Dear Reader editors:
In your article "What Stinks . . . Don't Say We Didn't Warn You" [August 23], you left out the essential item that truly stinks in this town . . . the Chicago Reader. If you feel these comments are adolescent just remember . . . you reap what you sow.
Try: To find this Caucasian, yuppie-based paper south of Hyde Park.
Sit: In your shower for 40 minutes after reading a newspaper that bleeds more ink than a pen left in a dryer.
See: Desperate readers of this newspaper wait for hours in front of the LaSalle and Madison bin. Then attack like wolves when the pimply-faced delivery boy arrives, only because the distribution of these papers (what is the technical term . . . ) sucks!
Wade: Through the endless stream of ads in this paper for products and restaurants in areas most of your "tragically hip" readers would not set foot in.
Cringe: At reading pompous, self-absorbed critics and journalists (some of who are upset that they could not make it in the real industry they are critiquing) rail on subjects that they have no inkling about.
Be warned: New readers, that Adam Langer hates everything. If Mr. Langer has such a loathing for theater as a whole, switch to the food section. The joke among readers of this paper is: (1) If Mr. Langer hates the show . . . it must be decent. (2) If he gives the show a wishy-washy review . . . it's great. (3) If he loves it . . . don't spend the money on the ticket.
Remember: When this publication was on the cutting edge? In the heyday mid-80s before Section Three was turned into a 1-800-I'M HORNY line?
The only saving grace about this bulky publication is it's free. Of course you get what you pay for.
Don't say I didn't warn you.