The Screwup Letters

This following exchange took place via email between Nathan Carter and myself.

From: Nathan CarterImg_0208
To: Jeffery Simpson
Subject: A Nidea

Hi Kelly

If we ever form another Rock Band band, we should call it "The Grade Ten Birds"

Hugs,
Nathan

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From: Jeffery
To: Nathan
Subject: Re: A Nidea

Ha ha.

Or Dr. Pants and His Lonely Flute Section.

Sent from my iPhone

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Img_2722
From:
Nathan

To:
Jeffery

Subject:
Re: A Nidea

That's a very poignant and filthy name, sir.  I enjoy it.
Someone from the "internet", someone whose eBay feedback explains
exactly how long I had to wait for shipping, is offering me money in a
bid to buy his reputation back with the removal of my feedback (Oh no!
He's only at 99.3% positive).  No-one buys my love!

Or how about: "Miles Kilometers and The Way Home"

Nathaaka

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Img_2689
From:
Jeffery


To:
Nathan


Subject:
Re: A Nidea

"Miles Kilometers and The Way Home"

That's an album title you sick bastard.  How dare you attempt to trick me into giving a band an album name.  Imagine if U2 were instead named The Joshua Trees or the Under A Blood Red Skies?  It would be foolish and nobody would know who Bono was and he'd have never been able to save Africa with his smile.

If you keep this shit up we might have to dissolve our friendship and start a new relationship as enemies.

---

Img_1850
From:
Nathan


To:
Jeffery


Subject:
Re: A Nidea

Perhaps we are up against a brain anomaly.  The Way Home.  You're
right, that rings a bell.  Whose album be it?  Unless you're serious
about initiating enmity, I suggest continuing friendship and an
amended name: "Miles Kilometers and the Roasted Hopes"

Captain Dander

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Img_0058_2
From:
Jeffery


To:
Nathan


Subject:
Re: A Nidea


Gak.  You must be a brain anomaly.  I think we call in Gene Rodenberry and get him to write an episode of Star Trek based on your inability to concieve the difference between a band name and an album title.  "Miles Kilometers and The Way Home" is clearly an album title.  It is not, to my keen ken, a currently existing album title but it is indeed an album title.  It has that vibe. 

I do not want to dissolve our friendship like so many slugs under salt in a White Rock backyard, but you are forcing my hand with your ninny-ness.

Look.  I've had to do this to prove you wrong.  Here are some band names and some album titles that I've made up.

Band Names:

Rocket Red and the Glory Wheels
The Dreamers
Vampire
88 Keys
The Lovers of Paper

Album Titles:

'Round Aboot Here
Until the Squids Came Home
Crab Pot Sickness
Aligator Al Runs My Pawn Shop
Fuck You It's Broked

Are you clear now?

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Img_2735From: Nathan


To:
Jeffery


Subject:
Re: A Nidea

Crab Pot Sickness it is.  Now i'm the one convinced, and you're the
one being painted as a brain-deficient anomaly - I'm at least 60% sure
there's something (someone's band) called "The Way Home".  I will
prove it one day and make you sick with envy!  I'll make you sick with
crab pots!  I'll make you eat that snake and ladder!

Be sweet
Be kind,
Cue the cheering(booing) children,
I'm listening to reggae
Nathan

---

Img_0057_2
From:
Jeffery


To:
Nathan


Subject:
Re: A Nidea

You talk a retribution like you're a reader of the Old Testament.  My God is a micro-biotic God, not a fire/brimstone God.  If I wanted that old tyme vengeance vibe I would have stayed settled with Zeus.  Now there was a god who knew a good vengeance tip.

Did I tell you about the time Zeus, Jeff Weston and I went to the faux-Commonwealth debates at UBC when we were in high school?  Jeff was reading up on Noam Chompsky, who he would later engrave in marble for the oracles, while Zeus and I were trying to figure out what the major concerns of the Solomon Islands were.  My gosh, what a speaker he was that Zeus.  Once he got on roll it was like he shot lightening from his teeth.  He did not, at least not during the conference since it would have been out of character for the tiny island nation to do so.

