DEAR MERCURY—"She-male" [One Day at a Time, June 3]? Maybe I am sensitive, but I don't find terms like she-male, fag, and "that's so gay" funny when used as pejorative punchlines. I still think Ann is rib-splitting funny. I just wish she wouldn't endorse such trite and hateful lexicon.
DEAR MERCURY—Unless and until independent ballistics reports confirm that the two shots striking Officer Burley came from the gun reported to belong to suspect Keaton Otis, I can only suspect Officer Burley was wounded by his fellow officers in the wild fusillade that brought down Keaton Otis, and that "Otis' gun" was planted on him ["Six Things We Learn from Keaton Otis' Grand Jury Files," Blogtown, June 8]. We have a bunch of cowboys for police here in Portland.
-Somebody with whom the PPD has zero credibility
This makes me want to cry, puke, etc. ["The World Cup on a Screen Near You," Destination Fun, June 10]. The Mercury publishing how to "watch the World Cup"? Now every single hipster douche who hasn't watched a minute of a single game in four years is suddenly going to become an "expert" at football. Fair warning, if you are at one of our venues and you start mouthing off like you know the game/players, etc., you are in for a world of hurt. It is the height of irony that the Mercury, the freaking Mercury, is suddenly on this bandwagon. The paper that has done nothing but attempt to tear down soccer in Portland for the past two years is suddenly interested in the sport? Take your little hipster friends and go play bike polo. And [while] you are at it please eat a dick in a fire.
Thank your representative government there are anti-discriminatory laws on the books in Oregon, then ["Hate Comes out of the Closet," News, June 10]. Go up the ladder until you get results. Or, as someone mentioned, learn to defend yourself. The police are almost always reactive agents. They arrive long after the (potentially fatal) crime has been committed. It's sad that we have to do this but... you cannot expect the police to save you when thugs intend to harm you (or that they'll just wait around for the police afterward). And don't rely on the friendly strangers milling about after the club closed down to intervene on your behalf. Learn to (legally) protect yourself and then when the police show up you can claim your anti-discrimination stuff.
-posted by JustinB
TO THE MERCURY VIA VOICEMAIL—Hi, my name is Catherine Shrek. I've been living in Portland a few years now and reading your paper regularly. I'm flipping it through this week, and there's almost no content. I'm wondering if you might need a few more writers. If so, I'd be very happy to help you out.
LOOK, MERCURY—Tell that S. Finkelstein to stop being so jealous of Lindsay Lohan ["Look... Objectivity(?)," Letters, June 10]. Just because S. isn't a hot fucking mess with weird white powder coming out of her shoes (and nose and mouth, etc.) and setting off her SCRAM bracelet at the MTV Music Awards doesn't mean she has to hate on someone who does. And is. Or whatever. Because Lindsay Lohan is hot, leathery old lady skin and all. Of COURSE it's about her looks. Idiot.
THANK YOU KATIE for recognizing that the screaming wheels of Lindsay's train wreck have yet to come to a complete halt. Katie wins two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater and lunch at No Fish! Go Fish!, where hot, leathery old lady skin is shown some fucking respect.