One hates when critic and artist come into contact. Imagine Steven Soderberg pissing all over Roger Ebert, if you don't agree. But from time to time the twain meet. For example, today, Jack posts a letter recently sent to him. Worth a read.
Apologies for delays in our production. Once again we forgot our password. Furthermore, union issues.
In the elapsed time, Jack has continued his sparring with Hollywood, although with somewhat less vulgarity than has been typical. Good use of the net instead of the trident, we declare. One might have hoped for a spoiler alert, however, should one wish (unwisely! -ed.) to see "The Ladykillers." Perhaps Jack imagines he is doing the reader a service by ruining the end. Which raises troubling issues of the author as Godhead - should we cede to him the right to determine our futures, rather than using him as one uses a guidepost? The working metaphor here would demand a guidepost jumping into the road and blocking a sojourner's way!
One thing we enjoyed from "The Ladykillers" was the Nappy Roots songs.
