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[Please send printable correspondence to mcsweeneysmail@yahoo.com. Thank you.] - - - - From: J.L. Subj: Steegmuller, Greene, &c. Dear McSweeney's (and particularly the M.R.), Here's this, from Francis Steegmuller's portrait of Graham Greene, GREENE ON CAPRI: "Indignation that would not be roused by a degree of industrial wealth no novelist could ever envisage will regularly be directed at the prosperity of a gifted writer. And Graham Greene, since his death, has been rebuked by commentators eager to demonstrate that, in his having caused millions of readers to buy his books throughout half a century, and having profited from that seemingly harmless transaction, he had relinquished his immortal soul. Creative writing, which, alone among the arts, seems delusively accessible to every articulate person, has immemorially attracted that confusion of esteem and envy, centered on the independence in which it is conceived and composed: a mystery of originality that never loses fascination for the onlooker." in fond sympathy, JL - - - - Date: 31 Jul 2000From: Chris Packham Subject: begging for less malice Dear McSweeney's, Harper's? Are you serious? Well, my tendency is to take sides on issues, and I believe I'll take yours. It seems to me that alienating a talented young author of no small acclaim smacks of bridge-burning. Particularly given the personal nature of the material with which they did it. I'm very disappointed to hear about Harper's severe and surprising lack of editorial propriety. And you actually spend major time in Iceland? Wow. Looking forward to the next issue of McSweeney's. Hope this finds you in good stead. Sincerely, Chris Packham - - - - Date: Mon, 31 Jul 2000From: PAOZOLS, ALEX Subject: Ask MR Dear McSweeney's: I worked in the world of public relations once upon a time and when one of our clients would get mentioned in the media we called it a "hit." There were, of course, good hits and bad hits (all of which we documented in slick, white 3-ring binders filled with plastic sheet protectors). But, nevertheless, there was our client being mentioned. So, there are devious and artful ways of using the bad hits to one's advantage. Sometimes our client would request that we contact the media and ask them why our client had been portrayed in such a bad light. Other times we would just blow them off. In my opinion (and my old boss would get like $250 an hour to formulate such opinions) is that now McSweeney's is in the public eye to the degree that some lit mags only dream about. You have a responsibility to your reading public to be what you are and not what somebody else (such as Harper's or the .org web site) says you are. David Bowie recently said in an interview that he resented "polite" criticism of his work and prefers good or bad words--anything that streams from raw reaction to his music. To acknowledge your "bad hits" points to something you recently said about the .org web site: "And here we are, giving the creator of the .org site exactly what I guess he wants: attention." You are giving them hits if you mention them in the future. I say blow them off. Sorry, this isn't a question. Hope the new issue comes out soon, I'm finished with my latest copy of Z Magazine already. A friend of Neal Pollack's, Alex Paozols - - - - Date: Tue, 01 Aug 2000From: Joel Tompkins Subject: Iceland McSweeney's, I came to the web site today to look into using McSweeney's name to get an interview with a Russian female pole vaulter I saw on NBC the other day and perhaps send some legitimate dispatches from Sydney. I have no reason to think you would be interested in facilitating this, no connections to the magazine except for having watched Kevin Shay perform at Brown University with my roommate in the improv comedy group Improvidence. My goal, for now, has changed though. I've recently returned from living in Iceland for some time, and I thought I would send a recommendation to David Eggers, if he's still there and someone in the office is inclined to call or fax him. In the letter Harper's reprinted, he says he likes to say yes, and to that kind of person I like to give suggestions. On the way from Reykjavik to Gullfoss and Geysir, in Reykholt, there is a new pub that I helped build called Klettur. The young family there is incredibly friendly, and they run the nearby youth hostel. If he's interested in geothermal vegetable growing they'll show him their beautiful tomatoes; he and