By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
By Charles Lam
Letters may be edited for clarity and length. E-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org, or send to Letters to the Editor, c/oOC Weekly, 1666N.MainSt.,Ste.500,SantaAna,CA92701.Orfaxto(714)550-5908.
Jim Washburn's piece about Terri Schiavo left me crying in my lunch ["You're Going to Die," April 1]. Once again, he's written a beautiful, thoughtful and thought-provoking piece about an intense subject. His honest discussion of his own loss crafted a graceful personal connection to a national news item that reverberated strongly for me and I'm sure many other readers. Thanks, Jim; I wish there were more like you and that powerful writing like this could reach more people, particularly those with differing viewpoints.
Washburn has this sad situation right on the money. I agree that this inane grasping of physical life "ain't livin'." Talk about weaving inconsistencies by the political right, which values marriage yet devalues the propriety of the husband in this instance. They hold the religious belief of an afterlife, yet they fearfully avoid it at all costs.
If some child killer or serial murderer were executed by means of starvation for 14 days, wouldn't that be defined as "cruel and unusual punishment"? Wouldn't the ACLU and Amnesty International be screaming out against this act? Yet where were they when an innocent woman was murdered by her husband, aided and abetted by the state of Florida and an incompetent federal judiciary? Michael Schaivo is no better than Scott Peterson. The only difference is that the state and federal judiciary gave their blessing to Schaivo's criminal act.
Gustavo Arellano, take a deep breath. That was free. Transferring the cost of a bus trip from the passenger to a third-party payee does not make the ride "free" ["Get On the Bus—But Not You," March 4]. Try using your head for something besides a hat rack.
I am a little confused when it comes to a recent article written by Joel Beers about the Maverick Theater ["Restless Maverick," April 1]. Is Fullerton really in the middle of a "mini gold rush"? What would constitute a mini gold rush? Opening bar after bar and yet another lame theater? Well, then, waste no time in digging a bomb shelter because we are on the verge of a cultural explosion. How can you call Fullerton energetic, diverse and vibrant? Downtown Fullerton is just a bunch of bars. If creating a place where a guy can quote Bertolt Brecht to his fellow thespians all under the hidden agenda of trying to score some tail off some unstable theater chick is the groundwork for a Greenwich Village, then I must be an idiot because I thought Greenwich Village was full of actual artists and people of talent.
I want to thank Steve Lowery for pointing out that rape is not about sex but power [Diary of a Mad County, April 1]. I volunteer as a rape-crisis counselor, and I can't tell you how many times I've had to explain this to survivors. Thank you so, so much for making that a point in the article.
Who the hell told Gustavo Arellano that Puerto Ricans want to be like Mexicans [¡Ask a Mexican! March 18]? I would never want to be a Mexican. Although we are alike in many things, we don't really share most Mexicans' taste for bad food and horrible music. Oh, and why would I want to copy anything from a Third World country of more than 90 million people whose leaders can't attend to their basic needs of water, food, health and shelter? Puerto Ricans are the happiest people in the world just being ourselves.
I won't deny that Orange County has some good architecture [Theo Douglas' "Architecturally Sound," April 1]. But, c'mon, it doesn't come close to matching Los Angeles County where it really counts: a ton of beautiful 1920s and '30s Art Deco and the incredible madness of the Italian Renaissance wave that preceded it.
Please try paying a little more attention to Long Beach, guys. You say you like L.B.; your looming presence is probably why any of our attempts to do a weekly (Grunion Gazettedoesn't count) have failed. And yet you never come visit (except when Commie Girl goes to a club). Your article on bánh mì was a case in point [Professor Salt's "Bánh Mì, Don't Be a Hero," March 25]. I mean, how do Long Beach's bánh mì selections stack up compared to OC's? I know most of the Pine Avenue restaurants suck, but surely there's one or two of them worth going to. And what about all the breakfast places? But it's not just food—we have a city government that could use a little exposure, arts, a couple of colleges. Maybe you could put in a Long Beach guy who could speak up about these things?