From: Drachen Fliegen
To: Eyeshot.net
Sent: Friday, June 29, 2001 6:22 PM
Subject: me and the Grace Jones safety belt I bought at the thrift

A page I have felt up and found nearing just that alcohol-smelling side of overripe.

Positive reinforcement for unacceptable behavior your
homepage is, Eyeshot. Bad, bad hotdog.

http://www.geocities.com/mercatorpile/62101.html

Thanks in retreat,
Drachen Fliegen

*

From: LK
To: Drachen Fliegen
Sent: Monday, July 02, 2001 10:52 PM
Subject: Re: me and the Grace Jones safety belt I bought at the thrift

Interview With Drachen Fliegen (Tentatively Scheduled For Eventual Integration into Eyeshot's Hindenburg Complex), Entitled: "A Retreater's Better Off A Receiver or A Retriever."

(Please respond to the following by hitting reply and writing
well-considered responses beneath each question below.)

Are you saying we reinforce behavior?

Are you saying Eyeshot is overripe or the mercatorpile?

Are you saying we are bad?

Are you saying we are hot dogs?

You have felt us up?

Or the mercatorpile?

Please explain how one feels up a website?

Did you grope?

Did we smile?

Did we feel you down?

Was there a post-groping coo-session?

What gives, Herr Fliegen?

What gives?

And in what direction?

Also, did you know my mother's hairdresser cut Grace Jones' hair?

Thank you.

Commandante, Operacion Interragacion Internationale de la Zona Eyeshot

*

From: Drachen Fliegen
To: LK
Sent: Tuesday, July 03, 2001 5:53 PM
Subject: Re: me and the Grace Jones safety belt I bought at the thrift

Deer, sir, 

Are not venison until the heart has stopped and fork and knife are inserted. Further, in the tradition of the antifurrier, I cannot condone your condescencion for it leaves me with retentive fist clenching. (My dental bill I have already mailed to your lawyer slash lover Melvin "The Belly" Belli.)

We spank your kind here in Alabamie, sir, and if you don't like Hank and the Ten Commandments, then you ain't shit.

The soggy hankie of Ol' Mother Dixie, sir, has hit the fairgrounds and our duel is on.

Riding with duelies, yours truly,
Soggy Kent Cigarettes.

*

From: LK
To: Drachen Fliegen
Sent: Tuesday, July 03, 2001 9:10 PM
Subject: Re: me and the Grace Jones safety belt I bought at the thrift

Dear Soggy Kent Cigarettes,

Your substantial entry to the database is appreciated and welcomed.

The mission of Eyeshot's Hindenburg Complex (EHC) is to provide easy access to best current knowledge and know-how.

This is particularly important in addressing the gap between what we know and what we do and closing it with massive benefit resulting.

The Eyeshot Framework for Gap Closing (EFGC) has been designed to set out a system which will close the gap between what we know and what we do, based on best current evidence. The EFGC Taskforce has been charged with the
responsibility for implementing the program of change and development which will transform existent gaps into inevitable closures.

The EHC will house the evidence base on which policy and its implementation are based, but users of EHC have asked for more information about the work of the EFGC Taskforce responsible for modernization, and to do this we are setting up information zones in which messages from users will be made quickly and easily available, and linked to their respected branches.

Thank you, kind sir, by which we also mean: fuck off, jitbag . . . which is our way of saying "you payment will not be taxed in the current year."

Processing your transmission in accordance to international regulations,

Kofi "My Three-Bean Dinner Don't" Sitwell

*

From: LK
To: Drachen Fliegen
Sent: Thursday, July 05, 2001 2:24 PM
Subject: Re: me and the Grace Jones safety belt I bought at the thrift

By the way, "fuck off, jitbag" was amiably intended . . . In no way would I like for you to fuck off, and actually, I'm not sure what a jitbag actually is. Do you know? I don't know.

*

From: Drachen Fliegen
To: LK
Sent: Sunday, July 08, 2001 11:28 AM
Subject: two emails in a week

Quit pushing me -- I'm working here!

Actually, I think I saw a jitbag once, in a mirror.

I need a name for my new online music project, a bunch
of sound collages, and I think "jitbags" should be a
part of that name. 

I'll mail your "residuals" when they start pouring in.

Shivering Jitbags?

No, Fine-Tailored Jitbags!

Deavours Kemp, FTJ

*

From: Drachen Fliegen
To: LK
Sent: Monday, July 09, 2001 8:33 PM
Subject: Rank this mole on my ass

There's so much I want to say, but not to you.

I'm in a lovesong type of mood this day and have
plenty of toilet paper so there is no need for either
you or your face.

