Monday, March 8, 2010

ELR Fan Mail #5

I wish I could put this strange encounter behind me, but journalistic integrity compels me to post the following letter.


Dear Esoteric Literary POSER [sic],

I can't believe you posted a semi-dramatized version of the verbal beat-up I administered to you last week. (I say 'beat-up' because everyone else would say 'beat-down', and I am different from and therefore better than everyone else.) Actually I can believe you posted it, because you're the biggest poser I've ever met.

Even your faux-obscure blog title reveals how big of a poser you are. Esoteric? No, you poser, you are not esoteric. You wish. You are, in fact, exoteric. Everyone understands your blog because it's run-of-the-mill, just like you are. And anyone who looks at your snaps knows it.

When you think about it (which you won't, because your mind is too mainstream to begin to conceive of things the way I do), I should be the one with an esoteric blog. I am esoteric. And believe me, you poser, when I say that if I had a blog I would post the most random and mind-boggling content you had ever seen. Except you wouldn't see it, because my blog would actually be esoteric, so that only about six people in the entire world would be able to appreciate it. But even they wouldn't read it, because they'd be too real to lower themselves to read something as ubiquitous and pedestrian as a blog. Plus, I'm too busy being deliberately contrarian to ever start a blog (which from now on I will call a 'bleeg'. Only I can use this word).

I don't expect you to write back to this letter and/or post it on your bleeg. But if you do, I bet it will be in the least original way possible, like in a plural third person. As if anyone else but poser you maintains this (un-ironic) joke of a site.

If I were you, I'd kill myself...except I wouldn't, because suicide is so poser...except I would, because I'd be you and you're a poser. Go watch Avatar and drink a Coke, you plebeian.


Authentically,

"Bearded Gaffing Hipster"
(a.k.a. Ripley LaDouche - my real, genuine, unique name)


Dear Mr. LaDouche,

We at Esoteric Literary Reference appreciate all feedback we receive about the site. Thank you for your correspondence!

We don't know how you found the blog. Nor do we know how you found Steve the other day when you were so randomly but purposefully cruel. But we do know that you read the blog, and for that we applaud you!

We're so glad that something we posted resonated with you. We're sure you'll be happy to learn that you're not alone. In fact, we've received hundreds of letters from other people who enjoyed the very same post you enjoyed. After all, that's our goal: connecting on a personal level with as many people as possible.

In our twenty-nine year history, we've discovered that there are certain fundamental truths about the human condition that people need and want to see displayed and uncovered in various artistic media over and over again. The post you connected with spoke to the need for individual identity within the context of a conforming society. Pressure to be like everyone else in our socio-economic circles can be overwhelming at times, but it's important to strike a balance between maintaining our selfhood and retreating from culture entirely.

Hopefully the post gave you some food for thought, LaDouche.

Try not to suck all the time,
Esoteric Literary Reference Letter Reply Dept.
(Steve)


P.S. - You used the word 'bleeg'. We don't know what that means.

3 comments:

Josh said...

Please tell me that this isn't real. How on earth could he have found your blog? Also, who the hell uses the word "bleeg"? That message could not have been real. If it was, I think that your LaDouche hipster buddy quite literally represents his last name. Also unbelievably ironic.

Anonymous said...

Herein one sees the autothelic character of nonverbal communication, which at times does become personal. Why are we, and if so, why not?

In an unrelated matter, what is a catrom? Google must know.

Steve said...

I have no idea how he found my bleeg. Scary, right? He also found my phone number and called me to tell me I was watching TV incorrectly.

I suppose the interaction was rewarding solely in itself for me and probably for him. Though I'm not sure it would have been as rewarding had it not incorporated oral communication of some kind.

A catrom, or feline read-only memory, is an furry device for storing digital information. Google does not know this.