Letter to Rolling Stone

Dear editor, Rolling Stone Magazine;


I have recently begun writing many of the great national magazines- Tropical Fish Hobbyist, Boating, The New Yorker, Cat Fancy (now Catster!)- about publishing my fearsome short essays that have been so unpopular on the Internet. However, the fact that I almost never write about tropical fish, boats, or New York has, I feel, hampered me in this endeavor.

On the other hand, despite writing occasionally about Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and reasonablist politics, all bailiwicks of your magazine, I have not, until now, considered approaching your magazine with my ink-stained fingers. Don't worry though, you are every bit the magazine that Boating is.

So what changed, you ask.

I had a visitation! It was, like, a mystical visitation of destiny!

I know. Exciting, yes?

Hunter S. Thompson came to me in a vision.

I was typing at my computer in my basement late at night when, suddenly, there he was. He had to stoop because my basement ceiling beams are pretty low. He looked a bit thin. He was fiddling nervously with a pen. He glanced at me and started talking.

Unfortunately I couldn't understand a word he said. You at Rolling Stone would surely know him far better than I. Did he always mumble so horribly? And if it was just the mumbling I could perhaps have figured out some of what he was talking about, but he talked so fast.

As Hunter S. Thompson faded out of my basement and continued what I hope is not a permanent march to obscurity, I was left alone in the night to puzzle out the meaning of our mystical encounter. But crippled by my inability to understand a word of his gibberish I had to give it up and chalk it up on the list of things I will never understand about this world.

Then I saw it. He left his pen behind. It was sitting on the cold cement floor of my basement. And get this, the pen read "Rolling Stone Magazine"!

At least, I think it said "Rolling Stone Magazine". The black print on the pen is so faded away that one can only mostly guess at the letters. It also might say "Road and Track Magazine" or "Runner's World Magazine". But no matter what it says I am confident that this is a sign, an important sign of destiny. So I am sending you, Road and Track, and Runner's World Magazines all the following samples of my work.

I look forward to working with one of you.


Kind regards,



F. Calypso