To cap off the year, this week we're printing the best letters to the editor of 2008, a retrospective of the wit, wisdom, and, occasional ire of the Mercury's closest readers. Here's to a brand-new year of the provocation/response feedback loop. We'll see you on the other side.—Eds.
DEAR MERCURY—I wanted to say thanks for making the Portland Mercury excellent wrapping paper for those of us who are poor, or don't see the point of paying for something when it is provided for free every Thursday in boxes spread around the city. It is great, and sometimes people think it's cool that I used a weekly paper for wrapping their gift instead of wrap-specific goods, which is odd because I'm not cool.
LINES FOR A LOON
DEAR SIR OR MADAM: In order to show my support for a strong Britney presence in your publication, I submit this little poem, written while Ms. Spears was a guest of the UCLA Medical Center:
The former Mrs. Federline
Has lost her tiny little mind
And to the hospital's confined.
I read about it all online.
Perhaps she just needs to unwind.
Let's pray her psyche realigns.
One really oughtn't be unkind.
Celebrity is such a grind.
VULVEENA: IT'S THE CHEESIEST
DEAR SIRS, MADAMS, AND KIDS—In Ms. Romano's column [One Day at a Time], she consistently misidentifies that which is viewed under the skirt of a panty-less tinsel-tart as a vaheena; to wit, a vagina. What she sees, and unfortunately what we see on TMZ, is a vulva. But as she is a satiric writer, she does need something a bit catchier than vulva. Please accept my humble suggestion: vulveena.
DEAR MERCURY—Let's get one thing straight, or two, whatever. (This article offends my learned sensibilities ["Portland Wants Squatch!" Feature, April 10].) The Sasquatch is NOT SCARY because it is NOT REAL. Trail cats, as in bobcats you might meet on the trail: VERY SCARY! A hunter/logger/hippie/surveyor's worst nightmare EVER is a cat, because they wait quietly in the trees (where you can't see them!) and jump on you from out of nowhere and claw your eyes out and eat your brains before you can grab your gun!! You folks, er wait, Ezra "Ace," needs to get a grip and get out of his condo more often.
YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE
DEAR MERCURY—Although the public blood sacrifice of your interns was a bit harsh, it did seem to satisfy the weather gods, and bring about spring as promised. Let me know if a memorial fund is being established, I'll gladly contribute.
TO THE EDITOR: Why are hipsters such assholes? Are they just deeply insecure? Is it a case of permanent teen-hood? Please help. God won't return my calls.
-Crushed Little Bird
WE'RE ON VACATION!
In order to recharge our batteries, the Mercury is taking next week off, and we'll return with a brand-new issue on JANUARY 8! Oh, stop crying. You have all the entertainment listings you need (two weeks' worth!) in this issue, and besides, you'll be able to read us every goddamn day on Blogtown. Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to climb into a bottle of alcohol, and say "nighty-night."