for 12 August 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.

I read today's Hit & Run
— not my usual MO, but
I'm bored. It started out
with a piece on Woodstock '99
and, like everyone else, did
the "oh, the humanity"
routine on the seemingly
senseless rioting that
occurred on Sunday night. And
just like others, you accused
me and everyone else who was
there of being a spoiled brat
with nothing better to do
than act out the aggression
of DMX and Korn because I
have no original thoughts.

Perhaps I am spoiled into
thinking that forbidding any
outside eating or drinking
items and then charging $4
for a 16-ounce bottle of
water and $12 for a horrible
veggie burrito and $15 for
something resembling food is
nothing more than extortion.
We were told we would have
showers and that security
would keep out gate-crashers,
all of which proved to be
lies. And about the fires
— let's not forget it was
an antiviolence group that
handed out the candles that
ultimately fueled the fires.

Say what you want about the
people involved in the
looting and rioting, but as
far as I'm concerned, I hope
the promoters and Ogden
Entertainment (who fixed the
prices on food) lost money
— a lot of money — on
this ordeal.

Robert Lee
<RLee@t-c-n.com>

Well, I was making a joke
about all of the moaning and
groaning adults are doing
about today's kids. But if
your letter is any
indication, you really are a
bunch of pampered little
twerps.

Your pal,

Bartel

Boy, that really fucking
blew.

I've only been reading for a
week (found a link at the now
mysteriously defunct Mr. Show
site) and I enjoyed your last
Hit and Run, but today's sucked
cat balls.

No doubt by now you are
thinking of inane "jokes"
about my nick and my grammar,
but that doesn't really
bother me. What bothers me is
that you felt the necessity
to bore us with bullshit
about that fucking wannabe
Woodstock (I don't even
remember what was in the
fucking middle) and that crap
about the America Online
book. The funny thing is,
that book will probably make
it to the top of the fucking
charts because Americans are
stupid and buy cheap, gimmicky
things to amuse themselves.

Why don't you do a fucking
useful rant, like on how
television is the mind killer
(as opposed to fear), how
corporate America kills this
country, or how stupid people
get ahead in life while I eke
out my miserable existence.

I haven't bothered with the
archives yet, so if someone
has done a rant on the past,
maybe I'll dig for it.

I'd like your columns if I
found them funny, but making
light of stupid people's
actions just seems like
you're trying for a laugh.

Have a nice fucking day,

senornacho
<senornacho@geocities.com>

Hey, why don't you write a
really useful rant for us on
one of those fascinating,
timely subjects you just
suggested? Someone with your
grasp of the important events
and issues shaping our world
today, and with your writing
talent, really should do more
than get by. You should be
swimming in money from
high-profile, freelance-
writing gigs, man! Get on the
ball!

Just, uh, be sure not to
forget that self-addressed
stamped envelope, OK?

Supportively,

Sucksters

Sucksters,

My first-ever visit to your
page uncovered both your
write-up on Woodstock '99 and
its link to Holly Martin's
brilliant "It Takes a Village
of the Damned" from 18 May
1999. I'm 28, and every time I
hear the term Generation X, I
want to both puke and punch a
baby-boomer media-hack in the
fat, white gut.

Think about those
impressionable young (-er
than me) kids who hear all
the bad things about their
generation in the
thoughtless, baby-boomer
controlled media and don't
know any better than to
believe it! Then stuff
100,000 of them into a hot
cinder of a field for three
days of terrible music and
charge them $10 a pop for a
veggie burrito. Gosh, who
would've thought there'd be
trouble?

You guys should save up your
dimes and buy CBS or
something so this kind of
reporting can get the wider
audience it deserves.

Anyway, nice damn job.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

AllenRendel
<arendel@robi.org>

Poor babies — they had no
choice but to shove random
women into the port-a-potties
and molest them!

More sycophantic mail for
you: You say the bitter get
southern Italy and the sluts
get the South Pacific. What
if you're a twisted,
perverted, bitter slut? Would
that involve a lot of
commuting? I like beer, so
maybe we could ask the
religious types to get us
Germany too.

Why is it, BTW, that the rest
of Suck is obsessed with
dissing Canada and making out
that we Brits are upset that
we don't have colonies in
North America (or indeed
anywhere) anymore? Honestly!
Most people here are only
vaguely aware Britain ever
had any territories in North
America at all, and the ones
who do know couldn't give a
shit.

Benjamin Hardcastle

<benjaminh@epic.co.uk>

Do you Brits all have names
like Hardcastle? Good Lord
Fauntleroy!

Miss Polly,

As my ideals slowly fade away
like grunting little Buddhas,
your words bring them
companionship and a
nonabstract coffin in which
to lie.

Thanks.

Matthew
<mtg@teleport.com>

My words keep your fading
ideals company? Fabulous!
More tuna casserole anyone?

Polly

Who filled your vat with
vinegar?

Vous attrapez plus de
lesbeeans avec le miel.

Oscar Wilde peut ditester mon
papier peint.

But he is dead and I'm still
clinging to mine!

La Femme Nikita
<lafemmenikita@angelfire.com>

You catch more lesbians with
honey?

You catch more disillusioned
men with vinegar.

Illusory,

Polly

Dear Polly,

I find the picture of you in
the Fish section utterly
disturbing. It reminds me of
something from my early
childhood in the USSR.
There's some grayness to it.
Depressing, sad grayness like
one may find in a state-run
hospital. In combination with
your last name, it brings me
to the verge of vomiting. You
deserve to have a better
picture up there. Please?

E. D.
<mlandas@hotmail.com>

Perhaps you know firsthand
what one may find in a
state-run hospital, yes?

Vomit-inducingly yours,

Polly

The Shit

"Gary's Trajectory," A Wanderer in the Perfect City, Lawrence Weschler, Hungry Mind Press, 1998 The Parallax View, Alan J. Pakula, Paramount Pictures DVD, 1974 Rogues to Riches: The Trouble with Wall Street, Murray Teigh Bloom, Putnam,1971 Actual Air, David Berman, Open City Books, 1999 Tibor Kalman: Perverse Optimist, Peter Hall and Michael Bierut, editors, Princeton Architectural Press, 1998 Canary-wing parrots, Dolores Street, San Francisco Super Shitty to the Max, Hellacopters, Man's Ruin Records, 1998 Request magazine (any issue after June 1999) On the Road to Vietnam, Bob Hope, Cadet 4046 vinyl, 1964 The Flying Ballerina, Drums and Tuba, TEC Tones, 1998 Dino, Nick Tosches, Delta Alpha Publishing, 1999 The Soft Bulletin, The Flaming Lips, WEA/Warner Brothers, 1999 Big Red soda