QUESTION 28
To the man who murdered my dear friend:
My name is Doris Jenner, and I was one of Grace Rathbun's closest friends. I speak on behalf of all of the people who cared about Ms. Grace when I say that your mockery of everything she stood for is beyond contemptible. In the fifty-three years since we met during our studies at Bryn Mawr, I have never met a more upstanding, gentle woman who cared so passionately about helping others while holding herself to the highest of moral codes. She always conducted herself with impeccable decorum, no matter the circumstance, and that is why so many in Gotham sought her counsel. She was a classy, beautiful woman, inside and out.
Your filthy, immature, crude and violent replies to readers' letters epitomizes the antithesis of everything she stood for. Honestly, I don't know what is more upsetting: your killing her or your tarnishing the institution of class and ethics to which she'd devoted her life. You are the most detestable beast that has ever disgraced this city.
How do you live with yourself?
I am enclosing my address. You seem to be fond of paying readers a visit, so I invite you to stop by to see me, so I can give you a piece of my mind in person.
Doris Jenner
170 W. Parkview Avenue
Penthouse B
Gotham City
- - - REPLY- - -
Well, weLL.
What an apt choice of woRDs, Doris.
"…diSgraced this cIty…"
DisgRace
Dis-Grace
De-Grace?
.
.
ha HahaHahA HA
whY, yes, I guess you couLd saY that I have dis-graced (de-Grace-d) the ciTy by, uh… faciLitating her deMise. (adIOs, babY!)
foR the recoRD, doRiS, mS. gRacE was noT a bEautiful persOn, "InsIde and oUt". I knoW, bEcaUSe i actuaLLy saW her inSides, anD theY were jUst as unaPPealing as hEr ouTside.
After she feLL down thE stairs And wENt
...SpLAT ! (bat bAt rhymes with fLedermaUs)
I had a little looK arouNd her condo(m?) to sEe if anYthing were woRtH steaLing. You knoW what I founD?
(...peNis...)
she coLLected thiMBles.
And BeatriX potTer figurInes.
ApParenTLy she was Quite fonD of crOcheTing pLant-holdeRs.
(What a tiGress this womAn was! hahAhaha Ha hA)
her mantLe was organiZed to hiGhlight what was certaiNLy her most PriZed posseSsion: her FranKLin MiNt comMemoratiVe plate of Prince charLes' and Lady DianA's engagement.
(Lady Di. ladY Die. Ha ha, Di died.)
Her aboDe was a monUmenT to a frOu-FRou lifestYLe that would eRadicate the sPerm count of anY man iN a two-bLock (blocK rhYmes with sChLong) radIus. coupLed with hEr face liKe a saddle, no wonDer she was aN old mAd. i mean, olD maId.
(...scrotum...)
Having said that…
therE were no coPies of VegeTarian TiMes on her cofFee table, nor a Pair of BirKenstocKs (sTock rHymEs with uNit) in her shoe rAck. (Why do peoPLe use shoe racKs when you can kiCK off youR shoes Into a peRFectly good sink? That's a head-scratcher.)
I diDn't sEe car keYs to a SubaRu Outback. No RainboW trIangle sticKers on tHe refriGeratOr.
Ergo….
…Ms. gRace wasn't a carPEt-Muncher. (SoRry, doriS.)
She was just a friGiD, sancTimonioUs old bRoad with a sTick up her aSs and a coMpuLsion to teLL other peoPLe what was wROng with their liVes, as a meanS to combat (comE out, coMe ouT to pLaY, BatMAn) her oWn inseCuriTies because she was too uGLy for a man to LoVe.
(...anaL BeaDs...)
But enougGH about gracIe-pooH. LEt's taLk about yOu.
You, on the other hand, Doris… you're not Quite as giVen to eXtreMe femInine leaNinGs, are yOu?
Your noTe beaRs the toNe of something juuuuust a biT beYond pRaise of a deceased friend. You cLearlY carried QUite the toRCh for mS. Grace.
MmmmmmMmm?
SomethIng you'D liKe to get oFf that seVenty-one year-old saGgY chest of Yours, tooTs, as an old BrYn Mawr aLumnA? That's one oF those snoOty "seVen SistEr" giiiiiiiirLs schools, isn't it? (Uh, huh.) Lesbo colleGes. aLL of 'em.
(...PieRced laBial foLds...)
In the sprinGtime of your Youth, you feLL for Ms. FaCe-liKe-An-OranGutan, but she neVer retuRned the feeLings…
…did shE?
...DID she?
And now you'Re aLL huRT 'n stuFf because she's dEad and you tHink I'm ruInIng her good nAme.
allOW me to fUrther sullY her name by teLLing you to bUy YourseLf a nice raInbow-coloRed dILdo and bloW off a litTle steaM.
waIt… wAs that raunchy? A bit tOo forWard?
(...mouThfuL of a bLow Bob well dOne...)
PerhaPs you should eXpect such an ansWer from a
DeTestaBLe beaSt
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Like me.
Dee-teStabLe. teStable. tEstaBle.
(testicLe teSticle TesTicle)
.
.
.
Is that a crude eNough imaGe for you, DOris? Is it JusT so fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiLThy that you wAnt to waSh your hands with CloroX juSt at the tHOught?
Do you Know whY my resPonsEs to inQuiries are so…
FiltHy
(… cum suCking suPer tWat...)
