for 2 September 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.
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Hit & Run I very much enjoyed your latest Hit and Run, the interview being my absolute favorite. It amuses me that even in his fight for independence, Chief Hypocrite, or whoever, still succumbs to good ol' Hollywood. A man's got to make a living, right? I can't blame him, but it just seems fitting. So if and when they gain independence, is he going to become a foreign film star or what? I thought he was brilliant in Thomas and the Magic Railroad, BTW. Nacho <senornacho@geocities.com> "Chief Hypocrite" was fighting The Man before you were even an itch in your dad's pants, señor. Considering how many Hollywood westerns had Indians played by Sicilians (or in the case of The Searchers Chief Scar was played by the Berlin-born Heinrich von Kleinbach), it's only fair that a guy like Russell Means make a little jing from Hollywood. Yr pal, BarTel  Dear Suck, I love reading your witty views on different things every day, especially with all the cool visuals. My only problem is that I find the format of "not a lot of words per line" kind of annoying to read. I have to constantly scroll down. Is there a way you could add another regular type format? Ashish Shetty <ashetty@andover.edu> No. I don't watch movies or TV very much, so I don't know if you're pulling my leg. I just thought it was an interview with an angry guy until you started rolling with the questions about acting in movies, etc. Come on!!? A guy that hates the American establishment takes direction from somebody in Hollywood? And if you did go to a reservation with a casino, how could you tell if the odd man out was a Canadian or a white guy (assuming he wasn't wearing a toque)? Kent Milani <milanik@processing.ersgroup.com> If he's Canadian, the odd man out will end every sentence with the phrase "... but I'm not from the United States; I'm Canadian." And don't say you don't watch TV or movies. It throws off the statistics. Mega-opichi-meegwetch (thanks) for the interview with Russell Means. It is opportunities like this that allow the general population(s) to learn about our issues. As a Native north of the 49th parallel (after all, my ancestors did travel across this continent), I was pleased and keenly interested to learn about the intentions of my relations to the south. Usually printed media, unless published by our own people, doesn't allow for full discourse of the issues at hand — we get to talking semantics. Anyway, thanks for spreading this news. Although I usually read your page for humor, it's good to see that you take on serious issues from time to time. (I have only subscribed for a couple months now.) Denise Bouchard <debchrd@cancom.net> Mega-opichi-meegwetch right back atcha. You might find that Means' opinions get rather short shrift even in media printed by The People. But you've got to give him one thing: He's colorful. Yr pal, BarTel Talk about no sense of humor! The appropriately named Russell Means is doing himself and his cause a great injustice by being such a rude bastard. His obnoxious, sophomoric "come backs" and post-PC posturing is just so ridiculous. Thanks again for humorously exposing the depths to which people sink. Nina Gregory
The reason Americans "chomp blithely" on said foods is that the FDA has actually made it ILLEGAL to label foods as not-genetically altered (I'm sure you remember the brouhaha over BGH). The government knows Americans wouldn't touch the stuff with a stick if there was anyway of their knowing what to buy. A large part of the trade war with Europe was over this. Europeans didn't want to be guinea pigs for large chemical companies and the US biotech industry. Eventually the United States caved a little bit, allowing the Europeans to label which foods were genetically altered (opening Europe to "free market forces" and "allowing consumers to decide for themselves," a goal that apparently carries no weight here. This particular example of our heroes on Capital Hill, striking another blow for freedom, is just dripping with irony). Since protection of the consumer can't possibly be offered as an explanation of this policy (he must be stopped before he cuts himself out of this incredible deal!), some of us would see it as yet another underhanded subsidy for US high technology (à la stealth). But given the way you terated the Indian, I guess you'd rather not hear it. Joe! <jhammerm@astro.ocis.temple.edu> ZZZZZZZ! Wha'? Oh, sorry, Joe, I just dozed off with my face in the seedless winter cantaloupe. "... the way you terated the Indian?" Did you read the interview? Yr pal, BarTel
I am really confused and concerned by Russell Means' comment that there are no black people on reservations. An African-American friend of the family worked as a doctor heading the tribal public health outreach program in an eastern casino. We asked him about the Native Americans, and he said that most white people would categorize them as black because they were, in some cases, African-American and only one-eighth Native American, etc. The majority of the tribe had some African-American ancestry. As far as I know, this is common throughout all or most of the tribes in the southern United States, with only the western tribes, albeit the largest tribes, keeping more genetically pure. I felt Russell's comments couldn't go by without some comment. As for your odd support of the eco-psychotics, I can only say that another friend of the family lost 10 years of his research and checked himself into a mental hospital after his genetically engineered corn, meant to help curb Third World hunger and produce stronger plants, was destroyed by thinly veiled luddite fascists. Had he created the same product organically, a process that would have taken 50 to 100 years instead of 10, the same eco-terrorists would have left him alone and maybe even used his organic genetically altered corn as an example of curbing Third World hunger. It makes you want to read that Onion article ostensibly by the 16-year-old farm boy again and again until it all sinks in. Your kids can get blue eyes one of two ways: by genetic alteration or by you fucking a blue-eyed person. Either way, it's the same exact result. Don Smith <dsmith@>qrc.com> Last week, in comments before the Navajo Supreme Court, Means' own lawyer noted that there are more non-Indians than Indians living on Indian reservations and that therefore his client should not be subject to the courts of another tribe. Go figure. Not fucking any blue-eyed people, the Sucksters Subject: Let's look at the