January 8, 1986
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Please allow me to state (with utmost sincerity) that you, Critic Peter Margasak, embody a rare and unfortunate type of human being (and I use the term lightly)–the sort that if actually found alone with a rooftop view at sunset, would have absolutely nothing to say. Nothing good, anyway [Spot Check, January 5]. But there are people who can help. People like me. I’d love to share that rooftop view with you someday. Just the two of us. Then perhaps you’d understand how truly sensitive a guy can be. My God. At this very moment I’m getting all fucking misty just thinking about sharing a ledge with you.
The fact is, Pete, I could never deny you the right to express your opinions and critiques, however mean-spirited and misguided. But at least I can say my critiques are aimed at myself. Aimed at my own career–my own demons–my own life. As opposed to, say, my being paid to proliferate a smug and malicious agenda aimed at a public quite capable of making its own judgments and forming its own opinions. I could never embrace a livelihood rooted in ill-informed and/or biased critiques of another’s livelihood. (Maybe I’m too sensitive.)
Peep