guests can dip in the geothermal pool, have a pint, get a view of Mt. Hekla, "the jaws of hell." Couldn't resist sending a tip; I do not know Mr. Eggers, but I also don't know anyone else in Iceland to make suggestions to. All my best, Joel Tompkins - - - - Date: Tue, Aug 1 2000From: Julie Westphal Subject: It all comes down to plain ol' enthusiasm for something I thought was terrific Dear McSweeney's, Ok, I found out about mcsweeneys.net from a small article in Interview magazine last fall. After checking out the website, I ordered back copies of #2 & #3, and a one year subscription. I thought they were incredible, I told everyone about them. That's all it was, pure enthusiasm for something I thought was truly terrific! I'm sorry for all the publicity woes, and by being a fan, I guess I help create those, but I will forever buy McSweeney's published books, and I sent Neal $1 the day he asked. Thank-you, Julie Westphal Portland, OR - - - - Date: Tue, 1 Aug 2000From: Grant Barber Dear McSweeney's, Weird things will happen. You've had your say about the whole Harper's thing. Let them read the book. It's clear that you wrote it with integrity. Because you're basically a good guy you want to defend yourself. It'll stir the pot though. Take a deep breathe, relax and let it go. Looking quite forward to the new McSweeney's. Grant Barber - - - - Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000From: Bryan Charles Subject: An Awesome Dream/A Web site/Photographs Dear McSweeney's, I recently had a dream about one of my high school girlfriends. It was awesome. I woke up and was going crazy and thought, "Now I must talk to her. She's married now and I haven't heard anything from her in years, but I don't care because of my awesome dream." I called some people and got her number and left a long, rambling message on her answering machine. I did not leave my number. So what does she do? She calls my mother to get it. She tells my mother that she's married and everything and that the wedding pictures are posted for all to see on a web site called kocis.com. That's her last name now. Kocis. Then she calls me and leaves a message on my voice mail at work that ends with, "Next time you call someone, you should leave your number." I never called her after that, but I looked at the pictures on the web site. They all have great titles. She looks much different now. The first time we kissed was on a dock, at night, before a big, beautiful lake. Fondly, Bryan Charles - - - - Date: Mon, 07 Aug 2000From: Darren Higgins Subject: 26 Dear McSweeney's, It is my birthday today. August 7. I thought you might want to know in case you were not planning to take me out to dinner. Or perhaps you were thinking that you wouldn't make me a cake. You must be relieved to know that you can. You can take me out to dinner. And it would be just fine for you to make me a cake. Thank you. You are too kind. Darren Higgins - - - - Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000From: Sam W Stark Subject: What To Do With A Pig Dear McSweeney's, Yoko, I sympathize. Who besides a Spaniard would know that only the finest cured legs of ham come with the hoof attached? I live in New York, but have been fascinated for some time by an hor d'oeuvre called "rumaki," apparently most popular in the Midwestern and southern parts of our country. I have seen this dish described as "Hawaiian," "Chinese," "Japanese," and sometimes as just plain "Oriental." My guess is "none of the above"; still, the "dry mustard mixed with water to moisture" sounds suspiciously (to me, albeit a relatively naive Westerner) like your Japanese "wasabi." Does the word "rumaki" mean anything to you? Have you ever heard of such a dish in your own country, or any dish of which it might be derived? For that matter, are you familiar with any Eastern dishes with liver, or with bacon? Thank you in advance for your help, Sam Stark New York City - - - - Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000From: Dan Kennedy Subject: JUST SAY IT Dear McSweeney's- In response to Trina Brown's letter in which she solicits readers' experiences with parents who invented cutesy names for genitalia: My parents were also uncomfortable with the word "penis". I am a man who grew up having something called a "John Nagy" between my legs. Coincedentally, that was the name of the man that lived next door to us that my mom was not too fond of. My father openly criticized my mother's lack of parenting skills and took me aside