The Flintstones

Jules Siegel jsiegel at pdc.caribe.net.mx
Thu May 1 21:43:54 CDT 1997


Thought some on the list might like to see my answer to this neophyte's try
for the Insults Hall of Fame.

At 09:06 PM 05/1/97 -0400, still lookin 4 the face i had b4 the world was
made <traveler at afn.org> wrote:

>Well, I read Siegel's much-hyped 1977 _Playboy_ article on his website, and
>was underwhelmed.  This guy, a wannabe writer[1], is just trying to cash in
>on long ago knowing a famous and reclusive (and REAL) writer.  Said writerD
>does not want publicity, probably fearing exactly the sort of crass idiocy
>that Siegel personifies.  And excuse me, why the F__K all the descriptions
>of the types of pot you smoked?  Oh, yeah, it was the 70s, that sort of
>thing probably seemed really liberated and profound, at least in the pages
>of _Playboy_.  Now it just looks like a bad parody of itself. 
>
>Anyway, he can harrumph and threaten about defamation and libel, but one
>thing that is undoubtedly protected speech is satire.  So if you are annoyed
>with Jules, mock away!  Ain't nothing he can do about it.  :)
>
>Max
>
>[1]Oh, sorry, Siegel is a writer too.  His book of e-mail posts is being
>photocopied and spiral-bound as we speak!  *stifles laughter*

At 09:06 PM 05/1/97 -0400, you wrote:

>Well, I read Siegel's much-hyped 1977 _Playboy_ article on his website, and
>was underwhelmed.  This guy, a wannabe writer[1], is just trying to cash in
>on long ago knowing a famous and reclusive (and REAL) writer.  Said writerD
>does not want publicity, probably fearing exactly the sort of crass idiocy
>that Siegel personifies.  And excuse me, why the F__K all the descriptions
>of the types of pot you smoked?  Oh, yeah, it was the 70s, that sort of
>thing probably seemed really liberated and profound, at least in the pages
>of _Playboy_.  Now it just looks like a bad parody of itself. 

Hello.

I thought you might like to know how amusing I found this message. It's
actually the very first one that I have received since the piece was
published that in any way criticizes its technical excellence.

You seem to be new to the list, so I guess you are unaware of the esteem in
which the article is held, even if I'm not. As you may have heard, I didn't
put it on the various Pynchon websites, but others did so independently, and
that's how I wound up conversing with the very intelligent if often
irritable folks who write clever things pro or con about me and my opinions,
but have yet to say anything demeaning about my skill as a writer.

I get about a message a day from all over the world complimenting me on the
memoir. If you'd like, I can start copying these to you, since I am sure
that you are really basically an open-minded person who is well aware of how
pathetically inane his, her or its idiotic messages look to others with more
conventional addresses and would like to improve his, her or its mind.

It's a pleasure to have an imbecile like you as an enemy, because it makes
it so easy to put you down. All I have to do is ignore you and watch others
do the same, which is what I will do from now on, except occasionally to use
you as an example of the Internet at its absolute bottom. Keep up the good
work. I'm sure you can eventually learn how to write a literate insulting
letter with lots of hard work and practice!

Meanwhile, here's the rest of my credits, since I imagine you are incapable
of using a complicated program such as a web browser and would prefer to
have things spoon-fed line by line.

[Follow with complete curriculum and credits, which I posted to him but not
the list. I guess this is one of those drunken tourists in white shoes and
polyester leisure suits someone complained would be ruining pynchon-l as a
result of being discovered by Wired News. The dialog between this person and
his, her or its friend from the Michigan outhouse district reminds me of
Abbot and Costello on 'ludes and crank. You can be sure they won't use these
folks in their marketing materials. Add Mittlewerks and you've got The Three
Stooges in leather drag. Good grief! I tawt I saw a putty cat!]


--
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