ImMature
(… a saTisFying baLL scRatcH...)
cRude
(...uSed purPle condOms...)
anD vioLenT?
(...buRN this citY doWn...)
You alReadY said it yoursElf, dorIs:
I'm mOcKing (cockiNg!) the in-Stee-tOo-shUn of eThics and deCorum.
WhY?
BecauSe I can. And bEcause i'm a visionaRy. A feW stePs ahead of the cOmMon massEs, you miGht saY.
.
.
.
.
.
i'm merelY acCelerAting the moRal decLine that's ineVitaBle, DoRis.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm thE gasoLIne you throW on the fiRe.
i'm the yeaSt you puT in the breAd to make it riSe. (zucChini with waLnuts!)
i'M the luBe you sLick on that rainBoW-colored diLDo to make it sLIde in the ol' crePe-like tuNneL easier, dorIs.
(dirtY little iMage therE, isn't it? HoW do you feeL aBout seeIng your name in tHe same senteNcE that dePicts a sYmboL of an eRect PeNis?)
GotHAm has too manY ruLes. SocieTy haS too mAny RUes. ruLEs are no FuN. Now chaOs, on tHe other hand,
Now tHeRe's a gOod time.
You cAn't speLL "cHaos" without "hA", now, caN you? nope.
(… masTurBation on a train…...)
How Does oNe beGet chaos?
You unRaVel an institUtion or a sEt of VaLues from the insiDe out, doris. Just liKe what I'm doinG wiTh this CoLumN.
I insuLt peoPle, because i'm noT supPosed to.
(… killthemaYorkilltheMayor…...)
I speW forwaRd imaGes you judge as ViLe…because you wiLL find theM vile.
If an adVice coluMn is supPosed to oFFer gentle coRrections of manNeRs whiLe patting the (m)asses paTroniZingly on the head aNd enCouraging fuRTher judGment of others….
… thEn I'm going to riP down my tRousers and JaM (strawBerRY!) my coCk as far down the tHRoat of Gotham as I wanT.
And the peoPLe wiLL keep beGging for more. MoRe, DoRIs.
(… shit fuck damn bastaRd son-of-a-bitch cUnt toOthpaSte…...)
The aVerage IQ of the humAn race has sTeadiLy decLined since the 1960s. MediCine has impRoVed to preVent (m)ass outBreaKs of coMmon ailments from kiLLing entiRe cities or RegIons. wiLd animals Are no lonGer a thrEat to humans, thaNKs to wEapons (i suRe loVe 'em!). thE uneDucated repOpulate at MorE than thrEe times the rAte of the edUcated.
What does This meAn, DoRiS?
It means that the woRld is geTting dumber. A lot dumBer. peoPle are seeKing to be spoOn-fed theIr moraLs becauSe it's jusT too daRned hard to thinK for theMselves. (ha HAha, the duMmies)
The culturaL apeX of our coLLectiVe societY is in the rearView mirRor, babe. BacK so far, eVen the baTman coulDn't see it wIth one oF his suPer-poWered teLescoPE toYs.
We're headed downhiLL with a Bullet, Doris. you can't sTop it. I'm onLy giVing societY a bit of a Push down the hiLL, so wE can reaCh the oBLiVion of strucTure just a tad faSter.
ChaOs is so much FUN, Doris. i'LL show you mYself, when I paY you a Visit (after I've kiLLed all of tHe poLice guaRDing your door, aS this waS so oBviousLY a collaBoration witH the GothAm Police dEpartment to aTtemPt an entRapment).
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
…and, I'm bAck.
My coaT is a little worse for the wear, and I'm goINg to need a neW shirt. TiDe with bLeach does NOT get blOod out, KiDs. i doN't care what those comMerciaLs claiM.
I shoWed dorIS what chaos looKs like.
To shOw her apPReciation, she gaVe me a Piece of her MinD, Just liKe she saiD she wouLd.
And now it's sitTing here riGht neXt to me on the cOuch, all gray and WrinKLy. And a biT bLoodY, as paRt of her sKull and graY-haired sCaLP are still aTtached.
I'll turn To the Logo channeL on TV to kEep it entErtained. I'M thoughTful like that.
i won't have time to eNTertain it, becaUse i'Ve got letteRs to ansWer. PeoPLe to insuLt. DespiCabLe imaGes to conJure and reVolTing acts of vioLence to sugGest.
I liKe to turn thinGs insiDe-out and reVel in aLL the goRe.
ProVe me rIGht, Gotham. i KnoW you will.
TeLL me hoW much you loooooooooVe heaRing fRom me.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Do it, or i'LL cut out your eYes.
and I'll cuT out yOur aYes. (soRry, saiLors at the goTham porTs)
aNd i'll cut oUt your I's, which wiLL maKe GothaM C_ty and each _nd_v_dual _n _t feel a l_ttle b_t naKeD and _ncomPLete.
Ha haaaAaa ha,
hArdY har Har
-JokEr
P. Ess. tO ansWer her QuesTion about hOw i liVe with mYself... QuiTe comfoRtably, acTuallY, withOut a vacUum cLeaner, boTtle of hAnd saNitiZer, or feeLings of rEmorSe. LacKing aLL threE iS QuiTe liBeratinG, and i reCommend dOing wiThout thEm to all mY reaDers. bUt i Do haVe to hAve my raSpberry ZinGers, so i'M going to ruN down to Mr. PaK's stoRe and roB me somE eAts.
-4oC, 2011.12.17