DEAR MERCURY—Brian Blessed is still alive and knows how to swing a scepter, therefore Thor sucks balls ["Thunderstruck," Film, May 5]. Anthony Hopkins can't generate enough fury to upturn a craft-services tray, much less endanger all of the Nine Worlds because he's mad at his son for being almost as big an asshole as he is. Blessed could do all that without having to even stand up. So, fuck you, Thor.
DEAR EDITOR AND MS. [VIRGINIA] THAYER—I am the owner of Pub Quiz USA and an advertiser in the Portland Mercury ["Drink and Think," Feature, April 28]. I am simply floored that our quizzes were not even mentioned. All of us work VERY hard to put out the best pub quiz out there, and make sure all our players have a great time playing our quizzes. Given our solid background, roots in Portland, our dedication to our quizzers, and, simply put, our quiz nights that rival and often eclipse the quizzes you listed in your feature article, I have to ask again: Why were our quizzes left out in the cold?
-Alisa Stewart, "The Queen of Quizzery"
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN—Please view any Tyler Perry film in order to understand that the man does so much more than dress in drag and talk about Jesus [Film Shorts, April 21]. Via his many films and even more numerous plays, Mr. Perry has lovingly created a portrait of modern African American life in the Atlanta area, through humor, drama, and yes, a little bit of drag. Flip reviews of his work make the paper appear ignorant of their import, and condescend to those who recognize him as an auteur.
DEAR MERCURY—As an experimental filmmaker who regularly shoots on celluloid 16mm, I found the article "Celluloid Cemetery" all too close to home [Feature, May 12]. Not only are major studios switching over to all digital but Kodak has been regularly discontinuing all sorts of wonderful film stocks that filmmakers all over the world are missing. However, the more folks who get to see works on film—be it old Hollywood prints or experimental films from organizations like Cinema Project—I think they will begin to recognize further the need to protect this flickery aesthetic as a true art form, rather than just another piece of the media-making puzzle.
DEAR HUMPY—I am horrified at the description you made in this week's "I Love Television" column about Tom Welling's nipples ["Nipples No More," I Love Television, May 12]. Either you have bizarre taste in nipples, or you've made a horrible, horrible mistake. If Welling's nipples are 1.2 inches in circumference, as you've described, they're only going to be about three-eighths of an inch in diameter. Toy Chihuahuas have bigger nipples than that! And if Welling's nipples are also five-stacked-quarters high, as you've also described, they're going to look more like the barrels of BB guns than like any nipples I'd ever want to gaze at longingly (or at all). In fact, your description of Welling's nipples sounds more like the gun nips on those robots in Austin Powers instead of anything on any Superman I'd care to meet. Perhaps this description is due to a geometrical error, or perhaps you have twisted nipple preferences (ha! twisted nipples!), or who knows what, but please be more diligent in your nipple descriptions in the future. These matters are really of the utmost importance.
IT'S TIME TO TWIST and shout, Robert: You won this week's Mercury letter of the week! You get two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater and lunch at No Fish! Go Fish! where all nipple proportions are respected.