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Bashed Skull

I read with great interest Henry Flesh's piece "Boning Up: The Resurrection of Soft Skull Press" ("Books," 10/1). In August 1999, then-publisher Sander Hicks struck a deal with my agent, Jim Fitzgerald?who can be seen working with Hicks in Horns and Halos, the documentary about Soft Skull?to buy my book Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon. I was delighted. Every mainstream publisher in New York had turned down the book, usually because they considered it too controversial.

Hicks and Soft Skull seemed perfect, almost too good to be true. By September 2000, Nowhere Man was a best-seller in the U.S. But a month later, when my first royalty check was due, Hicks refused to pay. He said, among other things, that he needed the money to "fight for the working class." Eventually, I was forced to sue Hicks and Soft Skull, not only for nonpayment, but also for selling rights they didn't own. Soon after Hicks left, Soft Skull settled and returned all rights, which were immediately sold to another publisher.

Hicks, who portrays himself as a socialist revolutionary, succeeded in turning an international best-seller into the worst trauma of my 30-year career in publishing. I'm very glad that Richard Nash is now running the company. He appears to be an honorable man, and I wish him the best.

Robert Rosen, Manhattan

Say Hello to My Little?

Having read Armond White for years, I've always tolerated his preening style and his sentimental babbling about the underdog. But with his stump speech on the significance of Scarface ("Film," 10/1), I decided enough is enough. His celebration of the record sales of the rerelease is Hollywooden and flies in the face of his assertion, repeated ad nauseam throughout his columns, that depth and moral rectitude are not rewarded by popularity.

Indeed, any clear-eyed observer knows that "bourgeois culture" has been napping the last few decades (some would say longer); but what really have "Afro-Caribbean Americans" done in the wake of Scarface? Judging from the charades of Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, there is no black political movement. And Latinos have merely used the civil rights achievements of blacks to leap-frog into their own version of Tammany Hall provincialism.

White's sentimentalizing of the hiphop "esthetic" conveniently avoids the fact that the fetishizing of street knowledge has only worsened schools and corrupted manners while offering nothing except the sedative of bourgeois materialism. And so with Scarface, the dispossessed celebrate not an original theme, but one expounded more beautifully and constructively by dead white men.

Michael Lipscomb, Bronx

Too Much Natty Boh

When I read MUGGER each week, I invariably feel like a fly on the wall of a Federalist Society meeting, or some such other conservative group, where I get to hear thoughts tossed around that they would never say in public for fear of being laughed out of town.

Russ Smith uses four full paragraphs to develop the punchline that "I do love, however, the wacky 'economist' including himself in the ranks of 'ordinary people' who can't get decent medical care" (10/1). He only includes himself with "Americans [who] accept such differences [in wealth] cheerfully." He does not pretend to be someone "who can't get decent medical care."

Maybe that Baltimore air is getting to his brain.

Rob Ladislaw, Manhattan

Hell Freezes Over: Part One

Congrats on finally getting some content in your paper that isn't totally vacuous or redundant. This "Best Of" was far better than the normal issues?you should let Zaitchik do more political writing?so maybe there's hope for you. (Unlikely.)

I think it needs to be pointed out that the large volume of "this city is fucking dead" complaints in your rag is disingenuous because New York Press helped City Hall and big business destroy this town. To this day, even Koyen doesn't want to expose government corruption, which is exactly how the government and major corporations sucked the life out of NYC. I warned you guys for a decade that your hero mayor, Rudy Giuliani, was the greatest enemy NYC had ever faced and that the "good times" were a facade, and you laughed at me.

Even Koyen continued uber-moron Russ Smith's practice of praising Giuliani (sometimes inadvertently), and to this day he still blames Bloomberg for most of Giuliani's crimes. Giuliani is making millions of dollars solely for running away from Ground Zero (I've got the video), while the real heroes aren't getting $100,000 a speech for their stories.

If Koyen is unhappy with the state of this city, then he should shut up and put up, and help us beat the living shit out of our completely brainless City Hall. (Maybe he can even endorse my run for mayor in 2005.) What's it gonna be?

Christopher X. Brodeur, Manhattan

Tracy: Chapped Man

Matt Taibbi: I actually enjoyed your column ("Cage Match," 10/1). Next time, lose the blast about the 29-year-old campaign worker and the 50-year-old crack whore. It's not necessary, and nobody cares about the guy's need to get over on another loser.

Tracy Meadows, Brenham, TX

Dispatch from America's Wang

Good afternoon, editors. I just had an article forwarded to me from your newspaper regarding the Rumblers ("Best Sorority," Best of Manhattan, 9/24). My, oh my, the writer seems to have a big beef with us. When I say "us," I guess I should be more specific. I'm the president of the Orlando Rumblers. My name's Nadeem Khan, I'm 42, not all that flabby, but I'm by no means a Chuck Zito. And yeah, my fighting days are over.

