![[dear simpleton]](img/dearsimp.gif)
Feedback
March 18, 1998
New ones Monday through Friday
Reader mail:
Volume 20
![[cashprize]](img/cashprize.gif)
Cash Prizes: Another testimonial
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Dear simpleton,
I know you can't send me a diploma, but the bit reminded me
that I forgot to ackowlege receipt of and thank you for my Cash Prize.
It is a handsome addition to my portfolio of prizes and awards. And I
won't even spend it unless I absolutely have to buy some mints or
something and it is the only cash available.
Did I ever mention that you can spend US dollars in Bermuda? They are
used interchangeably, but there is a very small exchange rate
difference, 4/10ths of a cent, I think, that accrues in various spots
around the Island, particularly in Bankers' wallets.
My car loan, for example, is in Bermuda dollars, but my paycheck is in
US dollars. So every month an ammount of US dollars is transferred from
my checking account to my loan-repayment account, and the loan payment
is executed. For each payment, there is a single penny of Bermuda
dollars left over. When the car is paid off, I will clear 25 Bermuda
cents! Free money! I may buy some mints with it....
--
Robert Ingram
Unix Systems Administrator Transworld Numerics (Bermuda), Ltd.
"There's always some killing you've got to do around the farm." Tom
Waits
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Dear Robert,
Instead of buying mints, maybe you should buy "Garlique!" I don't know if you can
pick it up on Bermuda radio, but AM radio in the US plays commercials for "Garlique!"
featuring spokesman Larry King. Larry goes on and on about "Garlique!" and how it
changed his life, and helped him recover from his heart attack. And best of all, it's
all herbal! It's "Garlique!" And it's funny, cause, you know, if there's one thing I
really do think of when I think of Larry King, it's "Garlique!" I think of thick,
pungent clouds of "Garlique!" emanating from Larry King in a fragrant airstream of
"Garlique!" Maybe that's how you should spend your cash prize.
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![[hergesheimer]](img/hergy.gif)
Far-fetched experimental rose
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Dear simpleton,
The paragraph about Clinton seems purposefully comical, but the one
about Diana is not bad. With work, it might even be good (maybe she
needs a better, more Hergesheimerian editor).
Perhaps it's her height that's unsettling; making her more than just
an acute natural
beauty; like a far-fetched, experimental rose.
I like the far-fetched rose bit, anyway, better than the following one
"(...I myself am exercising the negative option on my subscription)."
Steve McNally
steve.mcnally@prodigy.net
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Dear Steve,
Sincerely,
Tim
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Dear simpleton,
So Hergesheimer is real? I've never heard of him. But I like
the fact that even celebrated authors become so obscure -
the notion that history buries everything is somehow weirdly
exhilarating...
Re: flowery - I actually think both those Tina Brown passages
you quote are kind of good in their ways, or at least
have interesting elements: the Clinton one is really sycophantic
but I like the phrase "avid inclusiveness" and the kind of
fatuous arrogance that the phrase "dares you to join him there" suggests
(but perhaps doesn't intend). And I think "strange overbred plant"
and "far-fetched experimental rose" are incisive descriptions
as well, if somewhat redundant when deployed serially. Maybe
all Brown needs is an editor.
Of course, as you say, there's a very thin line between a distinctive
style and flowery and/or mannered writing. Once when I was went to a
Denis Johnson reading, he started laughing at some particularly
overwraught imagery he'd penned, stopped, looked up at
the audience, and incredulously asked, "Did I really write that?"
G. Beato
gbeato@soundbitten.com
http://www.soundbitten.com
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Dear G.,
I incredulously ask "Did I write that?" every morning when I put simpleton to bed.
Actually, I disgustedly and self-loathingly ask it.
But since it seems to be resolved that Tina Brown needs an editor, how do you get
around the fact that she is the editor? These
vanity columns are a two-edged sword - they
let you write whatever you damn please (and it says something that the Jane Austen of
the magazine industry can only get interested in puff pieces), but they also ensure
that your undigested, last-minute projectile writing goes out before a live audience.
And speaking of undigested projectile writing:
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![[hergesheimer]](img/meat-hen.gif)
Can This Meat Kill You?
