(These letters are real. About their authors: We do not know Joel Roston, but we do know Marc Herman, who is a writer, and at the time of the letter-writing was irritated.)
DEAR MCSWEENEY’S,
Having read the article, “Current Band Names Wondered About,” by Jack Vaughn, I could not help but notice that the author has failed to recognize a valid explanation of the title “Bullets for Pussy.” In the essay, I was made to believe that the name was used to imply a system of barter or trade (e.g., I will gladly offer a satisfactory number of bullets for the opportunity to pierce the thin delicate skin of one vagina with my presumably erect penis). I believe this to be an inaccurate explanation.
I offer this: I believe that the title is meant to imply a provocative threat. In the spirit of such phrases as, “Here’s a little kiss for daddy,” or, “How about a little tongue for Mommy’s rash,” often heard falling from the clenched lips of stargazing lovers, I believe that the name “Bullets for Pussy” is to be viewed in the same light. One can see the parallels (“kiss for daddy,” “tongue for mommy’s rash,” “bullets for pussy”). The bullets can even be viewed as a metaphor for the discharge emitted during times when such events transpire.
From yet another perspective, perhaps “Pussy” is a nickname. In this day and age, we know that addressing people by their genitals is an unacceptable form of communication. However, the punk rock movement has, since its birth, prided itself on moving against the grain. “Pussy” therefore could be a person, not the organ, with this “Pussy” person being the recipient of the bullets.
An even more interesting approach would be to view the vaginal organ as a weapon itself. It can be understood that the bullets, once obtained, will be held firmly in place by the vaginal walls and fired at unsuspecting victims. In this scenario, the cervical mucous would function as a sort of gun powder, filling in gaps and creating a vacuum of sorts, pushing air out of the opening and consequently propelling the lead fragments toward a decided target.
The final question that I have concerning this topic is the term “pussy,” and exactly to what physical characteristics it is ascribed. In parlance, a “pussy” is the actual vaginal opening. In a phrase as ambiguous as “Bullets for Pussy,” we must be a bit clearer. It is in many cases possible to apply the term “pussy” to the entire vulvic region. This of course would include an area, not excluding the clitoris, labia (both majora and minora), vagina and perineum. Throw the anus in there if you want. The point is, I think that you should do a little more thinking before you shovel your uninformed drivel into the brown, trampled field of the public’s eye.
Joel Roston
Middletown, Connecticut
P.S. Upon reading this response to my lover, I was introduced to yet another interesting vew. She believes that the “Bullets” are proponents of pussy (i.e., if there were an election, the bullets would be in favor of pussy and offer their full support).
DEAR MCSWEENEY’S
Recently, several attempts to circumnavigate the globe by hot air balloon have spectacularly failed. These failures are reported in too much detail, with too much heroic subtext, and only encourage further ill-conceived attempts.
It is not that I am against circumnavigation of the Earth with out-of-date technology, broadly. The Whitbread around-the-world sailing race is inspiring, I think, and more so is the Around Alone event, a similar contest for solo sailors (the Whitbread boats have crews). Motorcycling from Paris to Dakar on a ’50s Vincent to prove that newer motorcycles are overkill, riding the Oregon Trail in a wagon train to commemorate a centennial; kayaking the Amazon, floating from Ecuador to Polynesia on a raft for anthropological reasons, or even just cycling across North America on a personal, less spectacular trip, are all things worth doing, I agree. And the reasons to tilt at these windmills are the same as they have been since we started doing it, perhaps the last hundred years or so — to keep in touch with our ability to be resourceful and brave as our need for such bravery shifts from obvious settings of the past, like the ocean or the plains, toward subtler settings, like hospital beds or apartment complexes.
These balloon rides are a tinny excuse for exploration and generally seem selfish, however.
In these cases, the crashes that seem to come every few months now are often the result of cavalier planning, rather than bad luck. Which is not notable. Getting yourself out of a fix you wouldn’t have encountered in the first place if you’d thought about it for the briefest moment, is not heroic or instructive, of course.
The balloonists, bobbing along on the jetstream, seem to miss this. Recently, for example, two of them flew over Iraq during the "Desert Fox " US missile attack. They then skirted a narrow corridor dangerously close to the Chinese border when China refused permission for an overflight, then crashed not much later in the Pacific. None of these things – flying through the missile salvos, threading the needle past China’s border, and surviving the crash into the ocean – are worth writing about in the newspaper. The story in each is 1) blundering into a dangerous war zone and not having the sense or humility to get out of the way, 2) demanding a visa for an endeavor that is of no benefit whatsoever, and likely some headache, to the country from which you are requesting the visa, and feeling entitled to it because of the grandness of your plans, 3) forcing several members of one rescue service or another to perform a dangerous mission to save you from your own hubris.
All of this gets reported as stick-to-it-iveness. After the latest crash, British balloonists Andy Elson and Colin Prescot ditching off Japan’s southern coast March 7th (their balloon had sponsor Cable and Wireless’ name on the side. Great PR, having your name on a deflating balloon), came the typical pictures published of themselves hanging gamely to their basket as it floated in the water, waiting to be plucked to safety by a Japanese rescue team. Which begs the question: if a trapeze artist falls, but lands in a net, isn’t the real hero the person who made such a good net?
I hope no one tries this any more. The rescue helicopters are already too busy.
Marc Herman
Alameda, California
