A collection of odd, humorous, or touching letters written mostly by celebrities or historical figures: http://www.lettersofnote.com/ So far my favorite has been a response by Micky Mantle about his favorite memories of Yankee Stadium: NSFW I consider the following my outstanding experience at Yankee Stadium: — I got a blow-job under the right field Bleachers, by the Yankee Bull pen. This event occurred on or about: (Give as much detail as you can) — It was about the third or fourth inning. I had a pulled groin and couldn't fuck at the time. She was a very nice girl and asked me what to do with the cum after I came in her mouth. I said don't ask me, I'm no cock-sucker. Signed: Mickey Mantle, The All-American Boy Focus: Discuss the site. Any interesting insight to people you already thought were cool? Alt-Focus: The lost art of letter writing.
I looked at like 3 things on there and they're all gold. I also totally geeked out on the early thoughts on Star Trek: TNG casting. Which isn't nearly as great as getting a beej in Yankee Stadium, but different strokes...
That site is absolutely one of my favorites. There is a letter on there from Marlon Brando where he tries... in an extremely creepy fashion... to pick up a stewardess on an airplane. Bravo, sir. I write a lot of letters. People like receiving mail and put more gravity into something that has been handwritten. My fiancee has a huge box full of all the letters I have written her over the years, and she likes to pull them out and read them when she misses me. I tend to write her a letter every other day when I'm gone, and because of that, I've begun to enjoy the ritual. I'm extremely picky about my tools, and only use the best pens and paper. G. Lalo, Clairefontaine, or hand pressed cotton paper, Pelikan or Omas fountain pens, and high end ink. I worked for a while getting back my cursive handwriting (I wrote in print for years after college) and have fairly good penmanship these days. To wit: writing letters gets me laid a lot.
A few months ago, Sports Illustrated had a story about Dustin Johnson, and mentioned his error when he grounded his club in a "bunker" during the last PGA Championship, which cost him the tournament. Byron Nelson's widow sent him a letter (and a check) - pretty classy. (In the print edition, they reprinted the whole letter, but I didn't see it online.) SI Article
Groucho is missed by plenty, sadly forgotten by most. I'm going to be prowling through this site all damn day. <a class="postlink" href="http://www.lettersofnote.com/2011/02/i-had-no-idea-that-city-of-casablanca.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://www.lettersofnote.com/2011/02/i- ... lanca.html</a> Eric Idle's "letter" to Chapman is exactly the kind of crap I send off to people and they think I'm just being a dick. It also makes me happy that people like Ray Bradbury make typos out the wazoo too. Alt.: I recently wrote a few love letters. She liked them enough to keep them on her nightstand, reading them before bed. Apparently they weren't enough to keep her out of another fella's bed, but I think the art of the letter still could work on someone who isn't a kook. Anyway, when I was writing them I remembered Richard Burton wrote Elizabeth Taylor. That man's words made even me moist. Eloquence and passion and real fire. I admire a person that can voice themselves so well, without insecurity. Totally stole a few of his lines to use in my letters. Reprint of Burton excerpts spoilered for size: Spoiler <a class="postlink" href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2010/06/01/article-1283211-09D97F4B000005DC-559_468x714.jpg" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2010/06/ ... 68x714.jpg</a> Tempted to write a few more. Email doesn't hack it. Opening your mailbox to find a letter someone took the effort to plot out is something tangible. Akin to receiving flowers or a Hallmark card, but painstakingly personal. Yeah, I think people would respond to that favorably. It is also an anachronism that I'd like to keep around. When some of these writers die, we'll have a Windows folder full of emails instead of a steamer trunk of correspondence. That's some magic lost.
I once read that Quentin Tarantino dropped out of school when he was 15. I'll believe it. Dude's handwriting looks like mine...when I was 7.