results of pot use Scientific studies are but one source of info on marijuana.We have seen so many "junk science" reports floating around that they cannot be relied upon as a definitive answer to the drug issue.The fact is that scientists are human and have just as many prejudices as the rest of us. Let's look at the results of marijuana use. All the admitted pot smokers I have met on the Internet appear to have certain characteristics in common: They are immature, illogical, and incapable of discussing things in a calm, adult manner.They appear to be totally obsessed with weed to the exclusion of other issues. They babble incessantly about things that appear to have no relation to the subject under discussion. I myself have read of several studies which indicate that long term use of marijuana leads to permanent changes in brain chemistry. Most studies indicate that the byproducts of marijuana use remain in the bloodstream permanently. That's enough for me; I won't touch the stuff. Joe Bruno <Arusski@webtv.net> Once we were young like you, Joe. Such days! Out on seaside jaunts in our straw boatmen's hats, we whistled, "Hey Fiddle! Hey Fiddle!" at the young ladies with their matronly chaperones and drank bathtub gin with the brothers of Bones. When I graduated from old DeQuincy, my father called me into his study, handed me his watch and fob and an envelope full of greenbacks, and told me, "Son, this is yours to use as wisely or as foolishly as you see fit." I used half of it to buy myself a Roadster and put the other half into stock in His Master's Voice. The market was humming and jumping like a Negro band in those days. A year later, by God, I was rich! Youth! Youth! How buoyant are thy hopes! They turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side. It's all gone now, blasted and seared with age. You kids don't know lickspit about the world. "Businessman, come drink my wine," you sing, "Come and dig my herb." It's all beer, skittles, and toad- licking to you, with your "Be-ins" and "Happenings." Oh, you'll learn! BarTel Filler Polly: I think you are tops. There is one thing about you, however, that I find confusing and alarming. Whenever you face to your right, your hair is parted on the left side, and when you face to the left, your hair is parted on the right side. How do you do it? Yrs, Scott Dolan <Sadolan@aol.com> It's an ancient Chinese secret. Actually, I never even noticed that. I must be possessed! Confused and alarmed, Polly Subject: Ants a-prancin' Polly: I hope that scenario with the ants caving in to lethal threats really happened. I believe that if you explain to pests that there are very clear conditions related to their continued existence or utter destruction, they will fall into line with insect precision. I have such a relationship with roaches in the apartment: They are free to live with me, but if I see them, they die. It's very simple. There was a colony behind the stove when I moved in, and these punks didn't like the arrangement. So they died ... oh, how they died! Most were crushed by my barely touched copy of Infinite Jest, natch. Finally, one emerged that at first I thought was covered in dust, as it was strangely white. Then, as it scuttled around, I realized it was TRANSPARENT! It was some kind of freak albino god-roach! Obviously, it was the shaman of the colony or priest-king or something. I destroyed him with the footnoted might of David Foster Wallace, and the colony withered on the vine and now troubles me no more. Certainly there's still the odd palmetto bug that appears, forlorn and confused on the linoleum before vengeance descends, and I imagine there are grizzled old veteran roaches, deep in the walls, shaking their heads in disappointment at the brash newcomer who couldn't live by the rules. It sure would be great if I could exert this kind of control over my personal life. It's a sad state of affairs when the roaches are more cooperative than friends and lovers. Nobody else ever understands the clear conditions related to their continued existence or destruction. Chris Mohney <cmohney@menasha.cncoffice.com> Maybe you need to submit your terms to people, so they're absolutely clear on what will get them killed and what will save them from your vengeance. In order to be understood, Chris, you have to communicate with others and let them know your expectations, your feelings, and all the limitations of your clearly handicapped emotional state. Forlorn and confused on the linoleum, Polly Polly, Oh my goodness, I'm amazed you printed my letter! I'm so happy I could pee myself!!! Were the other letters really that bad? This makes two printed letters now. Now I'm having all this guilt about not buying that Suck T-shirt earlier. I suppose for someone raised Methodist, this is as close to a Catholic-level guilt as it gets. interesting. Anyway. Gregory Pyatt <gpyatt@uclink4.berkeley.edu> Forget the T-shirt. Send expensive gifts or cash prizes. <sincere look of drooly avarice> Polly I was so excited when I saw your mention of rabbits in the 3 August Filler. Imagine my disappointment when, in the last frame, you had what appeared to be another of Terry's excellent renderings of the infamous Canadian crack-smoking rabbit ... sans crack pipe! What gives? Your fans deserve better. Disappointedly, Ben Miller <benmiller@email.com> Look. The Canadian crack rabbit still exists because ... well, big rabbits are always kind of vaguely amusing. But mostly the crack rabbit is a tradition, and like any tradition, however worthless it might be, it's upheld over the years because ... well, we forget why, but we don't forget to remember the tradition itself. Having said as much, crack is over. "I'm on crack, our channel is like E! on crack, stop smoking crack, buddy": All are overplayed, very bad jokes. Remember when everyone was saying, "Seeeeeeee ya!"? And then it was on national commercials and it was truly, painfully unfunny? Remember when everyone was doing the Macarena? Why, I saw an ad for a major car company (not Skittles or some lame MTV brand) that ended with the line, "What's up with that?" Do these things make you slightly nauseous? I'm not saying I'm so incredibly hip. All I'm saying is crack jokes aren't funny anymore. I like the rabbit, but the crack part is not so tremendously zany. It never was, to be honest. The Canadian part is still chuckle-inducing, kind of ... But even that's been mainstreamed by South Park and Co. But then, will making fun of Canadians ever get old? Oh, who gives a shit, really? Thank you, uncle fucker! Polly |
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