The point is my dear friend, and I use that term as loosely as I use the term "faux-Commonwealth", that your attempt at verbal judo will not fool me.  You try to reverse or positions with a quick flick of your hip, and all you end up doing is making me mad.  I've been around the Model UN and I find it much too small to fit any real ambassadors in.  Those plastic people you've glued around the outside to represent scale will hardly be able to negotiate the sort of long lasting trade deals that your nation expects of you.

I have seen all of your moves.  I rate you 4 out of 5.3.  It is an odd sort of scale, but it's all about keeping the metric and imperial conversions clean.

I love you like a retarded frog I once caught in a muddy swamp in White Rock.  Or rather not love, but if I had you in a jar I'd feed you some flies and punch holes in the top.  It only seems fair.

Take care of my stalks while they're growing.  Though that's not an invitation for more horseshit.

- Frank Mahovlich 

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Img_2736
From:
Nathan


To:
Jeffery


Subject:
Re: A Nidea

Dr. Feelgood

That was probably the funniest email I've received in about five
years.  I think the point at which my bile rose the highest in protest
was when you say "I love you like a retarded frog..."  End quote.
That pretty much frosts (with malice) the cake of your dispassions.
Frogs are rare.  Frogs are precious.  I am from White Rock.

Remind me who Zeus is.  I have narrowed the list to Johannes, Michelle
(most probably), and Dane Bird.  The Grade Ten Bird.  Zeus, the real
Zeus, the one we clubbed with in Olympus (remember?), had nothing of
fire/brimstone/vengeance.  The most Zeus had was turbo-whim, and that
while topless (!!) and his hurling electricity was never pleasing to
him - he's said repeatedly that he regretted it.  His waxed chest
betrayed his need to please.  Besides, he had competition, and could
be tricked into incest, or replacing the distributor even though there
was nothing wrong with it.

Have you read much Chomsky?  I've read a fair amount.  And I must say
this.  I used to love him.  His writing is very hard to read.  It's
dense, and footnoted like there was a panel of celebrity judges.
There is actually only a pamphlet's worth of text in Manufacturing
Consent, and the rest is text-length citations of U.N. resolution
wording, Presidential speeches, obscure scholars of eastern european
historical conflict, and Woody Allen's most memorable nocturnal
mumblings.

If there were one person left on a tiny island nation, would that
person automatically be his own UN representative?  Would there be
allegations of human rights abuses if he weren't properly groomed?
Could he declare war on Mauritania and then hide for 3 years?  Or is
it more likely that the last person would sit on his tiny beach, with
his tiny tattered shorts, tossing stones into the sea and crying
softly to himself?  I say we annex him.  I say we sell him to
seagulls.

My swamp, your jar with or without holes, my hibernatory mud cave, the
centre of the sun: It matters not.

Bernard Callebaut

---

From: Jeffery


To:
Nathan


Subject:
Re: A Nidea

Dear Black Cauldron:

Zeus = Dane Bird?
Zeus = Michelle Smith?
Zeus = Johannes Saufer?

Your knowledge of my back catalouge is shaky at best.  I suggest you pay closer attention to my autobiography "Fashioning The Senses" and less to your so called studies.  Or read my blog which is located at www.jefferysimpson.net.  Also I have to say that I will be sharing your ignorance with my adoring public, they have a right to know what sort of free range fowl that I associate with.

You ask questions so I will give you answers like a rabbit stealing eggs and then re-distributing them on Easter like some insane animal kingdom Robin Hood.  Or Lenin.

Zeus = Aaron Peck.

Yes I have read some Noam Chompsky.  Largely in comic form thanks to Jeffrey Weston's cartoons.  I find that most great philosophers are best in comic strip form which is why I asked for the compelete collection of the writings of John Calvin and Thomas Hobbes as related by a young boy and his stuffed tiger. 

Be wary.  I must now take out the trash.  When I return I expect an apology and possibly some sort of smallish baked dish to demonstrate my dominance over you in the area of wishing on falling stars.  I wish but good.

- Pony Boy