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Dear simpleton,
Subject:People are meat! Meat tastes good! Eat more meat!
*disclaimer*
-dont eat people-
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!
anonymous
synthetic@dmv.com
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Dear simpleton,
One day in 1986 the waitress brought me a fairly normal looking New York
strip. I had my ice tea in hand, a friendly woman seated across from me,
and everything was as it should be...until I looked at the steak. It was
sinister! Oh sure, at first I thought it was all in my head, just a
momentary case of the yips. But then I wondered, ' Why, when after
having consumed hundreds of steaks in the course of a lifetime, would I
be alarmed by THIS PARTICULAR STEAK?'. You see, it had to be the meat
and not me, and I'm telling you it was sinister, just laying there
behaving in a regular steaklike fashion, but sinister nonetheless.
My ladyfriend consumed her ribeye with gusto as I poked about in my hash
browns as if looking for a mine, and when asked about my lack of
appetite I muttered something about a medfication I had been taking. So
as not to appear completely nuts I had the waitress wrap the piece of
meat to take out. On the way home I considered giving it to the
neighbor's dog, but, thinking it through, decided that there was no way
the dog would know that it was sinister beef. I deposited my jucy little
parcel in a dumpster at the gas station around the corner from my house,
went home and dined on macaroni and cheese.
Since that day I have never again encountered beef with any where near
the ominous presence as that steak and I continue to enjoy a hearty
filet nearly once a month.
"P.S. Mueller"
psmueller@thetallguy.com
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Dear PS,
Your story eventually had a happy ending. I thought you were going to conclude that
you ended up becoming a vegetarian, then became anemic and lost all your muscle
tone as a result.
It's wise not to eat food whose appearance and presence disturbs you. Just look at egg
drop soup. I've considered all the evidence in your case, and the only logical
explanation is that the the diner was serving
you the flesh of some health inspector they killed after he threatened to shut
the place down.
Since it's a busy, 24-hour diner, they couldn't dispose of the body, so now they're
feeding chopped up bits to their unsuspecting customers. Because of your preternaturally
sensitive pineal gland, you immediately felt the dead man's restless spirit
lurking in the meat. Too bad it wasn't a doner kabob. You would have known what you were
getting into.
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![[falco]](img/leroy-kissmyass.gif)
Little Leroy
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Dear simpleton:
Just how widely circulated were the adventures of Little Leroy
? Because in much the same way that De Palma steals scenes from other
directors without putting in the setup, "Stick Figure Death Theatre"
has taken the standard denouements of LL plots and tricked them up into
snazzy animated GIFs.
As for the possibility of LL's resurrection in The New Yorker
, the plucky fellow deserves a better fate than to be lumped in with
the masses of precociously adult-speaking Upper West Side tykes littering
the pages of that magazine. (A longtime trend that must have something to
do with the fact that most people acquire their New Yorker habit
by picking up copies their parents leave lying around and leaf through them
looking only at the cartoons. Later they go on to peruse the film reviews,
Talk of the Town pieces, finally working their way up, or at least
sideways, to Adam Gopnik's latest puffery. At that point they usually put
the magazine down with eye-rolling disgust and go off in search of
something insightful, like back issues of Highlights . Kids grow
up so fast these days...) Surely the new Spin could find a place
for him, in keeping with its leadership of the anti-South Park
ranks.
Sticking it to the Man,
Sean
PS. Maybe a new episode could feature LL searching for a copy of Styx'
(ha!) Kilroy Was Here , then taking his bad attitude on the road to
ice a twiglike version of Dennis DeYoung. After exhuming him, of course.
It sure would piss these
people off, and maybe lead to another "Wankers of Arabia" type epic,
only in a musical wasteland instead of a real one.
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Dear Sean,
So are simpleton readers feckless dingbats like the meat guy, or are they well-read,
brandy sipping New Yorker fans? I've got to know this stuff about my demographic.
I'm trying to sell ads, you know, but I can't tell whether I should be positioning
myself with the Archie MacPhee catalogue, Versace, or "Garlique!"
Sincerely,
Tim
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![[wankers of arabia]](img/wankad.gif)