TO THE EDITOR: Please inform Mr. Tejaratchi that falcons do not make honey. Honey is made by bees [From Where I Sit, Sept 28]. He makes the statement that "they (falcons) also make the sweetest honey" in the second sentence of the second paragraph of what I presume he thinks is a column. In the first sentence he refers to falcons as "tiny, swarming birds of prey." Falcons are neither tiny nor swarming. They hover and dive upon their prey, or stay in a posed manner on a perch until they swoop upon their prey. Mr. Tejaratchi may be thinking of hummingbirds, but they are neither birds of prey nor makers of honey.
The public interest would best be served by keeping this person a safe distance from any device which can create words, including a pencil. Please protect your readership from his babbling and delusions of grandeur and for whatever unknown reason, superiority. Thank you in advance for your cooperation in this matter.
EVEN JESUS HATES SEAN
TO SEAN TEJARATCHI: Christ, how I hate you, Mister Tejaratchi [From Where I Sit, Sept 28]. Your photo with your hood and clenched teeth says it all. Your failure to climb socially has led you to the only possible place a zine GEEK like yourself can get a decent-paying gig.
I constantly marvel at your tiny, frightened squirming psyche as it is gradually revealed. Please, at the very least, move Mr. Sean's column to the classifieds, or somewhere where it will not disturb the enjoyment of Mr. Millionaire and the others! Get a fucking life, you cretin! Burn in fucking hell!
SEX WORKERS ARE BORING
TO THE EDITOR: Treacle's speech and the whole goddam "ain't we progressive 'cause we show pussy for a living" sex industry is FUCKING BORING ["Sexual Abandon: Where Art Thou?" C. Everett Treacle, Sept 28]. Nothing more then a self-indulgent middle-class priority could turn a traditionally misogynist industry into the newest craze for the terminally bored. Sure, all the high powered, in-your-face graphic imagery can get a rise out of a body, but it is a weak second to powerful, intimate, erotic, non-tendered sexuality. And that is the third side of the coin that Treacle and the larger sex industry never seems to mention.
To my mind, very few of us had our sexual coming-of-age initiated within environments that made us feel good about our bodies and innate right to sexual expression. More likely, we discovered how our bodies worked within a culture of double standards, repression and shame. That is where the industry gets its muscle.
And while I admit transforming the industry into one controlled by woman is a victory of sorts, it is not nearly as impressive as it could be. Not when I consider some of the real opportunities a progressive sex-positive agenda might offer. But then again, maybe Portland's "sex workers" are not really interested in offering alternative and empowering rites of passage to the young sisters and brothers coming up. Could it be they actually believe they are facing down the repression that is so rife in our society or, more likely, merely capitalizing on it?
YOU'LL MISS US WHEN YOU'RE GONE!
TO THE EDITOR: I actually still get to ingest my RDA of Mercury, thanks to portlandmercury.com. I thank you for this, as I have recently left your fair city. Keep up the good work. Try not to get shut down for running a 'lewd publication', but not too hard. Thanks for making me laugh, and giving me some good, albeit bizarre, memories.
TANTRIC SEX -- MERCURY= BOOTY
DEAR EDITOR: What started out as a revolutionary magazine has turned into nothing more than toilet paper (sans the club guide and Dan Savage). I was appalled at your sophomoric "Back to School Guide" [Sept 21].
Sure, I'm all about humor, sex (especially the good kind), drugs and music. But to glorify these "simple pleasures" in such a distasteful manner is vomitous. Perhaps if young men spent less time at the Pamela Anderson Lee website spanking the monkey and more time reading books like How to Make Love to a Woman, or anything on tantric sex, a young man would know how to get some booty.