EMILY HALL: Let me tell you a thing or two. People aren't afraid of art, as you propose in your article ["Danger: Artist," July 25]. What people are afraid of is being brutally stabbed in front of a friendly nightclub by a pathological, delusional, and psychologically deranged doorman.

And if you remotely believe that the discourse on art and society merits print, you should really rethink the role of critical reasoning.

You may wish to at least place a call to the man who sits typing this letter with one hand, owing to the permanent neurological deficit he received by having a knife plunged into his back by the "artist" Antjuan Oden. You may actually wish to place one phone call to the King County Prosecutor's Office and read a court transcript, and ponder for one half second the credibility of this convicted criminal whom you eulogize as a victim of a heartless and racist society.

But then you'd discover that your story is a fucking lie and a piece of shit, and you'd have to search another scenario to spout your "society versus artist" bullshit before press time.

You state that art "is a place where the unforgivable goes to." You know another one? Fucking prison. If you had even the most remote sense of journalistic integrity, and read the easily obtained court testimony, you'd have learned the following: Antjuan Oden himself is the only reason he was hauled to prison and detained with all those other accused, tried, and convicted murderers, rapists, and sociopaths. You state that you are not able to argue the facts of the case. You're damn fucking right you're not! You deemed them not even worthy of a sideways glance. And for that you are pathetic at what you do, as are your editors for what they don't.

Antjuan's sculptures of bloodied women's torsos with knife wounds, though of note, played absolutely no part in his rightful conviction. Read the testimony of his co-workers who witnessed his heinous, unwarranted stabbing of an innocent bystander. Consider the overwhelming amount of people who witnessed his heinous deed and who each gave an exact account of his criminal delinquency. Then ponder his delusional testimony, and [you'll] have no need to question why the defense could call not one witness, save the accused.

Antjuan Oden took, and refused to return, the ID of a 29-year-old, five foot two, 100-pound female artist patron, despite pleas to do so from all of his own co-workers. There was never a fight, and not one punch was ever thrown. Antjuan secretly armed himself with a paring knife from the kitchen during what was, and remained, an entirely verbal confrontation between himself and a small young woman. This "big gentle-seeming man" then returned to the confrontation to pull a club on her. When myself and one of his co-workers simply separated him from her, by placing ourselves in front of her body, as witnessed by all, he stabbed me in the back with his previously concealed knife.

That is what happened on the night of March 2, 2000 in front of the OK Hotel. That night would find me lying in a pool of blood with a severed axillary artery, and [experiencing] a complete transection of the radial and medial nerve, which both balled up in my arm, leaving my left hand to never work again. Never again will I find solace in my ability to express myself on the guitar. There's your fucking story.

This is a matter of public record that you simply chose to ignore [in order] to describe Antjuan as an artist repressed by an unjust society. There is one person to blame for his incarceration--it is not art, it is not society, it is not race. It is his uncontrollable violent nature, and the honest testimony of all who witnessed its wrath, which landed him in a correctional facility, where he belongs. Period.

Tim O'Neill, via e-mail

STRANGER: I've met some nice strangers before, but you have really changed my life ["Best of (Our Advertisers in) Seattle 2002," July 25]. Putting me on the cover has already elevated my well being in so many ways, but beyond my own flattered, self-centered celebration, let me give The Stranger an award. You are now the best Stranger I've ever plumbed the depths with.

Over the years there have been times when your writers have been superb beyond any others I've read in a weekly publication. Other times you've downright pissed me off. But I've stayed with you, Stranger.

And now you've made me Advertiser of the Year!

Thanks to all of you. Thank you more than you know. You've helped me know that being myself has always been the right thing to do. At least half my customers are straight, and they love me. People love my ad, and now The Stranger has revealed that our "love" will ripple out to people who are open to change. You have given Seattle a little of its heart and soul back. You've done a helluva lot for me! All these years, and you've made me feel like a debutante at a coming-out party! You can be such a good lover, Stranger.

Zan, a.k.a Rad Dyke Plumber

STRANGER: Rarely do I write to publications, but after the article "The Return of Black Elegance" [July 25] by Charles Mudede, I was compelled to reply. That was a marvelous piece of journalism. It moved me to check out MJ Cole's work. [Thanks for] the mere mention of my all-time favorite male singer (Alexander O'Neal) and two of the best bands ever--the S.O.S. Band and Loose Ends. Referencing "Hangin' on a String" was a definite attention-getter.

Additionally, kudos for the mere mention of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. Even though Jam and Lewis did a great job giving Janet Jackson a career, they were even more amazing working with the S.O.S. Band. Charles, keep up the good work.

William Maurice Mitchell, a.k.a. Billy Ray, via e-mail

EDITOR: Charles Mudede's review of M. Night Shyamalan's Signs [August 1] is absolute crap!!! Why the hell do you guys allow him to write anything??? Only after reading paragraph after paragraph of Mudede's pseudo-intellectual "oh I know so much about film because I can name a foreign director" rambling, only after he critiques Mel Gibson's body language, only after he spews forth his bloated opinion of what he likes and doesn't like about Shyamalan's other films (Newsflash!! You're supposed to be reviewing THIS film, not past films), he finally, in one short sentence, sums up what the movie is about: an alien invasion. Gee, thanks for ruining the movie for me! Or did you even see the film? This guy couldn't write himself out of a library if all signs pointed to the exit. I can do better than him! Why not hire yourself a real film critic and get rid of those who feel it's necessary to show how intelligent they think they are instead of actually reviewing the film in question. SHEESH.

J. Daniel Scott, via e-mail

EDITOR: I just wanted to tell you how incredibly tasteless the cocaine bit was ["Cocaine Is Great!" July 25]. I appreciate your effort to try out different things in your paper; it's a great breath of fresh air. But what the hell was that? I caught your tongue in your cheek, but still a pretty stupid idea. Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, children read, or at least peruse, their mother's copy of The Stranger?

Sex is one thing, blatant drug (a hard drug at that) exploitation is another.

Show some courage and apologize.

Chris, via e-mail

STRANGER: I've recently moved to the Bay Area of California from Seattle, and in my somewhat homesick missing-The Stranger-syndrome, I searched for another independent paper down here that could replace the void. What I discovered was a crappy, watered-down joke of a paper called the Metro published in San Jose that has completely ripped off the "Last Days" section--only difference being their weekly article (called "This Too") isn't the least bit funny or remotely intelligent. Thought you should check it out. I already gave 'em hell for ya! See the e-mail below that was just sent to them:

EDITOR: Just wanted to know if it is just an unusual coincidence that the weekly section "This Too" completely resembles "Last Days" from Seattle's weekly independent The Stranger? Or was it the Metro's intent to create a complete rip-off since you don't have the wit or humor to come up with a decent column of your own? I'll give you credit, you've done a great job--all the sections are there, from the "I Anonymous" (Oh yeah, you prefer to call it "I Saw You") to the third-person-perspective storytelling to the random insert in the upper right-hand corner--you've copied The Stranger's format exactly. Except for one crucial piece: The Stranger is actually INTELLIGENT and FUNNY!!! Who are you trying to kid?

Ken Miller, via e-mail