| THE MAIL BAG..... We do in fact, every so often, receive letters here at AIM in response to some of our back issues. Thankfully no death threats and no lawsuits yet. People actually like this here electro-rag. We love the letters as it does give us all some sense of self worth in developing this item of high culture, so keep them rolling in. | |
Revenge of the New York Times Book Reviewer!
I read through a couple of pages of Good Intentions. Do you run your stories through a spelling checker before you turn them loose on the reading public?
Content-wise, the story seemed to be without any discernible depth or point -- just the ramblings of some college undergraduate enamoured with his own voice and very eager to say whatever pops into his inexperienced little head.
What good does it really do to write and give away for free, stories which reveal no insights at all into the human condition and which appear to stay on the level of the rodents and insects which populate all of the alleys in town?
It is tacky, cheap and hackneyed to spend all of one's attention on the dirty and vulgar and seemy side of life, thinking that there are any great insights to be had there. It has been done ad nauseam by much better writers in the past. Take a look at the output of Charles Bukowski.
Name withheld for safety reasons
(as mentioned in our submission guidleines AIM does not excercise editorial conrtrol over submissions as proven by the inclusion of the above letter - Ed.)
Not Everyone Hates Us...
Great site. I particularly enjoyed the Lorne Saga--an all too close resemblance to the family of some friends of mine.
peter@edrive.com
Watch Out for Stalkers Dennis!
......Just finished browsing the new issue of AIM and I wanted to say
HUZZA! Great work. I love it. Dennis is one of my favorite writers. (not to
mention favorite people) Hope the new job is going well. Oh yea, I have
also noticed that it is hard to concentrate on your hobbies when you have
no day job......
Peace, Kells
Howdy Mr. Ted Rosen,
Just finished reading your piece in AIM 3 and I felt quite a bit of
sympathy for you. I myself used to toil in the nefarious world of pro
audio, a mythical place that defies all logic and reason. It is a place
where one can witness first hand the elegies of our society at their most
vulnerable, victimized by the most trivial technologies. Medical doctors,
for instance, have some kind of unexplained impairment that prevents them
from using infra red remote controls to run slide projectors. I can't even
recall how many times I was made to crawl on my hands and knees through
crowded banquet rooms to tape down a hard wired "pickle" in the middle of
some stupid presentation because esteemed doctor so-and-so isn't competent
enough to point the remote at the goddamn projector, even though
you had gone out of your way to explain this miracle of modern technology
to him barely half and hour before. "It just stopped working!" His face
is red, beads of sweat form on his forehead. Damn homey, just chill out,
gonna give yourself a coronary. Boy, am I relieved that I can't afford
medical care.
Or the business bitch from hell that blithely tell you 20 minutes
before the shareholders meeting that "oh, we need to move the video
projector 20 feet that way, I forgot to tell you we need room here this
display table" even though just yesterday you stressed to her the
importance of being sure that everything was right where she wanted it
because video projectors take a couple hours to set up, otherwise the
picture is just red, blue and green shadows. "Can't you move it 5 feet?"
No, you fucking Prozac swallowing Lexus jockey, I spent three damned hours
here last night making minute adjustments with tiny little anti static
plastic screwdrivers making sure that your 10 minute video masterpiece
presentation could be executed with flawless, technical precision that
would impart upon your audience a sense that YOU were in control, capable
and competent, and ready for that corner office, but instead this is the
thanks I get.....desperately scrambling to put three blurry mis-aligned
ghosts back in to one clear picture as your boss and associates are filing
in, looking at me with cold contempt, thinking that I'm the brain dead
monkey boy, lacking evolution and devoid of proper planning skills. I
hope that someday when you're driving to your secluded beach house that you
see strange lights in your rear view mirror, lose a couple hours, and have
vague, frightening memories of the greys giving you the big ice cold anal
probe.
And of course, the techno twilight zone would not be complete
without the goddamn C.E.O. that gets up to the podium to give the BIG
SPEECH in front of 400 people and refuses talk into the microphone. A
personal assistant wearing a $ 200 "power tie" is looking at you with
horror and loathing, he is shaking with fear like a dog that just took a
piss where he knew he shouldn't have. "What kind of sound system is this,
no one could hear him!" Well, he's not talking into the goddamn microphone.
"Turn it up!" No, I can't do that, all we would hear is horrible feedback,
I'm afraid I'm not incompetent enough to do that. He reaches past me and
turns the volume knob. That all too familiar horrible squeal draws the
attention of everyone in the room, followed by the inevitable awkward moment of silence, a soundmans worst nightmare, the crowd looks at you like you had suddenly transformed into a tiny Richard Allen Davis. Dog boy is sheet white. He leans over to me and whispers at the top of his lungs, "We are never using your company again!" I remain calm, I am a professional
man. I smirk. "Oh, we'll see how funny you think this is when your company
loses our account!" .....
Ahhhh, anyhow, thanks for your article, I feel better already.
Jim Failure | |