for 7 August 1998. Updated every WEEKDAY.

It was good to see something
heartfelt in Suck for a
change. Often, the snide,
facile cascade of
self-referential irony can
wear a bit thin in the mag,
but writing like yours
provides a fine counterpoint.
Keep it up.

P. S. Mueller
<psmueller@thetallguy.com>

That snide, facile cascade of
self-referential irony got us
through adolescence,
marriage, a series of bad
jobs, and no end of
depressing encounters with
the cultural Zeitgeist, plus a
nasty touch of food poisoning
once after some bad
shellfish. Let's not knock
it, huh?

Self-referentially ironic,

Ambrose Beers

Dear Ambrose,

No can agree with the last
piece. Sure, the Killigan
doll is junk, and selling
processed food, possible
cause of a cancer epidemic, in
the way you described is
justification to kill your
television. Personal loss is
another matter. Have found
that two things matter: other
human beings paying attention
to you and your own personal
version of acceptance. Just
so you know - during my 30s,
I lost all the friends I made
in my 20s. AIDS, ya know. As
I was losing them, I was
instinctively replacing them.
Lost most of the
replacements, too. Have
learned much about loss. Our
culture is supremely inept in
the matter and fails to
teach our journalists about
loss, or holding on to each
other or letting go of the
lost. There are a lot of
false healing programs out
there. Poetry isn't one of
them. Telephone calls aren't
either.

Sincerely,

Jack Garman
<jackgrmn@cruzio.com>

But I'm not talking about
poetry per se - I'm talking
about poetry built on empty
and too-easy sentimentality:
"It's for the best that your
children died!" "Think happy
thoughts!" There's a very
wide gap between this kind of
poetry and, say, Auden's
demand that the clocks be
stopped. Our culture is
supremely inept in loss, I
agree; we think it's easy to
sort of tighten the bolts,
slurp a little chicken soup
into the soul, and get the
machine up and running again.
Which, to me, goes to the
reality of American ambition,
of what we most want: Our
ambition isn't ambition to, but
ambition from; we don't want
pleasure or wholeness as much
as we want to not be
uncomfortable or
inconvenienced. So what I was
trying to say here, whether
or not I succeeded, is that
all of this pop-psych,
one-easy-step-to-healing
nonsense is too glib, that
we're trying to have the fast-
food equivalent of balance
and wellness.

hooked on phonics,

Ambrose Beers

Subject: your lyrics

Those are pretty funny.

I like G. Paltrow, though.

I'd like to have sex with her
- how about you?

Anyway, good page you've got
going here.

<Joe43790@aol.com>

Thanks for the compliments.
It's good to know we've still
got some thoughtful,
intelligent readers out there
somewhere.

A. B.

A Not-So-Short Story About
Creativity

Once upon a time, I was
looking for a place to live.
Answering Housing to Share
ads in the Washington City
Paper eventually landed me in
a restored townhouse on 7th
Street SE, near the old
market and a short walk from
the Capitol. But not before I
met Dr. G. and his earnest,
unbathed,
Birkenstock-and-black-
turtleneck-clad "intern."
They were operating an
"artists commune" up on 16th
Street NW, attempting to
surround themselves with as
many such people as possible.
Recordings of my electronic
music and a copy of one of my
screenplays fascinated them,
my independent discovery of
the oil-supply curve back in
1981 convinced them that I
had it - that thing they
wanted so badly to understand
and call their own:
creativity. Yes, the nature
of creativity, what it is,
how to measure it, and above
all, how to get some, this
quest drove Dr. G. and his
sidekick day and night, like
Quixote and Panza looking for
dragons. After an intense
interview, with a three-page
questionnaire no less, I got
invited to dine with the
group (vegetarian, of
course), listen to the
artists talk, and watch G. and
his butt-boy listen intently.
A week later I was asked to
join them for life in a
eight-story tenement with no
central air and two working
bathrooms. Screw that - I may
be creative, but I'm not
crazy. Still, no matter how
creative I might be, I cannot
imagine what those puppies
would have done with that car
if they caught it. Seems Dr.
G. and friend were just the
tip of a cultural iceberg,
though, what with this
burgeoning industry of
self-help books, seminars,
retreats, 12-step programs,
and miscellaneous
circle jerks all aimed at
turning the ordinary into the
creative. Underlying these
well-intentioned efforts is
the misguided notion that
creativity is good for you.
Bullshit. Creativity is hell.
Dr. G. might as well have
been trying to figure out a
way to give people
schizophrenia. Creativity
will cause you to do things
that no rational person would
do, it will alienate you from
normal people, it will clean
out your bank account and
drive you like that monkey on
a junkie's back. Ordinary
people ought to get down on
their knees and thank
whatever gods they worship
for not making them creative.
And fortunately for them, no
amount of touchy-feely,
New-Age, higher-power,
daily-affirmation nonsense is
going to work the magic they
so desperately want.

Walter Bauer
<BauerW@DynCorp.com>

We agree with some of what
you say here, but we can't
help but note an undeniably
smug undertone to all this
self-deprecation: "You don't
really want to be
enlightened, children, trust
me. Just stay the course with
your little animal
existences; ignorance is
bliss and so on."

(See also: "You want the
truth? You can't handle the
truth!")

Wanting the lies,

Sucksters

Beat The Press

Subject: Re: Jerkin' the
Gherkin'

Hmmm ... much ado about the
image of a 12-year-old
masturbating. Been reading
some Hakim Bey lately?

<JoeMason50@aol.com>

It's been a good 10 years
since I read Hakim Bey, and
I'm pretty sure I didn't
understand a word of it. My
influences tend more toward Porky's and
Spring Break.

St. Huck

Your piece on the
"myfirsttime.com" scam was
very funny; however, I was
disappointed that you didn't
use the classic euphemism
"flogging the walrus."
Although "firing the flesh
musket" almost made up for
it.

You could also try,
"agitating the asparagus,"
"pummeling the pomegranate,"
or "court martialing the
purple-helmeted warrior of
love."

Just a few suggestions for
the next time you have the
opportunity to so liberally
use masturbatory euphemisms.

Sincerely,

Captain Euphemism

Feel free to go back and
substitute "flogging the
walrus" for any of the
phrases that I used. Or just
add a new page of your own. I
think it was novelist Phillip
Roth who said, "There's no
such thing as too many
masturbation jokes."

St. Huck

Your Beat the Press was
hilarious - but the
references to
"www.myfirsttime.com" should
refer to
"www.ourfirsttime.com." My
First Time is different and
is not part of the scam.

P. O'Rourke

Well, www.myfirsttime.com was
supposed to be a play on
www.ourfirsttime.com. You
know, because there was only
one person involved and thus,
"our" would have to be "my"?

Any similarity to actual Web
sites was unintended.

Huck