To the editors:
I am entirely in agreement with Michael Koplow's "pogrom pique" with Anthony Adler [Letters, January 4], and find the latter's response as persuasive as a fart in a windstorm, to keep this on the plane of Adler's use of metaphor. How one manages to make a pogrom "psychic" or, especially, "good-natured," is going beyond metaphor into metaplasia.
And what, exactly, is a "psychic pogrom," the absurd "good-natured" aside? Is that like a "psychic hard on"? One in which the "psychic pineal gland" is excited into "psychic orgasm"? (I could go on like this for days, but it's too boring.)
I have, in any case, a solution for Adler's problem: to wit, let him burn a C----mas (lest the very word itself offend) tree on his lawn each night of the twelve days of C----mas, thereby signifying both deeply layered metaphorical and ironical associations. He could, as well, move to Israel where they'll check his dick to see if he's a REAL Jew. Or to Iran, where they'll not only check his dick but cut it off.
As a practitioner of "all-pervasive yule-mania" that C----ians are so despicably apt to do in a C----ian country, please accuse me, in having written this letter in which I not so subtly tell Adler to kiss my C----ian ass, of being anti-Semitic because it's been weeks since I've been accused of being so, and I kind of miss it.
Yours in C----,