one afternoon in 1977 to have a talk with me. He was kind and direct, making it perfectly clear that he and I had what every other healthy male had down there...a "Jimmy Carter". Finally getting it- Dan Kennedy New York, New York. - - - - Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000From: JulieWestphal Subject: pork rinds Dear McSweeney's, When I was growing up, my brother & I longed for potato chips, and all my mother ever bought were pork rinds. We hated pork rinds. Thank-you, Julie Westphal - - - - Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000From: Bill Fisher Subject:Note from Iowa City Dear McSweeney's, The undergraduates return to town like those little birds in California who return in large numbers to that one place at some point. (Spring? Spanish Mission thing?) Shitting flocks of noisy flapping creatures. As the birds/students arrived, we older and less-fortunate people sat on a weedy lawn and drank Old Style. A going-away party. A bittersweet occasion--some arrive, some depart... We sat until 5AM. It was too late. We importuned strangers. They were asked (who did the asking?) to join us. Special people walk around alone at night in our town. They all had drugs, or Jim Beam. There was a woman. How did she get there? She has a Romanian boyfriend. This did not deter me; the boyfriend was in Romania. I contrived to walk her home. She was breathless, constantly sighing nervously as I charmed her. Later, I judged that it must have been the Old Style, prompting the sighs. Alas... At home, I thought that the evening had been horrible, no, wonderful. Sunday, there was a storm. She gave me her telephone number. She wrote it on a wrinkled scrap of paper and pressed it into my hand. It was the first time anyone had ever done such a thing--I was in awe. I think I laughed, a bit too loudly, and said something like, "Ah, what do we have here!?" Was this the right way to respond? Is this kind of thing the whole source of my difficulties? With regret and perverse hope, Bill Fisher - - - - Date: Tue, 08 Aug 2000From: Christina Nunez Subject: Paul Collins Dear McSweeney's, While searching for a release date for Paul Collins' book about losers, I found several titles that have nothing to do, directly, with losers. However, it seems that the Paul Collinses of the world are writing about very interesting subjects, judging by these Paul Collins book titles from Amazon: Introducing Candlemaking British Motorcycles Since 1900 Dangerous Waters Oracle8 DBA : Database Administration Exam Cram Small Garden Design Administration for Development in Nigeria : Introduction and Readings Tricksters The MUP Encyclopaedia of Australian Science Fiction & Fantasy British Car Factories from 1896 : A Complete Survey Education in Ontario : 1980-2005, scenarios on the future Exploration Canada Gerald R. Ford : a man in perspective The government in exile and other stories Hart Massey God's Earth : religion as if matter really mattered Mixed Blessings : John Paul II and the Church of the eighties Papal Power : a proposal for change I wonder if any of these is the McSweeney's-published Paul Collins? Or maybe McSweeney's would like to undertake a Paul Collins imprint, since many of the above books are out of print? P.S. For the love of God could someone please tell me again when is Paul Collins' book coming out? Thanks, Christina Nunez - - - - Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000From: Steven Tomsik Subject: funnels Dear McSweeney's, I want to know did you ever in high school do beer bongs. I did. Some people's high schools called them "funnels" but to me that is simple. For simpletons. You know. The funnel, the tube! You pour the beer in and raise above head and open throat. And invariably someone claimed to do a beer bong with Jack Daniels or what have you but I believe they lied. No one could do that. Maybe Angus Young could do that? Bro, Steve - - - - Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000From: Karl Tobias Steel Subject: Peculiar Things to Say and Do Dear McSweeney's, I just returned from a week in Philadelphia. That has nothing to do with this letter. Three peculiar things: A man, accused of slaying two in a real-estate scam gone fouler, alleges, "Murder is outside my scope of realm." This correspondent, shoved at a rock show where he should not have been shoved, yells, "No one wants to touch you! No one wants to be touched!" Our inability to parse this sentence prevents a fist-fight. Drunk and excited in