I'm married with two children; I guess that kinda negates any inherent homosexuality in my makeup, but it could be a ruse. I've been known to be devious. I guess wearing my club shirt or jacket could be taken as dressing up or being in a gang. I guess the fact that I've been building/restoring/hotrodding/fucking up cars and motorsickles for way over half of my life could be construed as narcissistic.

But perhaps if looked at in simple terms it could be what it is?passion. Pure and simple. Now I can't speak for every member of every chapter of our club, but the writer certainly painted us all with a very broad brush. I ask you, is that the right thing to do?

I suppose there is a bright side to this. The Hell's Angels, for whom the writer has a great deal of respect, were prominently in attendance at the Brooklyn show. Maybe the HAs respect us even if the writer doesn't.

I, for one, had a great time being with my brothers in NY as I do every year. "Brotherhood"?weird, huh? I didn't see anybody that looked like Lenny or Squiggy, but one of our members does resemble Bowser.

Nadeem Khan, Orlando, FL

But, But, We're Siding with the Brown People!

A friend brought my attention to the "brown people" segment ("Best Way to Keep Brown People Out of Your Park," Best of Manhattan, 9/24) in your "Best of Manhattan" issue, and I must say I found it dismaying. I can only hope that the writer was making an attempt at sarcastic humor, but from where I'm standing (with as open a mind as possible) it seems pretty racist.

Even if this is meant to be funny, the repetition of offensive stereotypes and derogatory language is hurtful and unsettling. If a bigot read this, I don't believe they would feel under fire, but affirmed in their hatred of people of color.

I hope that in the future, New York Press will try to be a little more sensitive to such issues. If you have to sacrifice humor for clarity, then please, so be it.

Ari Moore, Manhattan

Deep Space Fine

To everyone who selected Deep Space for your Best of Manhattan issue ("Best Party to get Blunted At," Best of Manhattan, 9/24), thank you for all the kind words you wrote about Deep Space featuring François K. We appreciate the acknowledgement and all the coverage New York Press has given to us. I hope you'll come down and visit us more often. Keep up the great work.

Erica Ruben, Producer, Deep Space

Yeah, Yeah, See Last Week's Mail

My devotion to New York Press is exceeded only by my devotion to Dominick DeMarco's superb pizza artisanship. Thus I was dismayed to note that my favorite alt-weekly's editorial staff seems to think Avenue J, and with it DiFara , is in Bay Ridge ("Best Bay Ridge Slice," Best of Manhattan, 9/24). As a resident of the bizarre gray-area non-neighborhood directly above Avenue J (I don't know whether to call it Ditmas Park, West Flatbush, Kensington or North Midwood), I have always felt a vague sense of reassurance whenever I make the six-block trek to DiFara's, because it is very soundly located in a capital-N Neighborhood?a neighborhood that is a good five miles northeast of Bay Ridge by any map. If there's any place in Brooklyn that screams Midwood more clearly than Avenue J, specifically the few blocks of Avenue J bordering DiFara's, I certainly don't know about it. Semantically and geographically correctly yours,

Jessica Liese, Brooklyn

Nice Mouth

Jeff Koyen: Who the hell dubbed you pageant expert ("Dusk Patrol," 9/3)? Just wondering? You have the views of a twisted fat man angry at the world because your mother doomed you to a life of ugliness. Seriously, who the fuck do you think you are, criticizing these girls? Think a little more before you write.

Sasha Nicole Miller, Boston

eBay

I'm halfway through your "Best of Manhattan" issue, which is off the hook! But I didn't see anything about "Best Place to Score Vintage 80s T-shirts." I was wondering if you could recommend any places. I'm looking for a few vintage t-shirts for a friend's birthday.

Yolanda Atkins, Brooklyn

Booming Babies

How refreshing it was to read Michelangelo Signorile's article regarding the negative side to the baby boom trend that has taken over this city ("The Gist," 9/24).

I heard on tv the other night that babies are the new fashion accessory. Judging by what I see every day, this is no joke. Taking the subway to work every morning is like riding on a school bus. Parents burst into the subway car and expect adults to jump up and give their seats to kids clearly old enough to stand. Guilty-feeling fools oblige them and never get a thank-you from parent or child.

As for parents "who drag their kids to every damned place in town," me and my husband have had many a romantic candlelit dinner spoiled in Manhattan restaurants by screaming babies and restless toddlers. I believe that making voting parents happy is the real reason behind Bloomberg's ban on smoking in bars and restaurants. Whatever happened to parents taking their kids to McDonald's?

Cheryl Watts, Riverdale, NY

Panty Raid on Armond

I am perturbed by one seemingly insignificant error in Armond White's review of Lost in Translation ("Film," 9/10): He mistakenly refers to the sheer pink panties in the first shot as pantyhose. Let it be noted that those are in fact panties, and what is so troubling about them is the fact that they look simple and cheap, but a woman who doesn't spend a lot on underwear knows that buying such delicate, gauzy, transparent cotton panties costs a handsome sum. (Sofia Coppola reveals in an article published in USA Today that the underwear is in fact made by the high-end brand Araks.)

