Actually, we prefer the Hicks bit about a masturbating woman in a Coke ad: I'm not sure what the point of the recent puff piece on "commercial ethnography" was ("Real to Reel," March 16), except perhaps to make the folks working at ad agencies feel good about their evil work.
I at least got a few good laughs when Claudine Murphy of Goodby, Silverstein said, "We respect the kind of people we are making advertisements for," and when the article [talked] about the need for keeping it "real."
There's nothing "real" or necessary about advertising. Advertising is all about making people think they need something they don't and selling it to them. If people really need or want something, they don't need an advertisement to tell them that they want it, or how to get it.
As the late, great Bill Hicks said, "If anyone is in advertising or marketing, kill yourself ... There's no rationalization for what you do ... You are Satan's spawn filling the world with bile and garbage."
Now that, I'd buy.
Via the Internet
They like me; they really, really like me: "But it struck me as more socially useful to print the hate mail, on the theory that decent people can't protect themselves if they don't know the details of the evil that lives alongside them" (Letters and the Editor, March 9).
Welllll now, Liberace, not even half so evil as that filthy, fudge-packin' 1 percent of the population responsible for introducing hundreds of thousands of innocent Americans to the exotic joys of Kaposi's sarcoma, uncontrollable diarrhea, and slow, agonizing death.
Ya see, Lee, as a public-minded citizen, I think it's important for decent people to know these details so that they can protect themselves from the predatory-but-self-righteous hairdressers and interior decorators that prance among them.
Ridiculous, egregious, silly, cheap, pandering, fatally flawed, contemptible, atrocious, and downright ... low: John Mecklin's ridiculous comments praising Harmon Leon wins this quarter's prize for the most egregious self-serving bilge dished up. There was nothing in the least "courageous" about Leon's carrying the PC coals to Newcastle. This silly "exposé," like the previous ones infiltrating anti-abortion and other rightist groups, are simply the cheapest form of pandering to your predictable and predictably boring liberal readership. Leon's premise that there is no legitimate reaction to black or Jewish racism is fatally flawed at the core. If he wanted to do a piece on the rampant black racism in the Oakland-Berkeley area and/or the racist nature of some of the basic laws in Israel -- that would be both courageous and enlightening. But just to recycle the old "Whitey is to blame" garbage is neither.
Mecklin's attempt to exploit the tragic murders in Chicago in order to justify this nonstory is contemptible. Frankly, this is one of the lowest points for SF Weekly since your atrocious Art Institute story a few years back. You might have to start distributing your paper in plain brown wrappers with a warning label.
As far as your vast readership in the Deep South goes, even with their crudity they were still much less profane than your regular letter writers.
Capt. Renault strikes again: After a six-month-long campaign of bad-mouthing the staff, denigrating the mission and effectiveness of, and generally running down Mission Housing, Matt Smith is shocked, just shocked, to find that City Hall is talking about cutting its funding ("The Daly Show," Feb. 23). Words have consequences. You would think a journalist would know that, but it appears Matt is just finding that out.
On the crap that one whiskey drinker likes: Dear SF Assy: Earlier tonight I wrote a you morons a letter lashing out at that guy who penned the white power infiltration article ("My Dinner at Applebee's With White Supremacists!," Feb. 23). I wrote it from a hostile but also Jewish perspective. I am pretty sure you guys will print it because it was a damn good letter, even though I think I sent it to the wrong address. So I just want to let you know, I don't really take stacks of your magazine and throw them in the trash on the way to work, as I claimed in my earlier dispatch. Actually, I kind of like your rag, though it's crap. The truth is, I was drunk earlier tonight -- again.
This time it was whiskey, but what difference does it really make? So please print this letter along with the earlier one so people don't think I'm some kind of prick. By the way, you are probably wondering by now how you can get me to write for your pathetic newspaper. The answer is really quite simple: money, honey.
And, simply, "You're welcome": Thank you for the article on gay rights in Nepal. The article really touched me ("Gay Rights in High Places," March 16). Ms. Hegranes' reporting was thorough and moving. Can you please provide me with information on how to donate money to the Blue Diamond Society?
Via the Internet
Editor's note: The society's main Web address is www.bds.org.np.