i just don't get it. liz really *has* lost her mind. it's almost like the courtney love/vanity fair freakshow without the 4am prank phone calls, although that can't be proven at this juncture... ----- Original Message ----- From: "Michael Bennett" To: Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 4:53 PM Subject: Liz UnPhair? > I read this letter to the editor from Ms. Phair in the NY Times yesterday, > in response to a negative review last Sunday. Someone on another list > posted this. While I want to keep an open mind on the record, and don't > want to let the negative pub affect my judgment, this letter makes me think > Liz is a thin skinned loser prima donna twit. -- Mike Bennett > http://www.nytimes.com/2003/06/29/arts/29MAIL.html > > LETTERS > > LIZ PHAIR > Chicken Little's Tale > To the Editor: > > Re "Liz Phair's Exile in Avril-ville" by Meghan O'Rourke [June 22]: > > Once upon a time there was a writer named Chicken Little. Chicken Little > worked very hard and took her job very seriously. Often, she even wrote. One > day, just as Chicken Little was about to have an idea, she heard something > falling on her roof. "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" she shrieked, > spilling green tea and vodka all over her work station. This commotion awoke > her three readers, who lived with her in her hut, and all three rushed > outside to see what had happened to the sky. After enduring several anxious > minutes alone, Chicken Little was relieved to see her readers return. "Oh, > Chicken Little, it was just the trees dropping their buds on a beautiful > spring day," they said. Chicken Little tried not to show her disappointment. > > Not long after, as Chicken Little was poring over some back issues of other > writers' material, she felt another idea about to form in her mind. "Truth . > . . no . . . Lies . . . no . . . ummm . . . ummm . . . Conspiracy!" She was > just about to write this down, when a great clattering and scraping began > above her head. Clutching her PC to her breast, she swung her head wildly to > and fro. "The sky is falling! This time, the sky is falling! The sky is > falling!" She meant to alert her readers. She felt very responsible for > them. They played outdoors, mostly, and had very open minds. The three > readers rushed back into the hut, very concerned, and when they saw the look > of dread on Chicken Little's sweet face and her finger pointing skyward, > trembling, they immediately turned around and rushed back out to see what > was the matter. For a few breathless moments, they could neither confirm nor > deny, then they all saw the same thing at once. "Chicken Little," said the > readers, "it's only two squirrels chasing each other in amorous conquest, > skittering over the eave of our house." "It's quite funny, actually," added > one of the readers, "you should come and see." But Chicken Little was > annoyed. "I have work to do!" she fumed. "Besides, I wasn't speaking to you. > I was performing a haiku," she fibbed, faxing something. > > Well, time passed, and the readers grew, and so did Chicken Little, but not > very much. The light inside the hut was dim, and she worked in a huddled > position for long hours. She grew paranoid. She began to think she wasn't > sure anymore. She began to fear she didn't know. Then, just as her resolve > was nearly wiped away clean, she heard a sound that was not very loud. She > cocked her head from side to side, her little neck pouch jiggling, and > pecked at a few pebbles lying around her desk. Yes, the sound was definitely > there. In fact, it was coming from all sides now, the sound of a million > tiny things dropping on her roof. She peeked out her window and saw a > million tiny things dropping from the sky. All her chicken senses gathered > in supreme vindication. She opened her throat as wide as it would go and > crowed, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling! By God, any moron can see > the sky is falling!" > > The peacefully sleeping readers were aroused, but did not pay attention > anymore, so used to her hysteria were they by now that her crowing became > one more familiar noise in the chattering nighttime forest. > > "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" Chicken Little screeched, > terrified they would not heed her and would be found the next morning, > buried among the intellectual debris. She pecked and pecked at them with her > sharp little beak until they finally agreed to be awakened. The three > readers rose up and shuffled outside to be greeted by a warm, summer rain > falling steady as a heartbeat, wondrous and quiet as unexpected relief from > pain. "Why, Chicken Little," said one reader, "it's only a summer shower > come to feed the land. It feels great!" Chicken Little cowered in the corner > as a fork of lightning licked the trees. "It's dangerous!" she cried, "you > could slip on the wetness! You could catch a nasty cold! You could get > electrocuted!" The three readers laughed, and went back out to experience > the mystery of the storm, without thinking, without deconstructing, without > checking what the other would do first. "Listen to me! Listen to me!" cried > Chicken Little, as she watched their backs turn. The three readers stopped > at the door and called out before leaving: "C'mon, Chicken Little. Hurry up, > you're gonna miss it!" > > LIZ PHAIR > Manhattan Beach, Calif. > Meghan O'Rourke's review of Liz Phair's new album, "Liz Phair," is online at > www.nytimes.com/lizphair. > > > > > > Record reviews and more at http://fufkin.com > > _________________________________________________________________ > Tired of spam? 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