FW: Unsubstantiated Rumor That Melanie Jackson Denied Playboy Japan "Interview"

jbor jbor at bigpond.com
Sat Nov 20 21:27:26 CST 2004


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From: jbor <jbor at bigpond.com>
Date: Sat, 20 Nov 2004 11:47:42 +1100
To: <pynchon-l at waste.org>
Subject: Unsubstantiated Rumor That Melanie Jackson Denied Playboy Japan
"Interview"

----------
From: jbor <jbor at bigpond.com>
Date: Sun, 21 Nov 2004 10:49:48 +1100
To: <pynchon-l at waste.org>
Subject: Unsubstantiated Rumor That Melanie Jackson Denied Playboy Japan
"Interview"

Scoop
Sacramento, Ca., 21/11/04.
The threat of legal proceedings has been issued by a crack team of South Bay
area lawyers hired to represent the proprietors of Playboy ® Japan against
not-quite-reclusive-yet New York writer, Thomas Ruggles Pynchon, on a charge
of Breach of Technicality. Pynchon, currently in the final stages of editing
his new novel according to a source close to his publisher, Henry Holt Inc.,
was today unavailable for comment. Pynchon's wife, agent Melanie Jackson,
who had reportedly provided a statement on her husband's behalf denying that
he had ever given an interview for publication in Playboy ® Japan, was last
seen gloveless and being whisked away from her offices by minders through a
shower of rain in downtown Manhattan. The stylish mother of one was pelted
with abuse and vilified by the credulous denizens who had thronged onto the
streets and hung themselves out from windows all along the laneways of the
impoverished village as she braved the kerb stiletto-perfect and swooning
and then was slid behind the dark-tinted glass and rear door of a battered
blue-grey Impala. Her horrific outburst is reported to have come in response
to a telephone inquiry from ... from ... somebody. Somebody. Erm, scratch
that ... from a regular contributor to an on-line discussion board dedicated
to "pretty much any Pynchon-related topic". The fan, a member of the kooky
shadowpynchonoid splinter group, is said to be too traumatised to speak
following the incident.

Witnesses to today's scene claim to have observed Ms Jackson's tear-filled
eyes peering out, eight ruby-shards in the shape of a happy-clown-V all
spattered in raindrops clutching to the top of the mirror window like
painted fingernails. "It's true", she was heard to sob as the luxury sedan
sped away into the afternoon. "It's true I tells ya."

Details at 5.

best





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