LETTERS

LETTERS

CREEM CROSS-COUNTRY MOVE EXPLAINED!

My name is Liz. My friend and I have a complaint. We are all Californians and we want you damn foreigners to get out of our state. That means all of you!! I can see you wondering—“What’s a foreigner?’’

Let me enlighten you—a foreigner is someone who was not actually born (thereby receiving the proper smog-laden attitude imprint with the first breath) in the area of CA. south of San Luis Obispo—or Arizona. The

fruits from up north have their own state.

Why are we so mad? Why?!?

What a dumb question—we’re pissed off because you jerks come out here and pretend you’re us! Bleached blond hair, skateboards, health food and designer clothes don’t make you Californian. They make you look like trendy, ill-bred boring sluts and make us look like we’re from Wisconsin. We can spot you yards away and you make us puke.

For your files, all good Californians:

Have mostly BROWN hair.

Don’t have tans—bad for your skin and besides, there’s too many tourists at the beach.

Are totally laid back, never exercise if they can help it and eat junk food at every meal.

Worship Walt Disney and love Disneyland, the Magic Kingdom.

And most importantly, the neverfail sign of a California native—we HATE New York City. It should be blown to bits.

So we can’t figure it out. Why do you keep showing up? Haven’t you

idiots figured out this is a desert? There’s nothing here but sand, drought, fires and mudslides. Not to mention earthquakes.

\ So all you fakes and illegal alien beings leave immediately, quit breathing our smog and drinking our incredibly precious water: You may, of course, beg for mercy or appeal to the higher court of Carl’s Jr., but it probably won’t get you anywhere.

Welcome to California. Now go home.

Liz Bass Oxnard, CA. I’ve been an enthusiastic admirer of your films since I first saw “Eraserhead” in 1979. A couple of times, I’ve started writing fan letters, but never bothered to send them because they just seemed too goofy. I guess I felt like I didn’t really have anything to say, other than that I love your movies.

THE POSTAL SERVICE: IT’S GREAT!

Dear Mr. Lynch,

For the past week, though, I’ve had a recurring dream that you made a movie about the inventor Nikola Tesla, and thinking about it while awake, it still seems like an excellent idea.

I don’t know if you’re familiar with Tesla, but he was the inventor of alternating current, fluorescent lighting and radio, among thousands of other inventions, as well as laying the theoretical groundwork for television, radar, plasma physics, atomic cyclotrons and many other things we take for granted today. All this around the turn of the century; but Tesla was such a genius that even if he were alive today, he’d still be ahead of his time.

He was also a very peculiar, flamboyant character. He had some strange idiosyncrasies; for instance, when in a certain state of mental excitement, he would see visions or flashes of intense light (reminds me of certain scenes in Dune and The Elephant Man), he was obsessively afraid of germs, he had an irresistable attraction to numbers that were divisible by three, he had to compute the cubic volume of his meals in order to enjoy eating, he had such a violent aversion to round objects and jewelry that the sight of pearl earrings on a woman caused him to shudder in disgust and leave the room. He did most of his work in his head and only made a working model of an invention when he had it perfected in his mind. He also had a weird, almost sexual attraction to pigeons.

He could have been a billionaire, but gave away many of his royalties and patents. When he died, many of his papers disappeared, mysteriously including plans for some of his more “out there” projects, like transmitting electricity wirelessly through the atmosphere, a “death ray,” and magnetically driven airships.

I wouldn’t be surprised if you were familiar with Tesla though. I can’t think of a better confluence of style and subject.

On a different subject, have you ever seen any films by the Brothers Quay? I just saw a few of their films—they’re twin brothers from Philadelphia who work in Europe and make these spooky, beautiful (threedimensional) animated shorts. They reminded me very much of your work in tone and texture. "Like Gumby as conceived by David Lynch” is how I described them to my friends. Maybe it’s that Philadelphia connection! I wouldn’t be surprised if you were familiar with the Quay Bros., too.

I’m including this record by the rock ’n’ roll band I’m in—Christmas. I don’t know if you like this kinda stuff, but I thought I’d send you one, hope you like it.

Anyway, please make that Tesla movie. I’ll go see it! That ought to convince those studio guys to give you some money.

Vaya con Dios, Daddy-O.

Michael Cudahy

Brighton, MA

I am surprised to see that in your June 1988 issue, the following pages had been censored by printing black circles on pages 40 and 41. Why? It’s stupid! Did you do it yourself? Page 17 shows pictures of some guy who just enjoyed his orgasm, so what’s wrong with coming (sic) shots? If you print more black circles, I won’t buy you again, ever!

L. Donher,

Voorburg, The Netherlands

EVER NOTICE HOW MORONS OVERUSE I.E.?

What follows is a thorough examination of the music critic.

A critic can be identified by the following behavior:

-speaks in single syllables -tends to frown upon pop culture, regardless of how it may affect him -tends to smile upon unsuccessful musicians who remind him of himself -tends to write hip reviews and find new and interesting ways to insult easy targets (i.e. Tiffany)

-tends to place obscure artists whom people love to follow (i.e. the Cure) on a pedestal -tends to attend Belinda Carlisle

NEW RAP BAND soon to release first album! Send away for an autographed photo of the guys. Any question about the band? Write them down, send them off, and be sure to include a photo of yourself as well. White Rap Fan Club, P.O. Box 605, Hemphill, TX 75968.

concerts already frowning -tends to attend Talking Heads and U2 concerts smiling -constantly kissing Metallica, Tracy Chapman, and Eric Clapton’s asses (Which is ok... they are gods) -constantly insulting people who make the top 10 (i.e. those same artists when they “sell out”)

-don’t appreciate the value of money over art

Do I sound bitter, assholes? That is because you scum-sucking, ass kissing almighty faggots have turned yourself into machines who automatically think that making fun of popular artists only because they are in it more for the money is hip. Music is like an election and if an artist can affect more people than anyone else then he must be doing something right. Who cares if he wants to make some money? If there is something wrong with making money why don’t you guys go write poetry in the Ural Mountainsorsomething? Michael Jackson is a pinko commie, but he is obviously a damn good musician to have sold so many records.

Get a grip and stop insulting your readers by being so damn selfrighteous ...

To prove my point, I bet you self righteous bastards are muttering something like “who the hell does this lousy pinko punk think he is.” Well, maybe, just maybe your readers say the same thing ...

Dean Kim Greenwich, CT

ANKLE BONE CONNECTED TO THE ...

I hadn’t read CREEM since sixth grade until I found a fairly recent issue in the john last week. I had quit reading the mag when you started doing more articles on the Psychedelic Furs and the B-52s than on Led Zeppelin and Ted Nugent, but upon perusing my bathroom booty, I realized just how much I’d missed your hilarious photo captions and overall comedic value. And even though your Cure calendar pissed me off, it was good to see somebody was still paying attention to Joe Walsh.

Do I have to get a recording contract to obtain a six of Boy Howdy! beer, or is its existence a sham perpetuated by the re-use of the same cansthat Beethoven posed with?

If you make fun of my name I’ll kill you.

Shin Muraoka Memphis, TN