become the world's largest bathtub sex toy.

Do what I suggest, and the S.F. Supes will roll out the old pink carpet faster than you can say "Hello, thay'ler!!" (As in the guy who wrote the history of sea power — ha, ha, ha).

Better yet, why doesn't Sen. DiFi offer to berth the ship in Oakland? It's the far better choice. Since the ship's already gray, all you need to do is paint the Oakland Raiders pirate logo on it, and bam, you have the world's largest gangbanger/dope dealer attraction (pleasing those S.F. residents who despise all things sports- or military-related).

So how do you advertise it? Get Jazy-J or 50 cents [sic] to hold a rap concert in front of it and put up a big banner proclaiming: "Nine millimeters? Please, this be Oaktown — we packin' sixteens, not nines — and that's inches, not millimeters!"

Any other problems you need fixed, just drop me a line.

Michael C. Goncalves Elk Grove, CA

Funny force: Nobody disputes that the video was supposed to be funny or that some people find it funny ["Image Problem," Jan. 5]. I think the bumper sticker "God was my copilot until we crashed and I ate him" is f—kin' hilarious, but if I were a cop, I wouldn't put one on my black-and-white.

The officers were unprofessional and got slapped down. Like every disciplined employee, they think the boss got it all wrong. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now that they're done making SFPD look like a bunch of jerks, they've switched over to portraying cops as whiners. They aren't getting it. Fong should keep them at the shredder until they do.

Chris Wilson

Oakland

Painting from the pokey: William Noguera may be a very talented artist working under extreme conditions ["Pen & Ink," Dec. 27]. Producing this art may have affected some profound change in him, and his art may be worthy of some critical acclaim. But it's clear from his first words in your article that whatever new sense of self his art has given him, it has not led him to a place where he can take responsibility for his crime.

"Somebody got killed," he says, and "I was under the influence of anabolic steroids ... " and finally, "I'm very sorry it happened."

These are classic indicators of a person refusing to accept the fact that they murdered someone. If he had said, "I killed somebody" and "I'm sorry I killed them," then I might have a bit more compassion for Mr. Noguera.

Until then, I'm fine with his art reaching a wider audience, as long as his only art studio continues to be his 4'-by-10' cell.

M. Jerome

San Francisco

Poorly spoken: I am writing in response to the article about the Institute for Unpopular Culture and its representation of artist William Noguera. I had no idea I was being included in this article, nor that I had a spokesperson at the Institute, which would explain why so much of what was stated about me was inaccurate.

I was affiliated with IFUC at the time of this article, and formed that association when, as a self-taught artist, I was seeking guidance and networking in a town where much of the art culture is centered on its prominent art schools. IFUC has been very helpful to me, introducing me to other artists for invaluable partnerships, exhibit opportunities, and support. Being an artist nobody else will touch, mentally unstable, condemned, or socially dysfunctional were not membership requirements at that time, and I do not feel that the representation of my work in this context is right.

The series of paintings referenced in this article, Myth & the Divine Feminine: History, Religion & Politics, could be considered outsider art for two reasons: They are done in an out-of-fashion romantic style, and they address religion.

I made a considered choice for these paintings not to be flip, offensive, or controversial for the sake of controversy, but rather to attempt to combine symbolic content in pieces sufficiently beautiful to evoke contemplation — as religious art does. My goal was to get people to think about where these recognized images come from and how they relate to previous religious traditions, which have passed on for political reasons (as much of history is essentially achieved through politics), and to think hard enough that they would want to talk about it, and to place the work in locations that would allow for that conversation.

In this era where religion is so central to a number of conflicts, these paintings were made to evoke consideration of the effect of religion when it produces assumptions that are habitual and unquestioned, and sometimes, along with all that is good and uplifting, prejudicial. The works shown in Oaxaca focused largely on assumptions about women's roles; current work, the Iraqiand 9/11 Pietàs, focuses on tragic loss through violent political action.