By Matt Coker
By R. Scott Moxley
By Charles Lam
By Nick Schou
By Gustavo Arellano
By Gustavo Arellano
By Steve Lowery
By R. Scott Moxley
LAZY AND CRAZY
The following article is in response to the coverage of Ashley MacDonald's "suicide" (Nick Schou's Sept. 7, 2006, "Shoot First, Ask No Questions Later"; Nov. 9, 2006, "Hey, Chief!"; Feb. 1 "Fire at Will"; March 15 "Inside the Kill Zone"; April 5 "Thanks for the Work!"; and June 5 "Suicide by Cop 101.")
I cannot get enough of your articles in relation to Ashley MacDonald. I swear I e-mailed your "Hey, Chief!" article to practically everyone I knew. Most of these people do not live in Huntington Beach, as I do, and they refuse to believe anything like that could happen in the so-called "Surf City." I personally have no clue what it must take to be a H.B. cop, nor do I believe that the mentality is limited. I am not the first person to catch them sleeping in their cars, and given the fact I was less than a block away from the park where Ashley was killed, I can only deduce you must have two mindsets—and only two—in order to make the cut at the H.B. Police Department: Lazy and Crazy. Nevertheless, I still do anything and everything I can to avoid the H.B. police for any reason. Keep the good stuff coming.
I've been a fan of Sol-T for many years now. I am so glad the Weekly is staying up on real OC hip-hop. Sol continually brings flavor, class and a uniqueness you don't find much anymore in the world of MCs. Mad props to the OC Weekly. And to all the readers out there, you better keep your eyes and ears open. Sol-T is bringing it back.
Yeah. Sol-T's a hip kid, got a very interesting attitude. Thanks for the article.
Kid looks fresh. This is what I want to see coming out of our community when it comes to hip-hop. Thanks to the OC Weekly for not rep-ing the gangster-wannabe shit. I like his songs on the MySpace, too. Peace.
The "Ask an American" idea seems like a great one to me. Run 'em side by side, with a shot of a redneck looking at the Mexican.
Eventually, you could run "Ask an Asian From Garden Grove." Tee hee. Or "Ask an African-American Who Hates Watermelon."
Dick Miller, former chairman
LA/Anaheim chapter of the Baseball Writers Association of America
When-oh-when will we tighten up those Nevada and Arizona borders leading into California? It's so tiring hearing from another fat white boy who is "still fairly new to Southern California" tell us longtime locals about immigration. Our Mexican brothers and sisters know which way the wind blows out here, and you do not! And you never will! So please waddle back to where you came from!
After I read the vile letter from Charles Drengberg, the kind of white-trash scum I've come to loathe and revile, I wanted to say one thing first: A veces estoy muy avergonzado porque soy gabacho.
When I hear that kind of racist garbage coming from someone who is new to California—or from anyone, for that matter—I think, how can they be so unaware of our history here? When I hear that crap, I am truly ashamed to be a white American.
SoCal was once a part of Mexico and was stolen from the Republic of Mexico in an illegal war. Ask that piece of white-trash filth, that foul-mouth vermin, Charles, if he actually earned the right to live in this country. Ask him if he earned the right to live in this police state run by capitalist pigs. I'm a veteran; I actually earned the right to live in this filthy country. Did you, Charles?
So if you ask this gabacho, I think Charles Drengberg should go back to were he came from, and then his mother should have her cunt surgically sealed.
Stop this adjective-spewing vermin from writing. Ever. If I wanted flowery narrative, I would read Emerson or Tolkien, not a GODDAMN food review. Does anyone read his crap, let alone edit it?!? You have editors, no? I, nor anyone I know, have been able to finish ONE of his articles. Not because we're ADD or illiterate, but because this person uses extraneous words to get a few simple points across. I want to know how the food is, not the ambient lighting of the friggin' LIGHT FIXTURES. The wall texture has nothing to do with me shoving food in my face. JUST. STOP.