MORE LISTS THAN THE PORTLAND MONTHLY
TO THE EDITOR—Portland City Commissioner Randy Leonard's $840,709 "Service Coordination Team" targets a list of 408 citizens for "special"—i.e., especially harsh—treatment by law enforcement, with neither published nor written criteria for inclusion on this list ["Leonard's Secret List," News, Aug 21]. This situation calls to mind a claim made by a senator from Wisconsin half a century ago: "I have here in my hand a list of 205—a list of names that were made known to the secretary of state as being members of the Communist Party and nevertheless are still working and shaping policy in the state department." Joe McCarthy had made no such notification to the secretary of state, and it turns out, McCarthy had no such list. Unfortunately, Leonard's list does exist, and is acted upon.
NOBODY CROSSES JACK JOHNSON
DEAR MERCURY—RE: "A Celebration of Mediocrity" [Music, Aug 14]. Not withstanding Mr. Lannamann's disingenuous "maybe I'm wrong" qualifiers in the last couple sentences, this piece is a virtual caricature of itself. Twenty years from now, when he is still banging away at Portland's second-string free weekly, hopefully this little gem will be near the front of his portfolio so as to put his career in context.
Joseph H Sharpe
STUFF WHITE PEOPLE LIKE
DEAR MERCURY—I can't help but notice that the critique of Jack Johnson, "A Celebration of Mediocrity" [Music, Aug 14], has less to say about Johnson's music than it does about the fact that he's white and successful at enjoying himself. How smoothly Lannamann lets us know that his heroes are appropriately black and underprivileged. Thank God for moralistic music columnists who make so little money for their scathing prose, and therefore provide an appropriate model of suffering for us white readers to follow.
A CARD-CARRYING FAN
DEAR MERCURY—I would like to applaud and bless Ned Lannamann for his review last week of Jack Johnson ["A Celebration of Mediocrity," Music, Aug 14]. Mr. Lannamann finally gave me language to explain the sense of dread and feelings of despair I have every single time I hear Jack Johnson playing on the radio or at a party. I cut the article out and carry it with me in my wallet. I will read it aloud to anyone willing to listen until the day I (or, preferably Jack Johnson) die.
CONGRATULATIONS TO ANDY for not having terrible taste in music. Amen, my brother. You get two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater and lunch at No Fish! Go Fish!, your godly source for loaves and fishes.