DEAR MERCURY—[Bruce] Springsteen's original guitar is a Tele with an Esquire neck, so it shouldn't say "Telecaster" on the headstock of your cover illustration [Cover, March 27]. Otherwise, thank you Ezra Ace Caraeff for writing a great piece on the Boss ["The Cult of the Boss," Feature, March 27] and not ripping him to shreds like I expected the jaded Mercury to do (Billy Joel circa a few months ago ["Piano Boy," Music, Nov 22])!



PORTLAND MERCURY—Thanks for giving Ed Garren some ink ["Garren up for a Fight," News, March 27]! He's fresh, outspoken, knows how to get things done, and applauds diversity! Ed Garren is just what Portland needs!!!

Pamela Ferguson


DEAR FORMER EMPLOYERS—Please tell me that this is one of those running jokes of yours. I was more than mildly irked by Andrew R. Tonry's inflammatory Yellow Swans Up & Coming a few weeks ago for a wide variety of reasons, not the least of which being its laundry list of factual inaccuracies—each easily dispelled by anyone who has actually seen the band in question [Up & Coming, Music, March 13]. But in the interest of repudiating my reputation as a pretentious asshole, I held my tongue. Tonry's rockist musings this week [Once More with Feeling, March 27] on the "soullessness" and in-authenticity of technologically informed music feels so simple, arrogant, and desperately antiquated, however, that I just couldn't control my fingers. I mean seriously—aren't we over this? Are we really talking about this, still? With all due respect to Mr. Tonry: In a town as musically progressive as Portland, I can't believe how much ink the Mercury has wasted on this ignorant, ridiculously pre-millennial (pre-centennial, even) techno-paranoia.

Zac Pennington, Former Mercury Music Editor


DEAR MERCURY—For 10 years I have lived in Portland, and picked up a Mercury almost every single week, giving me plenty of opportunities to see things written inside its pages that have really boiled my blood. But the column written by Andrew R. Tonry in last week's paper has just pushed me over the edge [Once More with Feeling, March 27]. In one of the most generalized, sweeping sets of 250 words or less that I have had the misfortune to read in your magazine, Mr. Tonry dismisses electronic music as soulless, unsubtle, and without allure. As a part of a community in Portland that is working ever harder, spending personal dollars, and working with small businesses and organizations that are spending THEIR dollars to bring Portland some of the finest in techno and dance music, it makes me sad that in the one place that I always hope will throw our shows and efforts a bone every once in a while, there is someone who is in the employ of the Mercury who shows an ignorance this glaring. Tonry, you don't have to like electronic music, or techno, new disco, or even poor bastard electroclash. But please, good people of Portland, someone somewhere has got to know more, and care more, and be a better writer than, and not be as damaging and embarrassing as this guy.



DEAR FUCKING PEOPLE WHO HAVE TIME TO WHINE ABOUT SOMETHING THEY READ—I know it doesn't take a lot to get most people wound up these days, but did you notice the cherry blossoms in bloom [RE: any recent letters to the editor section]? Did any of you whiny ass bitches take a moment and notice this delicate and brief early sign of spring? Or were you too busy sipping your microbrews and locally roasted pretentious coffee to notice? Seriously... on average, Portland has more folks with a secondary education per capita then almost anywhere else in the world. But didn't any of your professors teach you to not be such self-absorbed, broken butt-whistles? Next time I pick a copy of the Mercury, I wanna see some gratitude for the pathetic, privileged lives you lead. And by the way, it's not like you PAID for the copy of the Mercury you're now holding, all right you fuck-wonk? Lighten up.


CONGRATULATIONS TO FLUFFY, who read something that made Fluffy mad, took the time to write in and whine about it, and is now walking with the Mercury's letter of the week prize! Fluffy gets two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater, and lunch for two at No Fish! Go Fish!, where broken butt-whistles are prohibited.