LETTERS

The following arrived in response to last week's cover package, "64 Things Las Vegans Had Damn Well Better Be Thankful For":

I'm only thankful for one thing about Vegas, and that is that I met my wife here.

Other than that, Vegas SUCKS.

I have been here for about 13 years, and Vegas keeps getting worse with all the non-English-speaking folks moving here, and the gangs, and let's not forget our mayor, the man who used to represent crime lords.

The only folks in this town who are thankful for it are the rich.

I don't think you will print this, but when I saw your article, I had to say my piece.

Editor's note:
You've said your piece, now we'll say ours: Come on, dude—there are a lot of reasons to think Vegas sucks, although we don't happen to agree: Gangs, sure; Oscar, OK; hell, mention traffic or the fact that the Weekly killed its horoscope. But "all the non-English-speaking folks moving here"? Xenophobia doesn't become you.

King Kong Ain't Got Nothin' On Me!, or Blog Fella Joshua Ellis Responds to a Recent Weekly Column

Richard Abowitz' November 27 All That Glitters column assessed the weblogs of a few local journalists. Most responded on their sites with varyingly successful degrees of sarcasm—Mike Zigler, for instance, resorting to the very funny strategy of referring to Richard as "Dick" throughout—but CityLife columnist Joshua Ellis fired off the following to Mr. Abowitz:

Thanks for the comparison to Delmore Schwartz—though I've always personally preferred the work of his most famous protege, Lou Reed, it's nice to be compared to one of the better poets of the 20th century. In dreams begin responsibilities, indeed! I've always thought of myself as more of a T.S. Eliot follower, though perhaps you disagree.

I find myself slightly puzzled by your review. I'm surprised that you took time off from your busy schedule as a Real Writer to notice lil' ol' me. To be sure, you hit Zenarchery on the head—for too long now it's been nothing more than a dumping ground for my irritation, which is why I'm in the process of repurposing and redesigning it. It was nice of you to mention my nascent furniture design enterprise. It's the newest addition to my list of random weird things I do for money—including graphic and Web design, music, writing both here and nationally, and working as a consultant in the Internet industry. When I'm not writing egotistical diatribes, I like to keep busy.

It's strange, however, that Zenarchery gets almost as many readers per month as the Weekly does. Admittedly, I don't have glossy covers with scantily-clad hotties to entice my audience ... so I'm wondering what the attraction might be?

Your characterization of me as thinking that I'm the smartest person in the room is fairly inaccurate, however. I am willing to defer to my betters. If you find any, by the way, especially here in Las Vegas, please let me know. You might even be one of them—I will admit that I've never published any reviews of Bette Midler albums in Rolling Stone, which has always been one of my lifelong goals, let me assure you.

My own stint writing for legendary cyberpunk magazine Mondo 2000 in my late teens pales in comparison, as do my internationally syndicated articles and acclaim from writers such as Suck.com co-founder Joey Anuff and Hunter S. Thompson. The fact that I am the most widely read writer in Las Vegas, despite my lack of even a proper high school degree or any real college education, fills me with deep humility every time I think about it—especially when my work is held up to the fine standard of writing set by local journalists in general and the Weekly in particular.

And thanks so much for getting Purvis to put my ultra-sexy picture on the article. I'm sure it will give female Weekly readers many hours of masturbatory material as they sneak the cucumbers out of their trailer refrigerators in the middle of the night, after they get off work cocktail-waitressing at Jerry's Nugget.

Richard Abowitz replies:
The words of Josh Ellis are just the sound of the wind beneath my wings.

Blog and Blue

In the November 13 edition, Kate Silver wrote about weblogs kept by local high-schoolers, eliciting this response:

Um, wow.

After reading your article about bloggers and their issues—which I almost found some agreement with until you trashed on one of my best friends, whose situation you know absolutely nothing about—I have to say you might need a little help, too. What makes you think that you're any better than them when you sit there high and mighty at your computer and write an article about how lame other people are? Your article had absolutely nothing to do with blogging whatsoever—all you did was find random blogs, quote them and mock them. "A Weekly reporter goes behind the blinking cursor to examine what happens in those online journals"? Please. It makes me wonder if you've got a blog of your own with the same sort of content, because obviously you've got the time and seem a bit insecure. Maybe you're the one who needs "a lithium drip, stat!"

So, until you've got some constructive journalism that doesn't consist of finger-pointing, immature, third-grade mockery, please. Just stop writing. Save everyone the frustration.

Editor's note:
Memo to Anonymous. When Kate made quips like "lithium drip, stat!," she was mocking the alarmism of adults who find scary portents in teens' blog-writing—she wasn't making fun of the kids themselves. We apologize for using grown-up sarcasm in a story about high-schoolers.

Why Roy Horn Would Make a Good Secret Service Agent

Roy Horn certainly exhibited the highest degree of professionalism when he got between his wayward tiger and the audience. I would call on all professionals who are supposed to be prepared to put their lives at risk, from bodyguards through the Secret Service, to do a reality check that the necessity for self-sacrifice sometimes actually happens. If you don't think you could be as professional as Roy Horn, then please take early retirement and let someone else save the country. Then this won't be completely vain. I know heroes abound every day, especially among the police and firefighters, but Roy sure is one of them. (Is it a silver lining that PETA was ever more fully revealed as the hate group it is)?

My heart goes out to Siegfried, too, who is coping with a touching blend of worry, optimism, loyalty, restraint and dignity.

I don't think we'll ever know exactly what the tiger was thinking, because I don't think the tiger knew exactly what he was thinking. I imagine Siegfried's first impression was part of the mix, that Montecore thought he was in trouble and wanted Roy to protect him, so he retreated to his cage and took Roy with him. Even if it was an attack, probably Montecore was perfectly capable of removing an obstacle that had suddenly transformed itself into vulnerable prey, and yet still fully expecting Roy to be around the next morning, as affectionate as ever. I add my prayers for such a happy ending.

Crooks in High Places

"American officials in Baghdad have identified at least 30 businesses and individuals in the United States that investigators said they suspect sold tens of millions of dollars in military technology to Iraq before the war," reported the October 16 New York Times. Heading the list of suspects are the Iraq-born Yakous, who are accused of selling three 85-foot-long patrol boats equipped with machine guns to Baghdad at a cost of $11 million.

The roster of suspects should be expanded to include Donald Rumsfeld, who opened the floodgates of aid to Iraq in December 1983. Henry Kissinger, founder of Kissinger Associates, helped broker deals that fed billions of dollars into Saddam's war chest—money that was used to build the despot's abortive WMD program. Former Kissinger Associates cofounders Lawrence Eagleburger and Brent Scowcroft, who helped close Iraqi aid deals with the firm, went on to hold key posts in the first Bush administration.

Most Americans would agree that if the Yakous and other small businessmen are guilty of aiding our nation's enemies, they should rot in jail. So should the likes of Kissinger, Scowcroft, Eagleburger and other power-players who committed that same crime on an immeasurably larger scale.