DEAR MR. MUDEDE: Thank you for being the only journalist in this town who gives a damn about hiphop ["Really, Really, Real," Charles Mudede, March 9]. As a hiphop-head, I feel exiled in Seattle after living in New York and other East Coast spots where good hiphop (or hiphop at all) is better appreciated. What I like about you is that your love for hiphop as music shines through in your excellent articles about hiphop as a social and cultural phenomenon.

I don't know why more people don't appreciate the most intoxicating music around. My guess, based on the total absence of any other kind of hiphop coverage in The Stranger, is that your editors and readers feel passably in touch with hiphop through reading your articles. However, if anyone is willing to take your hints and embark on some self-education, they should buy some CDs (suggestions: Gravediggaz, Ghostface, Gang Starr) and test the bass on their systems!

M. Vivian, Seattle

EDITORS: In response to "Really, Really Real" by Charles Mudede -- it's funny that you would focus on the ignorant part of rap, when it is probably the most progressive music out there to date. Hiphop's lyrics address subjects that no other genre has even approached. Hiphop has taken off where jazz and R&B from the '70s left off. People like [jazz critic] Stanley Crouch are feeding into MTV's version of rap, and I guess you people do also.

"J.N.," via e-mail

STRANGER: Boo, hiss! -- for the crappy reproduction of Glenn Barr's painting on the cover [March 9].

Jim Sadler, Amazon.com

HEY KATHLEEN: Wheew! Thought I'd share my relief with you that my ex-girlfriend did NOT kill herself over reading about me in your column KISSING ANOTHER WOMAN ["It's My Party," Kathleen Wilson, Feb 17]. Yeah, I got a lot of messages on my machine, taunting me with "LOVER LIPS!" and all that. But the worst was the sobbing, grief-stricken message from said ex-girlfriend. Ouch. The price of publicity.

Pat, of Radio Nationals

EDITORS: I wish to extend my thanks and my compliments [for] your recent article about the union- busting antics going on at King County's Department of Development and Environmental Services ["Gag Effect," Phil Campbell, March 9]. Local 17 reps have tried for years to work with the management there, and the situation has only gotten worse with time. It's about time the word got out -- maybe now something will be done!

Dee Gilmore, King County employee and Local 17 Vice President

EDITORS: I'm puzzled [as to] why you sent someone who actually boasted about his ignorance of a subject matter to [write] a film review for you. I'm referring to Charles Mudede, who admitted that he has seen only four anime films in his life ["Double Dragon," March 9], incorrectly refers to anime as a "genre" rather than as a medium, and is quite willing to apply his opinion on a single work to all works (seen and unseen) from that medium.

The irony is that almost all the anime fans I know who've seen X are in agreement with Mudede's summation: Dazzling animation cannot hide a messy, confusing story. Since many anime movies are based on "manga" -- comics with story lines that can easily run for several years -- X is [not] the first high-profile anime film to suffer from this flaw. But there is a substantial difference between "all anime" and "four anime films."

"Antaeus Feldspar," via e-mail

EDITORS: A fellow ex-Regal Cinemas employee sent me your article ["Exit Interview," Josh Feit, March 9], and I must say that every word of the interview was accurate. The only misdoing your contact could be accused of is incompletion. The situation at the Regal Cinemas where I (and six of my closest friends) was employed was similar, if not worse. We would often sell candy [from] boxes that had been nibbled on by night visitors of the small, furry variety; sell popcorn flavored with the melted plastic handle of a screwdriver; and worked -- as minors -- until midnight on weeknights. Right on! Let the people know!

Erin Kate, via e-mail

EDITORS: I saw your ad for a new column ["You Fucking Ingrates!" March 9]. With the spirit of Seattle in mind, how 'bout this? "Everything sucks!" I mean, your whole paper states that every FUKKIN week, right? "Seattle sucks, the people suck, the music sucks, the food sucks, tourists suck, yuppies suck, alternative people suck, and EVERYTHING SUCKS!!!!" I mean, let's push this negative teenage angst to the limit, shall we? And so what if it gets old? Big deal if our attitudes stink as bad as three-day-old puke, because our readers suck, and we don't give a crap about them anyway, because WE SUCK TOO.

Besides, actually doing anything about what pisses us off would mean we [would] have to stop BITCHING about it and get off our lazy, MGD-drinking asses... and that would mean (gasp) HARD WORK! Much better to just BITCH... WHINE... [and] hate everyone and everything, because we ALL FUKKIN' SUCK! Sheesh... I don't know why I moved here, but I do know why I'm leaving!

R.S., via e-mail

EDITORS: In his review of Kelly Hogan and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts, Grant Cogswell writes, "Vocalist Kelly Hogan lays it on less thickly than Mekon Sally Timms, but you can still tell she's British." [CD Review Revue, March 16.] Sorry Grant, but Kelly Hogan is from Atlanta, and [is] now currently making Chicago her home. If you want to hear her "lay it on," check out the Jody Grind, a fabulous Atlanta band from the late '80s and early '90s. (They were a great band brought to a tragic end by the deaths of two band members in a car accident.) Hogan has also performed on a couple of albums with the Rock-a-Teens, but mostly as a guitarist rather than a vocalist.

Clare Aronow, Seattle

CHARLES MUDEDE: Your review of D'Angelo's album, Voodoo, is the straw that broke the camel's back ["Voluptuous Voodoo," March 16]. I thought nothing could top your moronic review of Q-Tip's Amplified [CD Review Revue, Dec 30, 1999], but you proved there is no limit to your piles of nonsense. Don't get me wrong; I love Voodoo. What I take issue with is your need to sound like you know everything: "Rap can be read as the male attempt to reclaim 'the mic' from women, who have dominated singing."

Are you out of your fucking mind?!? Music, at practically any time, has been dominated by MEN. Do Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darin, Frank Sinatra, Smokey Robinson, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gay [sic], Isaac Hayes, Michael Jackson, etc. mean anything to you? Even through the '80s and '90s, when you claim rap drove all the "crooners" toward extinction, male singers flourished and dominated airwaves. What about Babyface, Boyz II Men, and Maxwell, just to name a few?

Do me a favor, and leave your over-intellectual hot air to the Police Beat -- or better yet, your little journal at home, 'cause someday one of those numbskulls at The Stranger will realize you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground.

Alexander Newman, Fremont

EDITORS: In no way does Everett True's Machina: The Machines of God review [CD Review Revue, March 16] even try to judge the album on fair grounds. He was biased before he even heard the songs: "I hate songs with titles like 'The Crying Tree of Mercury.' I do not even have to hear them to know that...." What kind of crap is that? If you allow this kind of crap, then I have no respect for any content you may print.

Jason Cervantes, via e-mail

EDITORS: Topping the "Stupid, Stupid" trilogy is quite a task, but I have a great new column idea: "Look Who's Driving Like an Asshole." Each week, you can feature the car and mug shot of someone who drives like an asshole -- license plate and all! You can break it up with the special exposé, "Don't Buy a Minivan if You Don't Know How to Park It!" Of course, you could always just go for a true ratings-grabber: "Here's Tim Eyman's Home Telephone Number!"

CE Cook, Seattle

CLARIFICATION: You can still play pinball at the Hi*Score Arcade for another nine months! As we reported ["Insert Coin to Continue," March 9], their lease isn't up until December 2000.