LAP DANCE & TABLE DANCE: THERE IS A DIFFERENCE!

HELLOOOOO JUSTIN: Read your review on Mary’s Strip Club [Theater, July 12]
and I say, “Hell ya to that!” One down, 49 more to go… Kidding! I really appreciated
the take. FYI, a lap dance is more of a body-slide booty-grind. A table dance
is a dancer dancing close, but no contact. But don’t believe me! You gather
those donated 20’s and kick them this way if you want to see the difference
between a lap and table dance. Nyack!

Teresa Dulce

OMIGOD! SHE SAID “INDIAN GIVER!!”

DEAR EDITOR: My letter to the editor of June 28, where I cautioned against
the use of the word “welch” headlining a Lon Mabon story, certainly got folks’
Irish up. Irony was the principle tool in my gentle remonstration: I used the
terms “chick,” “gyp,” and “Chinese fire drill” casually as examples of derogatory
terms coined by oppressors to illustrate the roots of the Welsh-insulting “welch.”

Despite the outrage, I must confess: I am remorseless about the comically bold language choices in my letter. Reading the responses from writers with lexicons shoved squarely up their butts showed me just how pretentious and counterproductive righteous rage is in this circumstance. What I find hopeful, however: that we are aware of the power of language, and treat it with the respect it deserves. What I find horrifying: that taken to extremes, the tyrannical censoring of “oppressive” language is oppressive censorship itself, of the most insidious kind–self-censorship. What I find hilarious: that folks who see the world through what they are convinced is the clarifying lens of language propriety could be so pitifully blind to a little fun with words.

Hell, I’d take the whole thing back if it’d get the mob to put down their torches and pitchforks and go home but I don’t want to be called an Indian giver.

Mary McDonald-Lewis

SHUT UP, MERCURY!

TO THE EDITOR: This is in response to Phil Busse’s “On My Soap Box” columns
[“Shhhh!,” June 28, and “Crash! Bang! Boom!,” July 12] taking on Portland’s
newly adopted noise ordinance. It is also in response to his email response
to me that if I didn’t like noise in the city I should move to the country.
I love Portland, and don’t feel I should have to move simply because some people
choose to be uncivil. Few day-to-day issues are as important as noise, especially
in reduction of quality of life throughout the city. For Busse to diminish this
is absurd, and contradicted by volumes of literature that document the serious
negative health effects of noise on urban dwellers.

As for individuals working things out between themselves, nothing in the ordinance discourages civil discourse and one-on-one problem solving.

I am not anti-music, even if it’s cranked up. But it is not my right to inconvenience others, nor is it the club’s right to play music so loudly that it interferes with other’s ability to sleep. It’s common courtesy to consider the impact your noise-making activities has on others. I support city hall’s effort to make Portland a less noisy, more civil place to live.

Mike Houck

SPEAK UP, MERCURY!

TO JULIANNE SHEPHERD: Thanks for offering to represent the oppressed on the
new Noise Task Force [Letters, June 28]. It’s encouraging to know that city
hall is being carefully observed on this issue by the Mercury.

You are wise in assuming that this Force is looking to target rebel music. Portland should stop worrying that this city might become an urban jungle. Anyplace that stops their buses and trains at one AM and closes the bars at two AM will always have “livability” in abundance. Face it, the rich, white, and powerful will always feel threatened when the rest of us express ourselves–even when we’re doing so legally, peacefully, and in good humor.

Torrence


“TELL SUSAN I’M SORRY!”

DEAR MERCURY: I would like to send my condolences and apologies to Susan
for the recent attempt on her life (“One Day at a Time,” June 28). I’m incredibly
ashamed to admit that I was a witness to that horrible attempt at hugocide.
The friend I was with asked if I thought the two people knew each other, and
I said I couldn’t tell, because one of them sure seemed to be having fun. After
reading the article about what happened to poor Susan, I felt extremely bad!
If I would have known what was really going on, I would have tried my best to
stop it. I am small and thin, however, so I probably would have just ended up
being hugged to death, too. I would have tried, though! Susan, do you think
you can ever forgive me?

Erin Freyer