Philadelphia, my stupid exuberance tempting its excitable cops, I am somehow amidst a clump of republican delegates. I shout, "You! You're all philosopher-monkeys!" Your patience continues to astonish me, Karl Steel - - - - Date: Tue, 08 Aug 2000From: Michael McCarrin Subject: the truth about good and bad Dear McSweeneys, Bad things only happen to good people. When bad things happen to bad people, we say "good." This can get confusing, so here is a small chart of equations which will guide you: badthing + good person = bad for good person goodthing + good person = good for good person goodthing + bad person = bad for good people badthing + bad person = good for good people As you can see, we do not care much about bad people. Yours, Michael - - - - Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000From: Whitney Pastorek Subject: ka-boom? Dear McSweeney's, When I walk to the subway in the morning, the pale Queens sun is rising behind the elevated tracks of the N. The tiny people up on the platform mill about in silhouette and the silver trains sparkle as they rush by; it all seems so crisp, delicate, as though the scene were cut from unbelievably fragile paper with the thinnest of razors. Then I imagine it blowing up. All of it: Dunkin' Donuts, the Grand Central Parkway, those trucks with their goddamned honking, the blue tin roof of the N station rocketed sky-high amidst plumes of orange flame. The wave of sound and rush of air would knock me back, possibly to the ground. I would watch as it all turned to ash. And then I would get out my cell phone, dial into work, and say, I'm not coming in today. Why not? my boss would ask in that way she has that reveals a deep presupposition of guilt and insubordination. Well, um, my subway station just blew up, I would answer smugly. And then I would hang up. And walk home. And watch "Hunter" at 1:05 on The Superstation. That would be cool. thanks so much, whitney pastorek - - - - Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000From: Ogilvie, Sara Subject: Grammar 2000 Dear McSweeney's, My mother blames my recent grammar problems on laziness, but I think that brain cells are falling out my ear as I sleep. Last weekend I used the word "swang." Yesterday, while at work, I actually said "I had do that before," and now I keep replaying the incident in my head, again and again, hoping no one heard me. My grammar used to be impeccable...now I think I might need to hide in a cave. Sad, sara ogilvie - - - - Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000From: Robert Beier Subject: From your office correspondent Dear McSweeney's: Since my tenure here at MLB I have learned that baseball phrases do not only apply to the game of baseball. They also apply to the office just as well. I have been asked if I am looking to "play in the majors". This was said while asking me if I wanted to help out the Commissioner on a project. Welcome to The Show boys. "Now we don't want her thinking you're her farm team." This was said about a fellow co-worker thinking she could call me whenever she wanted help. "Are you pinch hitting today?" Asked of me when seen by a fellow co-worker sitting at someone else's desk. "We're gonna have to step up to the plate on this one." Obvious. "Swing and a miss." Said to me when I gave the wrong answer. "Do you want to go to third base now?" Whispered to me in a closet located near the boardroom. Regards, Bob - - - - Date: Wed, 9 Aug 2000From: Ben Davis Subject: Weenus Inventus Dear McSweeney's, Well, I have five younger brothers and we all have 'em. Mostly it was referred to as 'item' i.e. 'does the item itch?'. Friends of my dad's from South Georgia have betrayed a warm spot for 'tee tee' and 'willy'. Some missionaries from Australia( their son, a pretty short little dude), alluded to an imaginary homoerotic situation with 'tallywacker to tallywacker'. My fave so far though comes all the way from the Navajo reservation on the NM, AZ border where in winter you should take special care not to freeze off your 'peepy stick'. Regards, Ben Davis - - - - Date: Wed, 9 Aug 2000From: Sarah M. Balcomb Subject: Do you think I'm an elitist? Dear McSweeney's, You may be sad to know that the new doorman at my office building is gone. Fired, I presume. Ah, sweet misunderstood Angel, I never even knew your name. On Monday morning, the last day I saw Angel, he was wearing a slick black pinstriped suit, his hair greased back with even more gel than usual. He was strutting around