Here's a funny letter that's been floating around for a while. I almost peed the 1st time I read it: Paleoanthropology Division Smithsonian Institute 207 Pennsylvania Avenue Washington, DC 20078 Dear Sir: Thank you for your latest submission to the Institute, labeled "211-D, layer seven, next to the clothesline post. Hominid skull." We have given this specimen a careful and detailed examination, and regret to inform you that we disagree with your theory that it represents "conclusive proof of the presence of Early Man in Charleston County two million years ago." Rather, it appears that what you have found is the head of a Barbie doll, of the variety one of our staff, who has small children, believes to be the "Malibu Barbie". It is evident that you have given a great deal of thought to the analysis of this specimen, and you may be quite certain that those of us who are familiar with your prior work in the field were loathe to come to contradiction with your findings. However, we do feel that there are a number of physical attributes of the specimen which might have tipped you off to it's modern origin: 1. The material is molded plastic. Ancient hominid remains are typically fossilized bone. 2. The cranial capacity of the specimen is approximately 9 cubic centimeters, well below the threshold of even the earliest identified proto-hominids. 3. The dentition pattern evident on the "skull" is more consistent with the common domesticated dog than it is with the "ravenous man-eating Pliocene clams" you speculate roamed the wetlands during that time. This latter finding is certainly one of the most intriguing hypotheses you have submitted in your history with this institution, but the evidence seems to weigh rather heavily against it. Without going into too much detail, let us say that: A. The specimen looks like the head of a Barbie doll that a dog has chewed on. B. Clams don't have teeth. It is with feelings tinged with melancholy that we must deny your request to have the specimen carbon dated. This is partially due to the heavy load our lab must bear in it's normal operation, and partly due to carbon dating's notorious inaccuracy in fossils of recent geologic record. To the best of our knowledge, no Barbie dolls were produced prior to 1956 AD, and carbon dating is likely to produce wildly inaccurate results. Sadly, we must also deny your request that we approach the National Science Foundation's Phylogeny Department with the concept of assigning your specimen the scientific name "Australopithecus spiff-arino." Speaking personally, I, for one, fought tenaciously for the acceptance of your proposed taxonomy, but was ultimately voted down because the species name you selected was hyphenated, and didn't really sound like it might be Latin. However, we gladly accept your generous donation of this fascinating specimen to the museum. While it is undoubtedly not a hominid fossil, it is, nonetheless, yet another riveting example of the great body of work you seem to accumulate here so effortlessly. You should know that our Director has reserved a special shelf in his own office for the display of the specimens you have previously submitted to the Institution, and the entire staff speculates daily on what you will happen upon next in your digs at the site you have discovered in your back yard. We eagerly anticipate your trip to our nation's capital that you proposed in your last letter, and several of us are pressing the Director to pay for it. We are particularly interested in hearing you expand on your theories surrounding the "trans-positating fillifitation of ferrous ions in a structural matrix" that makes the excellent juvenile Tyrannosaurus rex femur you recently discovered take on the deceptive appearance of a rusty 9-mm Sears Craftsman automotive crescent wrench. Yours in Science, Harvey Rowe Curator, Antiquities
I always get a kick out of this site. A couple of letters immediately came to mind. The first was from Hunter S. Thompson.Gotta love when a dude just absolutely unleashes on someone. Spoiler Transcript HOLLY SORENSON / Shooting Gallery / Hollywood / Jan 22 '01 Dear Holly, Okay, you lazy bitch, I'm getting tired of this waterhead fuckaround that you're doing with The Rum Diary. We are not even spinning our wheels aggresivly. It's like the whole Project got turned over to Zombies who live in cardboard boxes under the Hollywood Freeway... I seem to be the only person who's doing anything about getting this movie Made. I have rounded up Depp, Benicio Del Toro, Brad Pitt, Nick Nolte & a fine screenwriter from England, named Michael Thomas, who is a very smart boy & has so far been a pleasure to talk to & conspire with... So there's yr. fucking Script & all you have to do now is act like a Professional & Pay him. What the hell do you think Making a Movie is all about? Nobody needs to hear any more of that Gibberish about yr. New Mercedes & yr. Ski Trips & how Hopelessly Broke the Shooting Gallery is.... If you're that fucking Poor you should get out of the Movie Business. It is no place for Amateurs & Dilletants who don't want to do anything but "take lunch" & Waste serious people's Time. Fuck this. We have a good writer, we have the main parts casted & we have a very marketable movie that will not even be hard to make.... And all you are is a goddamn Bystander, making stupid suggestions & jabbering now & then like some half-bright Kid with No Money & No Energy & no focus except on yr. own tits.... I'm sick of hearing about Cuba & Japs & yr. Yo-yo partners who want to change the story because the violence makes them Queasy. Shit on them. I'd much rather deal with a Live asshole than a Dead worm with No Light in his Eyes.... If you people don't want to Do Anything with this movie, just cough up the Option & I'll talk to someone else. The only thing You're going to get by quitting and curling up in a Fetal position is relentless Grief and Embarrassment. And the one thing you won't have is Fun... Okay, That's my Outburst for today. Let's hope that it gets Somebody off the dime. And if you don't Do Something QUICK you're going to Destroy a very good idea. I'm in the mood to chop yr. fucking hands off. R.S.V.P (Signed) HUNTER cc: Depp Benecio M. Thomas Nolte Shapiro The second letter I love is from a young Slash to an ex-girlfriend. The reason for their breakup? He talked too much about his guitar. The girl also ended up dating Axl Rose and was the subject of the song My Michelle. Just a cool peak into the lives of rockstars.
