DEAR MERCURY—To Mandee, the smokin' vegan who is only comfortable hurting herself ["A Cry for Help," Letters, Jan 10]: Please get off your high horse for a brief reality check. You claim to minimize your footprint by riding a bike. At the same time, you provide direct support to one of the vilest institutions in the history of capitalism: the tobacco industry. Your continued financial aid perpetuates decades of misinformation, denial, and predatory advertising, often aimed at children, women, and the poor (to say nothing of the environmental consequences of growing and processing tobacco, and manufacturing its many chemical additives). This has in turn directly resulted in the deaths of untold thousands of people. If you want to smoke that is fine, but to claim you do so in a bubble is the paragon of ignorance.    



DEAR MERCURY—Nice article ["Jacked Up," News, Jan 10]. The same thing is also happening down the street with my store, Home Ec. The building was recently bought by a greedy development company. And they are raising our rent by almost 50 percent, which we, as a small business, cannot afford. Developers do not care about our neighborhoods and what makes them great and unique... they only care about money. The only people who can afford the jacked-up rents these bastards are imposing are corporate chain stores. Hawthorne is quickly becoming another NW 23rd, and will be soon filled with boring, sterile, cookie-cutter yuppie shops.

 Blackie, Home Ec.


GREETINGS—Latest article was great ["Get a Room!" Feature, Jan 10]. Been living by myself now for over a decade in my dark-as-a-cave apartment, which I can sleep so smoothly in. Nice to know any dishes in the sink are mine, and it is not causing a problem for anyone else. One reason people are so fussy over who they share living space with is because if they get the wrong person in there, it can have a hellish impact on their daily life.

I've had to endure loads of stuff left over from previous tenants, sometimes including pregnant animals. I've had people stealing my food, cats messing up my artwork, roommates playing with guns when they drink, roommates scamming landlords, landlords scamming tenants, sewer overflow-flooded basements, an entire basement [used] as a cat box, the list goes on and on. In all fairness, people living with me have had to put up with my crap. My dirty habits, my noise. People calling in the middle of the night, my vomit in the bathtub in the morning. Your magazine should sponsor a contest with a prize for the worst roommate story. I know of one that happened to the coworker of a former friend of mine. It is really too horrible to tell people. But I'd be curious what others have to say. 



DEAR MERCURY—Great story ["Get a Room!" Feature, Jan 10]. Now you should have Jennifer Furniss do one from the other side: from a homeowner who has had to deal with the freaks on craigslist, along with the roommates from hell. One guy had held up a bank. One renter spent three days naked in bed and hard, with the door open, when he was supposed to be in court for beating his woman. I could write a book. I had no idea of what I was getting myself into when I started renting a room.



DEAR MERCURY—Dark Lord is missing the point ["Dark Lord of Error," Letters, Best of '07 Edition, Dec 27]. If King left Gorgoroth months ago due to ideological conflicts within the band, then Gorgoroth would have already replaced King with Jimmy Horncleft of the Tustin Toiletheads. Dark Lord don't know metal. Rooting for Infernus while burning on a warped drip torch is too benign for such a sporangiophore like Dark Lord. He better check his ledger if he is going to be badmouthin' the Snotmimes in the Mercury. I say piss off—if you have a full bladder!


CONGRATULATIONS TO MENTALE- NEMA2000 for inscrutably defending us against Dark Lord's earlier suggestion that we "hang on a crooked cross." For this act of heroism, Mentalenema2000 gets two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater and No Fish! Go Fish!, where you can order your food rare, medium, or burning on a warped drip torch.