the lobby of my office building, a group of Croatian receptionists crowded around him, bearing their legs and covering their mouths to hide girlish grins. I hurried into the elevator, my Manhattan Portage "briefcase" slung across my chest, and upstairs I soon discover the source of Angel's hubris: he had discovered my missives and composed one of his own. All day I carefully avoided our doorman, taking my hourly smoke breaks in the back stairwell rather than outside. Is it just me or does every office building have dirty condoms littering the seldom-used stairwells? As I left for the day, keeping my head low and walking with a purpose, the doorman was on the phone. "No, that's not true. They all like me. I get along great with everyone here," he was saying, sounding desperate, grasping in his shiny suit. I never saw Angel again. A silent fifty-something black man with a lazy eye now occupies the desk. His garb is much like a referee's uniform, except with suspenders instead of a belt, and he often keeps a whistle in his mouth. Stitched into his uniform, in green embroidery, is the name Trina. Let it be known that Angel has a very important voice, a new voice that needs to be heard. That voice is the voice of the street. The new urban denizen, who some may call a monster, a predator, raised in the ghetto, raised on violence, without hope, without a father. But without people like Angel, we would be hopelessly lost in our intellect, ruled by our cynicism, unconnected to our animal roots, unaware of what is real, tangible. So Angel, I hope that you do not silence yourself, do not be afraid to share your voice with us. Break out of your chrysalis, Angel, bud with us... No more stealing sneakers for crack. We are here for you whenever the street gets you down. Peace out, Sarah M. Balcomb PS - I hope your blisters have healed. - - - - Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2000From: Dan Kennedy Subject: SINGLE TALL WITH WHISKERS Dear McSweeney's- This morning at the neighborhood cafe, I was in line with one other person: A middle-aged conservative woman who was in front of me and had already been served, I assumed. The guy working at the register said, "I can help you miss" and I thought he said, "I can help who's next," and so I stepped forward and gave him my order. And the woman kind of looked at me. And the employees kind of looked at me. Hey, everybody...look at the tall woman with the five o'clock shadow taking cuts in line. Little Miss Kennedy was ready for his morning coffee. Finally awake- Dan Kennedy New York, New York - - - - Date: Thu, Aug 10 2000From: Mike Topp Subject: Island of the Little Boys Dear McSweeney's: Has anyone else ever heard of Raymond Burr's "Island of the Little Boys"? Just curious. Sincerely, Mike Topp - - - - Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2000From: Person144 Subject:My Shopping List 1. Sewing Machine. 2. Thimble. 3. Bread. - - - - Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2000From: Justine Hermitage Subject: Street Smarts Dear McSweeney's: Today I was walking down the street, after getting a haircut. I smelled of Aveda. It's a distinct smell, but for the life of me, I can't describe it. You have to have smelled it to know this smell. There were a lot of little hairs on my back and my neck. I kept wiping these little hairs out of my eyes. I itched and scratched and wiped. And my skirt kept twisting around. Every block or two I'd feel for the tag that's sewn to the back of the skirt, and I would eventually find it on my hip or in the front. And my V-neck shirt kept creeping down so my distinct lack of cleavage was enhanced for all the world to see. I stepped off the curb to cross the street. The light was green, or so I presumed. Well. I got hit by a cab. It hurt. Now the itchy hairs don't seem so bad. Yours truly, Justine Hermitage - - - - Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2000From: Rubies at Tea Time Subject: pink tights no shoes Dear McSweeney's, I am nearly 25 years old and I am going to be a ballerina. Never mind the fact that I will develop lithe and powerful legs, I am going to wear the pointe shoes without breaking my ankles. Yes I will. I don't care about my audience. I do not wish for one. I want a room with a nice floor and a gigantic mirror and a barre. Then I will plié and moon over my legs and my balance will dramatically improve. Yours, Mary Fisher - - - - Read Previous Letters:
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