DEAR MERCURY: I am writing in response to a very ignorant and hateful comment made in your film review: "We here at the Mercury hate hippies and their films." [Point of fact: The actual text read, "The Mercury cares little for hippies or their films." We do hate hippies, but we wouldn't print that. Film Shorts, Jan 26] Portland is becoming more and more of a clique-based community full of lust for glamour and coolness. Maybe even a place where a very important value is being forgotten, that this earth is where we live and we should all take care of it and everyone on it. Well, I'd rather hang with a dready with bugs jumping out of their hair than you and your boring, soulless, mercury-poisoned regime. You all could use a little patchouli to cover up your ugly, pretentious stench!

Someone Who Cares


HELLO! First of all, I want to personally thank you for keeping the Portland music scene thriving. Secondly, I would like to thank you for including Spun Academy in your article, "One Stop Band Shop" [Music, Jan 26]. There are a few errors that have upset our prospective students and harmed our institution:

"Brandon Neustel (AKA DJ What!?) runs Spun Academy, offering courses in turntablism—a one-day beginner course is $175 and a two-day crash course runs $325."

[Introductory course] DJ101 is $175 and is a two-week course. Our full music production and DJ courses, such as DJ110 and PROD110 are $325 and are one month long.

Brandon Neustel,


DEAR MERCURY: Not everyone who reads your paper is a whiny, 20-something hipster with a hard-on for garage bands. I find it hugely disappointing when the editorial space is clogged with an insufferable load of mewling, self-important groupies shitting themselves over the opinions of some other mewling, self-important groupie who listens to mewling, self-important bands for a living [Letters, Every Portland Mercury, ever]. Hipster news flash: The music editor gets PAID to do what you do for recreation. Seriously, cry more. We care.



DEAR MERCURY: I, un-anonymously, am so tired of reading "I, Anonymous." So what if you're pissed off about someone throwing garbage on the ground? Who fucking cares if someone in line at the movies spoiled the ending for you? What is wrong with all these people that don't have the guts to do something about what bothers them other than sending some fucking lame ass paragraph into a weekly? "I, Anonymous" is potentially one of the most brutally beautiful tools of sabotage I have ever seen. The opportunity to fuck with people is in front of us everyday, but not often do we also have the ability to inform them of just how much we fucked with them. My name is Jake Gaynor, and I, un-anonymously, am fed up and willing to start fighting back.

Jake Gaynor


TO THE MERCURY: I'm doubly offended by the Elliott Smith tribute show article by Adam Gnade [Music, Feb 2]. It's bad enough that he's carrying on the Katie Shimer torch by using the word "wussy," because he already used "pussy," but "lotta" and "gotta"? If Mr. Gnade is too lazy to write an article with real words, then I assume he's too lazy to formulate a thought-out opinion on other matters, so what he writes isn't worth my time.

Sarah Blount


DEAR MERCURY STAFF: I was SADdened to not come across the number one cure-all for SADness in your last issue of the Mercury [Portland Mercury SAD Issue, Jan 26]! Stop fooling around with dogs and depressants, and go get LAID! SEX destroys SAD. Luckily, we all know that February is the easiest time of the year to get some. So, please, put your issues aside and go get that special someone, bring them close, and have a wild night of SEX.


CONGRATULATION TO ANG for pointing out the best way to avoid being SAD—namely, shagging whatever drunkenly depressed, desperately heat-seeking specimen most appeals to you. For this astute observation, Ang wins two tickets to see the Soledad Brothers at Dante's on Thurs March 23, plus two tickets to the Laurelhurst. Guess we probably don't need to remind Ang to bring a date.