That is the lie contained in the opening image: What appears simple and intimate is actually a picture of gross extravagance. I wholeheartedly agree with White when he writes that "American isolationism is the essence of self-absorbed people with nothing but time and money on their hands." Just thought I'd point out the relevant distinction, in this case, between regular pink pantyhose and pricey pink panties.

Tamara Lecker, Manhattan

Ban Man

I have not "gotten over" Mayor Bloomberg's ban on smoking ("The Mail," 10/1), nor do I expect to. I am not a smoker, and worked as a biostatistician cancer researcher, and whether or not you accept the second-hand numbers (I don't), this is a still a choice issue for bar owners and bar-goers.

But, as much as I spent more time than I care to admit in the fleshpots of the Deuce, and the dubious constitutionality of the boob-ban, the area is renovated and upscaled, and the tax base is increased, so fewer boobs equals more (non-boob) jobs. Notwithstanding the absence of good data on neighborhood blight. Now the New York Times there, that's blight! Funny how one ban is annoying, and another ban is not.

Woody Allen asked if we remembered when sex was dirty and air was clean. Ah, consenting adults.

Martin Heilweil, Manhattan

A League of Our Own

MUGGER: I've been an avid reader of yours for years, and one shining memory I have of your column was when you ran a picture of Alfalfa from the Lil' Rascals with the caption: Young Tom Daschle?

But I must take issue with your statement (which I've heard all over baseball circles this year) that Matsui is not really a rookie (MUGGER, 10/1), because he played in Japan. American MLB is "the show." People leave the MLB and go to Japan when their careers are in trouble, not the other way around. That's why it's still the "World Series."

This is the world's premier baseball forum. If you can make it here... well you know. Hideo Nomo and Ichiro (two short years ago) have been honored with the Jackie Robinson Rookie of the Year award. Where was the outrage at their "professional" experience? Oh, they weren't Yankees. The friggin' award is named after Jackie Robinson, who played in the professional American Negro League. Should he have been ineligible? It's obvious anti-Yankeee bias, understandable from the seethingly bitter Red Sox nation, but that ain't Matsui's fault. He's played exceptionally in the real "show," and he deserves his honor for it.

Other than that, keep up the good work. Don't lay off the Times. You're the unofficial ombudsman.

Anthony L. Fisher, Brooklyn

Lake Woebegone, NH

There is nothing new under the New Hampshire sun ("Cage Match," 10/1) when it comes to our glorious First In The Nation Presidential Primary (actually, we prefer that all of the letters in that phrase be uppercase, if you don't mind). The candidates do the same thing, even when they're not the same candidates. Is Dick Gephardt doing something not done by Adlai Stevenson? When Bush was here in 1999, he went to Joe's Barbershop on the Milford Oval, as did everyone else since 1951, because it's expected.

What they never do is come to the small towns. Here's my vision: One day, a candidate chooses to campaign in Lyndeborough, where I live, a town of 1585, according to the latest census figures.

He, or she, could shake hands with people stopping for coffee at the Village Store, although it would be best to wait until after 8 a.m. Those who stop for coffee prior to eight are on their way to work, or hunting or fishing, and don't have a lot of time to discuss Iraq. A nice photo-op exists across the street with our non-working town cannon. (Incidentally, the cannon is rolled out only on July 4, Memorial Day and perhaps Veterans' Day, but I'm not certain.)

The problem this year is the dearth of Democrats in Lyndeborough?there is my wife, but she has to work?so the "crowds" at the cannon photo-op might be a bit sparse. And by February, if she's smart, my wife will have reregistered as a Republican because, in New Hampshire, there is absolutely no reason to vote in the Democratic primary because there aren't an awful lot of Democrats fighting for any particular nomination. Indeed, if you know of a Democrat who'd like to run for trustee of the trust funds in Lyndeborough, let somebody know.

The Libertarians down the street from me might drop by, just to heckle. They do it well and are desperately hoping that Hillary runs in 2008 because they already have their heckles prepared. Indeed, they might be driven to travel to Manchester to heckle her there if she, like so many before her, eschews Lyndeborough.

Taibbi should be aware, too, that on Oct. 11, many of the candidates will flee Manchester to wander the Milford Great Pumpkin Festival, shaking hands, kissing babies and, undoubtedly, sampling pumpkin dishes.

Come on Friday night. We have someone who, each year, opens the festival while wearing a (fake, unfortunately) pumpkin upon his head. Indeed, in this week's issue of the newspaper I edit, we will feature his photo. Well, a photo of him with a pumpkin upon his head because, after all, we don't want the kids to think that Pumpkin Man isn't real.

They're already worried that Al Sharpton, who has yet to come to town, is just a legend.

Michael Cleveland, Lyndeborough, NH