Letter Of The Week

Hands off the ramen

Re "M. Diddy to the Rescue" [Fashion Forward, July 15, villagevoice.com]: Nina Lalli! What are you doing? Nothing but eroding the final bastion of male-dom—our own apartment in the Village or wherever. You are exactly the type of "well-meaning" woman I look out for, the one who wants to make "positive" changes in her man's life . . . starting with getting rid of our Alf sheets and ramen. Instead of lining up at Bed, Bath & Soul Begone to replace his colorful collection of cups, just enjoy the experience of dating a cool guy. Worry about the thread count when you're married and in your forties.

Nathan Wolitarsky
Austin, Texas

Days of cock and poses

I read Tricia Romano's article about the closing of the Cock ["Suck This," Fly Life, July 6-12] and am deeply saddened. I lived at the Cock. I really did. I know it is a very sad, disturbing thing to confess but it is the truth. When I look back on anything interesting that I've ever done in New York City it all comes back to Cock and debauchery. Everything spoken about me is true. I have penetrated myself with unimaginable objects and lived. The only thing I've never had inside me at the Cock was an actual cock. A girl has to have her limits. I live in Berlin now. Thanks for the article.

Terrence Frye
a/k/a Krylon Superstar
Berlin, Germany

Son,truth, and bars

Re Jennifer Gonnerman's "The Juror and the Convict" [July 6-12]: I am the mother of Sean Salley, the co-defendant of Andre Smith. I am appalled that Lynne Harriton would actually feel sorry for someone of Andre's nature, when it was Andre who asked Sean if he knew where he could purchase some marijuana and it was Andre's idea to rob those people. Andre was already on parole for a long time for a similar crime. His livelihood was robbing drug dealers. While it is sad that his mother was caught up in the drug life, it is even sadder that Andre himself resorted to that type of life. Let's not forget that, as the transcript stated, it was Andre who pulled the gun on those people.

We as Christians must repent for our sins, but first we have to deal with the truth in order to be accepted into the Kingdom of Heaven. I pray for Andre as I do my son, but I would like for the true story to be told. One side in a printed story is not the answer. Let's be fair, talk to Sean and let him tell his story. I will pray for you, Andre, and ask God to forgive you, and having Lynne feel sorry for you is only another way for you to try and beat the system.

Phillipina Flowers
New Orleans, Louisiana

Editor's note: During the Carnegie Deli murder trial, the two surviving victims testified that Andre Smith brought the gun to the apartment. Sean Salley testified that Andre fired the gun, but the prosecutor said in his closing statement that Andre handed the gun to Sean Salley and that Sean shot all five people.

In a rock and roll desert

Is Mike Delano harboring an already festering hatred for Oasis ["Through Being Cool," July 20-26]? Don't Believe the Truth is the best damn Oasis recording in years. While their first three records are legendary (and sadly, their questionable antics offstage, as well), every Oasis album since then has had at least a few good tracks. But Don't Believe the Truth is not only their best album in years, it is among their best recordings, period. I've seen them three or four times, most recently at the sold-out gig at Madison Square Garden in late June. They sounded great, and it was the best time I've ever had. I know there are a lot of Oasis naysayers out there. Heck, I'm 44 and maybe, one would think, too old to like a band like this. I say, heck, who else can write such great, killer, hook-laden tunes? The Beatles are long gone, the Stones, Who, and Kinks make too rare, periodical visits to the airwaves nowadays, and except for the last long-player from the Donnas (which gave me a real big aural sonic rush—great record), only Oasis delivers.

Louis Paul
Jersey City, New Jersey

His way or the Skyway

In Robert Sietsema's review of Skyway [Counter Culture, July 20-26], the dish called "house special pork with yam" is actually more a Chinese hakka dish. That's no surprise since most if not all "Malaysian" restaurants in New York are owned by ethnic Chinese ("straits Chinese"), not Malays.

The dish contains braised, uncured pork belly and taro root (also called dasheen), which is definitely not a white sweet potato. The Chinese name for the dish is roughly "utow kow yuk." Let me tell you that every once in a while, to my distress, Sietsema hits on one of my favorite relatively unknown restaurants. Thankfully, the rush from the tin-palated, noisy yuppies who read his reviews looking for new, "hip" places soon subsides, and the place returns to normal.

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