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 Editors of jpt,
Quoting Sexton Parsons ("In Country Churchyards") [Issue 14], "The fragility of life before anesthetics, antibiotics and sanitary plumbing is recalled in stones almost weathered away.” It is not to steal attention from the essay’s rapturous elegance that I reflect upon the argumentative authority of this line, which ought to suffice as silencer of all who worship as ideal (or consider appropriate and just for mankind) the notion of a primitive, nontechnological condition. A certain poetry, a certain seductive romanticism lies in man’s heroic contention with natural adversity, perhaps an intensified feeling for survival and life (when dreaming of success), but it is a schizophrenic or simply cold mentality that for the sake of the struggle or even for the sake of the “natural” world would sacrifice to illness, pain and death the larger portion of men, of women, of children. The global carnage wrought by confiscating and proscribing technology would far exceed that of war or of present levels of technology-derived environmental stress and contamination. I think that perhaps without realizing it, Mr. Parsons with his rumination-in-passing has touched upon a greater truth than may be drawn from the assorted other life-and-death ironies and observations populating his superb essay. —C.E.
Dear Editor,
The reason we find “strangely pagan carvings,” paintings of the naked in frolic and so forth adorning many elaborate churches and cathedrals is that religion is a magnet to perverse beings who delight in desecrating the sacred and in confusing clergy and worshippers who lack sufficient clarity. Pornographic exploitation in the very heart of the holiest places and the acceptance of such corruption afford the greatest demonic satisfactions. Any who questions this is advised that he has been manipulated to a condition of worldliness and of blindness to abomination, tended like a tree in the devil’s orchard and ready for plucking. —“Rev.” P.H.
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Dear jpt,
John Rice’s motorcycle adventure [Issue 14] was enjoyable reading. Like most who live to tell the tale, he was both smart and lucky in his crossing with the bear family. But do you think maybe you hyped the lead-in a bit with “I WAS PRACTICALLY EATEN”? —Danboone
What do you mean? He was practically eaten. Didn’t you glean from the text how he was practically eaten? Can’t you read between the lines, which fairly screamed it? John himself has replied to us, “I suppose being practically eaten is much better than being eaten in an impractical manner, though I doubt the bear cares much for matters of style in such events, opting instead for situational efficiency.” … which plainly says to us that he was, indeed, practically eaten. (Where do you people…) —ed.
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A Moment If I May:
The caption beneath the photo of Professor Loose [issue 14] (with the blotted-out face, as in some FOI-released top-secret document) has him "in search of the MFSOs," while the lecture talks of FMSOs and MSFOs. Typo? Does noticing this put me on a liquidation list? —Egan
Ahhh-- that's why he didn't find any MSFOs. He was raptly pursuing MFSOs, which as far as we can ferret are undefined. Gee, hope that hasn't cost the taxpayer another bundle even as said taxpayers approach depletion. —ed.
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Dear Editors,
I very much enjoyed the Marion Jones poems, “Mannequin” being my favorite of the trilogy. Please consider expanding your poetry section, and please bring us more of Marion. —Mayflower36
Well by now you've seen the issue, Mayflowah, and *BING* there's Marion! Merry Christmas. We agree—wot u sed— but can only bring you what is brought us. Are you a poet? Then provide, provide! —ed.
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Dear Editor,
I find various levels of truth and wisdom within the labyrinths of your Wine and Seizures scriptures. Here, for example, about the Seer [Issue 14]: "Findeth he the anxius father that saith, See here this daughter Aieeefer, and see the swarthy brigand Fulf that loveth after her: seeing as thou seest, oughts I permit them marry? And a coin from father, & a coin from Fulf, & a coin Aieeefer, and the answer, Sure, marry. (For what is it to the seer?)”
It’s the template for all our industries that trade in counsel/guidance/advice. Take a shot, whip out a recommendation, count coin— what is it to the counselor? In fact, if things don’t work out for the client, there’s a good chance for a second bite. The best rackets are backed up by professional societies that in case of trouble can declare whether or not any “malpractice” has occurred. The verdict might just reflect to some extent how solid a standing the practitioner enjoys in the professional society. —Jess N
Somewhere, somehow, somebody must have kicked you around some —ed.
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Dear Editor, Journal of Provincial Thought
Fortescue “Kid Spats” Deepelum is laying down a PhD dissertation on the fine points of jazz. I enjoy jazz but is there such a thing as too much information, even for a brainy zine? There are a million fascinating threads and this is not light reading. I can see an advanced student or someone who’s obsessed with the subject, maybe a professional, absorbing info till his eyes bug out, but I just don’t need to know this much. It’s very apparent that Fortescue is a heavyweight. When it comes to entertainment I’m lazy. I want to kick back. Fortunately you carry a little something for everybody. —SA
Maybe there’s a jazz offering right for you in the For Dummies series of enlightenment. —ed.
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Did you know that ants can count? The nonlocality of mind is due to the multidimensional nature of the universe. We are everywhere. —PL
Hey guys, Professor Loose has escaped the Frosty Mug Lecture and is out here running through the halls. Would somebody please hand the Professor a Modern Science and a pipe and show him to his new office? He's frightening the readers. —Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Professor Loose, our newest jpt staffer and Chief of Advanced Concepts. That's because jpt rewards seriousness. You know from here forward it's going to be real. —ed.
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Dear jpt Editors,
I have been hoping to become entangled in a running intellectual dispute in this forum, but to date I haven’t come upon anything that irritates me enough to bother flaming. Are you adverse to controversy? Is there nought you can say to set me off, no article you can publish falling just past the limit of my tolerance, to which I can take meaningful exception? Can’t we all just not get along? —Rudyard
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong, Kippers. —ed.
—Consulting ed.: You might detect in many of us a certain level of apathy that leaves us but marginally interested in principle and proof. Encounters with beings of your bearing tend to vindicate the detachment.
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Dear Moguls of jpt,
I mishandled a situation that has haunted me for years. When I was a skinny college freshman, an upperclassman called Big John McA___(something) who was sitting behind me in a classroom flicked my ear and, perpetual demonic grin ablaze, asked whether my mother had had any children who lived. Choosing to deem the offense rhetorical, I simply faced forward and sweated until the professor came in. Did nothing, said nothing. Friends at jpt, what should I have said to Big John? —Resentful in Muncie
Dear Resentful,
You should have told him the truth, whatever it was, according to your best understanding. LET”S TELL THE TRUTH, PEEPS —ed.
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luminance