I've also heard that he's dyslexic. Although I'm sure vast amounts of cocaine could be responsible as well.
This site's been on my RSS feed for quite a while. I love that Eric Idle letter to Graham Chapman - simultaneously funny and kind of sweet, actually. This might be one of my favorites, from a man I respect tremendously. Bruce Lee on martial arts: "In Memory of a Once-Fluid Man." JFK's distress call is also massively interesting.
I couldn't find them on the site, but James Joyce's love letters to his future wife Nora Barnacle. ONE of these sold for nearly a half-million at auction. I think they might have underpaid. To the blockquotes, Batman! These letters weren't discovered until years after their deaths, likely because they were originally published on page 150 of Ulysses.
Here's another great Hunter S. Thompson letter. This one was written when he was just 21, but it's classic HST. The contempt for authority, the love of chaos, the in-your-face honesty; all of that was in place at an age when the rest of us are sending off timid cover letters for summer internships. Spoiler Vancouver Sun TO JACK SCOTT, VANCOUVER SUN October 1, 1958 57 Perry Street New York City Sir, I got a hell of a kick reading the piece Time magazine did this week on The Sun. In addition to wishing you the best of luck, I'd also like to offer my services. Since I haven't seen a copy of the "new" Sun yet, I'll have to make this a tentative offer. I stepped into a dung-hole the last time I took a job with a paper I didn't know anything about (see enclosed clippings) and I'm not quite ready to go charging up another blind alley. By the time you get this letter, I'll have gotten hold of some of the recent issues of The Sun. Unless it looks totally worthless, I'll let my offer stand. And don't think that my arrogance is unintentional: it's just that I'd rather offend you now than after I started working for you. I didn't make myself clear to the last man I worked for until after I took the job. It was as if the Marquis de Sade had suddenly found himself working for Billy Graham. The man despised me, of course, and I had nothing but contempt for him and everything he stood for. If you asked him, he'd tell you that I'm "not very likable, (that I) hate people, (that I) just want to be left alone, and (that I) feel too superior to mingle with the average person." (That's a direct quote from a memo he sent to the publisher.) Nothing beats having good references. Of course if you asked some of the other people I've worked for, you'd get a different set of answers. If you're interested enough to answer this letter, I'll be glad to furnish you with a list of references -- including the lad I work for now. The enclosed clippings should give you a rough idea of who I am. It's a year old, however, and I've changed a bit since it was written. I've taken some writing courses from Columbia in my spare time, learned a hell of a lot about the newspaper business, and developed a healthy contempt for journalism as a profession. As far as I'm concerned, it's a damned shame that a field as potentially dynamic and vital as journalism should be overrun with dullards, bums, and hacks, hag-ridden with myopia, apathy, and complacence, and generally stuck in a bog of stagnant mediocrity. If this is what you're trying to get The Sun away from, then I think I'd like to work for you. Most of my experience has been in sports writing, but I can write everything from warmongering propaganda to learned book reviews. I can work 25 hours a day if necessary, live on any reasonable salary, and don't give a black damn for job security, office politics, or adverse public relations. I would rather be on the dole than work for a paper I was ashamed of. It's a long way from here to British Columbia, but I think I'd enjoy the trip. If you think you can use me, drop me a line. If not, good luck anyway. Sincerely, Hunter S. Thompson