To the editors:
You will be well within your rights to take Hot Type columnist Michael Miner's own advice (December 11) and to evaluate whether or not it is cost-effective to keep that column around. A full page of ads . . . for that matter, a blank page, would be more refreshingly honest and thought-provoking--not to mention financially rewarding--than the cluttered jumble of the "subliterary lambkin" that now parades across page four of the Reader.
Journalism not only offends the editorial us when it is empty posturing, Michael. It also offends that other us. But dealing analytically with issues of substance seems to be out of your league, Michael, though your persistence and perseverance is certainly worthy of mention.
Your column might be dismissed as vapid and predigested pap, catering to and titillating, I must assume, the uninquiring minds of those whose lifetime agendas include decisions of no greater import than whether to drive the BMW or the Mercedes on any given day, were it not for the fact that vast numbers of people right here in Chicago must daily live that "bigger agenda" that Vernon Jarrett not only "devotes his whole life to," but must live, as well, if you catch my drift, Michael.
Chicagoans will be fortunate, indeed, to find another man of Harold Washington's stature, judgment, and vision willing to lead this city. If, in the course of a week as politically charged as was the week of Washington's death, Miner can find nothing more noteworthy to say than to speciously assign blame and to lambaste the dreams and hopes of the majority (remember your civics, Michael) of the voters of this city, then may I suggest you slink back into your closet, Michael, and spare us from your empty posturing?