Letters

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To the editor:
I found your recent Kwanzaa article (“Make Your Kwanzaa Observance Fly as Hell,” The Heckler’s Seventh Annual Kikombe-tastic Kwanzaa Issue, Dec 2006) totally erroneous. First, Kwanzaa does not celebrate the birth of Wayne Brady. It was started in 1966 by a black nationalist as an alternative holiday to Christmas for African Americans. Second, celebrants do not commit arson, but rather light candles. Third, it is not traditional to sacrifice a giraffe and chicken-fry its neck meat in order to be good at basketball in the next year. I’m pretty sure you’re racist.

Kwame Johnson
MSB ’10

The Heckler regrets these errors. Wayne Brady Day is, of course, a national holiday that is observed on June 2. And no, we aren’t racist, we just needed an excuse to commit arson and kill giraffes from December 26th to January 1st.

To the editor:
Hey guys. Great cover story on global warming last week (“Hot Enough For Ya?,” Feb. 2007). I never realized how much of what we hear is just liberal “junk science”. The problem is, my friends keep telling me you’re wrong, and higher temperatures aren’t really caused by the muffled screams of Terri Schiavo. Some of them are even implying that I must be a phenomenal retard to believe this shit. Who should I trust?

Jeremy Rifkin
SFS ’07

Sorry to break this to you, Jeremy, but your friends are idiots. Believe what you want, but when your precious “scientist” friends at the New York Times launch their Beer Hall Putsch against America, don’t come crying to us for a brand new feeding tube.

To the editor:
I loved your look at the new Democratic majority in Congress (“Donkeys Throw a Punch,” Jan. 2007). Those were some fascinating profiles! One question, though: are you absolutely sure Barney Frank cut the throat of that Malaysian hooker? I don’t remember hearing about that before.

Timothy Gleason
COL ’09

Barney knows what he did, Tim. This is between him and God now. Just remember: nobody runs forever, Mr. Frank. Nobody runs forever.

To the editor:
What is wrong with you people? First it was the threatening letters, then the razor blades under my pillow, and now this thing about a dead Malaysian prostitute? I can’t even close my eyes anymore. Last night I saw one of your reporters hiding in my azalea bushes, and when I woke up there was horse blood on my carpet. My own mother won’t return my phone calls. Jesus, why are you doing this to me?

Barney Frank
Not Enrolled

Sorry, Mr. Frank, but it’s too late to apologize. Making enemies with the Heckler was your first mistake. Letting us see your ATM code was your second. Hold on tight, Mr. Frank. It’s going to be a wild ride.