Come to think of it, there's no need for me either.
Just pop a tape into the VCR and grab the nearest
collection of any ol' body's collected poems...

Have a webpage, Mr. Big (Eye)Shot:

http://www.geocities.com/mercatorpile/rankpimples.html

Actually, if I was capable of loving anyone, first
there'd be myself, then all the quarterbacks who God's
gonna favor in week 1 as I lay down my money, and
third like you and that mangy dog by the trash cans
near my building who lets me pet him when there's
nothing left to eat.

I'm going away now,
Deavours Kemp, innoculated Kinderkare disciplinarian

*

From: Drachen Fliegen
To: LK
Sent: Monday, July 09, 2001 8:44 PM
Subject: dippest apologies

I am tired of being mean to you. I have had an easy
life and am jealous of everyoen else who can both
justify being "rough" and being magnanimous
(multipl;ied by all the "rough" shit they've been
through).

I am inviting you to my ice cream social on Wednesday.

Please bring some ice cream,
Ken.

No, not Ken but that other guy who fucked her.

*

From: LK
To: Drachen Fliegen
Sent: Wednesday, July 11, 2001 10:47 PM
Subject: Re: dippest apologies

Ken,

I thought you were appearing tonight at the Union Square Barnes & Noble in Manhattan. When I stepped to the mic after the reading and said "Ken, the reading's good and all -- but what about the ice cream?" . . . it was made immediately clear to me that you are not, and never have been, Nick Hornby. Mr. Hornby made it clear as well, to light applause and general amusement, that his name was Nick, not Ken, and that an absurdly expensive frappaccino was available on the store's second level, if I really needed ice cream. Then he stood, and then he dug for, and then he successfully retrieved, and then he held a few crumpled dollar bills out toward me. I said, "But Ken, I don't want your money. I want ice cream!" and then, at that moment, I realized the instructions stated that I should bring ice cream, which I hadn't. Mr. Hornby gracefully took a question on the otherside of the room
about the conquest of ohio river valley book clubs by black rebel motorcycle book clubs (who break the spines of wally lamb's bestsellers etc and have actually purreed into  light-chunk porpoise the pages of many a memoir), to which he answered, "i researched my book, i spoke to women. i will be spared" -- again the crowd applauded and he smiled like a sheep, that is, sheepishly. nevertheless, i had no ice cream, and i wanted ice cream, so i made it home, and am telling you all about it, and i want to put all this on eyeshot, and i want to incite people to send us ice cream. It's hot. We need more chilled and sweetened fat products to make it through to the change in the season.

Are you with me, Ken? Do we not all scream?

Next time you're in town, please meet me for an egg cream and slaw at Kent Tekulve's Underhanded Southpaw & Art Gallery Cafe at the corner of Driggs and Lorimer.

*

From: Drachen Fliegen
To: LK
Sent: Thursday, July 12, 2001 4:43 AM
Subject: Re: dippest apologies

Still "sussing out" the clues, as you folk say up there in South Dakoter. The ice cream means you're lactose intolerant, I get that part. (I too have found that sarcasm will get you everywhere in this world.) But the part about Barnes & Noble... does this mean I should go ahead and shake hands with the Man? Is the idea that this will distract the Man, releasing his grip that he will no longer be able to "hold us down"? Thus the revolution will begin and I, Brother Teresa,
shall be the first hero of the revolution!

Sorry, Lee (may I call you Lee?), I am a nudist so we can't have club meetings at Kent Tekulve's -- I have been turned away numerous times, but they were nice about it. At first I thought it was the color of my skin (farmer's tan mottled with plantar warts). Current plans include hair-growth formulas that I might accomodate both my need for nudity and the
"shirt and shoes" requirements at Kent's place and Huddle House. The Huddle House staff was NOT so nice, as they told me point blank that there's something creepy about a naked man in a Huddle House.

Brother Tersa, Father of the Reeevolution

Also p.s. My first act as token president of our nude new world will be to promote you to general. General Lee, that has a nice ring to it.

*

[Ed. Note. This correspondence appears without Drachen Fliegen knowing anything about its appearance. We are doing this behind his back. Do not tell him if you know him. Hee. Hee. In the future, when this correspondence is updated, we will include a link at the bottom of the opening page that will say "An Ongoing Correspondence With Drachen Fliegen." When you see this at the bottom of the page it'll mean something new has been pasted to the bottom of this file. We hope you have found this correspondence enjoyable. If you would like to correspond with Eyeshot in a similar manner, let us know. If you have similar correspondence archives which you would like to make public, please prepare them for submission as per the above style, then submit them. Thank you.]