Re: Chuck Pagano’s “Welcome to Dadhattan” (June 17-23): One anonymous person wrote: “Ahhh, these 21st-century NYC parents. Such a charming sense of humor, as long as the focus of conversation remains their precious young’un, their stroller and their baby accoutrements.
Here’s an idea: Shift your efforts from selfdeprecating quips and gay-panic jokes to preventing your child from whining and wailing and running around restaurants, i.e., ruining Sunday for other Manhattan adults. Your offspring isn’t inherently interesting to anyone but you.” A commenter called Mao wrote: “Barf. Women work. Men work. Women have and raise children. Men do too—or at least should. Please share this with every woman you know. I’m sure you will get a lot of hugs.” Terry S., however, found it much more entertaining, writing: “Awesome stuff. Bitingly funny, but also quite poignant. Nice balance.Will definitely keep an eye out for your book of stories…”
Armond White’s review of Woody Allen’s Whatever Works sparked plenty of online chatter, with one writer attacking his oeuvre: “Allen is nothing more than a Tarantino for the art snob crowd. He turns Bergman’s spiritual yearnings into morbid nonsense in Interiors, he turns Godard’s political and moral exploration into nothing more than an amusing sexcapade in Annie Hall and every other film of his just relies on ‘paying homage’ to Groucho Marx or some European filmmaker.
“Every film of his has a female who serves as his perverse sexual fantasy (just like Tarantino and every Uma Thurman role).There is nothing redeemable about any of his films; his nebbish lead characters parade around to no end without ever coming to terms with any of the conflicts they inflict on themselves.
Allen should stop focusing on retreading European cinema and start paying attention to the popular Hollywood cinema of the ’30s and ’40s. Maybe then he would realize there are answers to his Psyche 101 questions and he would stop making insipid tripe.”
Our Bash Compactor article “Bye Bye, Betty,” about the closing of the Williamsburg club, prompted this reply: “Making way for more frat clubs and douche pits. Yay. But Sheila, you should have been meaner to the incoming owners. Where´s that acid wit?”
Dee Dee’s Dowry
Matt Harvey’s story about Vera Ramone King’s autobiography, “Poisoned Heart,” prompted one reader to comment: “Too bad the Ramones didn’t make as much money out of their career as the hangers on have. RIP Dee Dee, Joey & Johnny.”