News flash: No one cares how "with it" or "down" you apparently think you are. No one is impressed by the daring bravery you demonstrate by constantly attacking easy targets like "boomers," Joel Selvin, or reunion tours. And no one, absolutely no one, says, "I think I need to be told what's uncool this week. I'll read that oasis of hipness, Riff Raff!"
Why don't you just change the name of the column to "Everything Sucks Except Us & Our Overinflated Sense of Self-Importance"? Ahhh, I get it -- if that became the name, there'd nothing to add to it. It would already be self-explanatory, and then none of the writers could condescend. They wouldn't be able to inform readers, week after week, that the music, art, or what have you they like is cultural nirvana, and that which they don't is senseless drivel for the masses and other unhip groups.
I find the majority of your columns to be self-indulgent, tepid, and irrelevant. Kind of like, oh, I don't know, a reunion tour? What's the matter, Riff Raff? Be-coming that which you hate most? The fact of the matter is, you are more boring and predictable than the "boomers" you seem to loathe.
Your Assistant's Place, or Ours?
Please let your assistant ("Wired for Action," Dog Bites, Nov. 26) inform my assistant where I'll be dining Friday night!
Roberta Jacobs, Consultant
Underworld to Boulware: Good Job!
Jack Boulware's piece on Anton LaVey ("Dancin' With Mr. D," Slap Shots, Nov. 19) was more touching, well-written, and insightful than anything written on him in the dailies. It certainly struck a chord in me. It's unfortunate that the mass media have chosen to write the lies and misrepresentations that they have about Dr. LaVey, and I trust that one day they will reap the rewards of their ignobility. I thank Mr. Boulware for having had the integrity to write such an article, and wish him all the success in the world with his new book. His presence alone makes SF Weekly far better reading than any of the so-called "alternative" tripe polluting the newsstands.
K.S. Anthony, Priest
Church of Satan
Reread the Second Paragraph, Neil
Jack Boulware's cover story "Hemoglobin Goblins" (Oct. 29) did a great disservice to readers by limiting its scope solely to interviews with participants of blood sports. Forgetting for the moment that the story's opening suggested that all enthusiasts of the vampire genre, including readers and role-players of the game Vampire, are "participants in the phenomenon" (I am a writer of [sic] the company that publishes Vampire; I play the game often, but I do not consider myself part of the "phenomenon" of blood sports), I became concerned when I noticed that there was no caveat [about] this dangerous activity.
Blood is a highly suitable medium for a horde of communicable diseases, inside or out of the body. This activity is dangerous not only to participants but to anyone who comes in contact with their blood during a public display. Yet the article treated the topic as if it were some kind of slightly dangerous, titillating topic of no concern and potential spiritual value, like sand-painting or tattooing. Didn't these people hear that there is an AIDS epidemic going on? In searching the article, I cannot even find a mention of the word.
Dissing the Dismissive
I used to rehearse next door to one of the musicians mentioned in your article "The Sound of Noise" (Nov. 12). He, more than anyone I've ever met, fostered a sense of support and community in the musicians around him, regardless of genre. He had a genuine enthusiasm for music and a respect for everyone's self-expression through music. To me, that's what art is all about. Your article was the antithesis of this. It was dismissive; the reporter seemed most concerned about being clever and accepted. I think you did the artists a disservice, and you also did art a disservice.