Letter from a Collection of They Might Be Giants Records

Holy shit! Guys...guys, wake up. Flood, Lincoln, Back To Skull EP...eyes forward, something's happening. Someone's opened up the box and I think it's Edward. After all this time I think Edward's come back for us! I knew NYU wouldn't change him. Once you've heard "Ana Ng", how can our quirky art-school new wave rhythms ever truly leave the mind?

You know what I bet happened is that Edward has an english class that he has to do a musically themed project for. I wonder what the subject is? We cover a wide array of oblique subjects, don't we boys? Lincoln, you alone have addiction, divorce, religion, militarism, cynicism (well, we all have cynicism) and more. Maybe he's a preschool teacher in training now - do they teach that at NYU? - and he needs Why Does The Sun Shine?. I hope so, because I've stopped being able to reach the smiling guy for months now. He's totally drawn inside himself and I hate seeing him like that. I wonder if he's collectible now? Yes, we all know you are, cassette version of They'll Need A Crane single. There's no need to bring it up again.

Whoop! Hey, the box is moving the box is moving look out Chocolate & Cheese by Ween! I'm sliding straight at ya!

Geez guys, check out how much his room has changed. All the posters are gone! David Bowie, the drinking bird, that one with John Cusack in Say Anything...where'd they go? Maybe they're up at his dorm room at NYU. That John Cusack one was always pretty sharp, and I bet he put up the drinking bird one so people would ask him what it's all about.

What's that, Apollo 18? You wonder where his t-shirts are? Yeah, that's a good question. I mean, I can only see his hands right now but I can see he's wearing a sweatshirt. Maybe he has the shirt from your tour on underneath that. It could be winter for all we know, I haven't been keeping track of the exact time so well.

You know what I hope he does? I mean, besides take us out of the box, that is. I hope he takes the plastic wrap off of Severe Tire Damage. I'd like to hear what that album has to say, plus just having him laying there unmoving is way wayyyyy too much like having a dead body laying around.

There he is! There he is! It's Edwa...whoa...where did that beard come from? What have they been feeding you out there at NYU, Ed? Maybe this is what happens when you're deprived of intelligent musical discourse backed by frantic hooks, nasal-powered voices, and accordions. Yeah...yeah the more I look at him the more I think that's true. I mean, look at that haggard face. That face has not heard the unstoppable bop of "Birdhouse In Your Soul" in a long long time.

He's shifting his hands around in here. I wonder what he's looking for? I mean, it has to be us, right? How can he not notice us here right at the top? Altogether we represent a decade's worth of spastic power pop brilliance. We were indie before indie was indie. I can understand him ignoring all those Dinosaur Jr. tapes, they all sound the same -- no offense guys -- but we have nooks and crannies I'm sure he hasn't even found yet.

Flood, if he picks you up you gotta put in a good word for us. You're the best chance we have at salvation. Try and ignore all the skips and scratches on your CD back, okay? Give him the best time he's had in years, then he'll come for all of us. Flood, dude, you GOTTA do this. Come on, "Istanbul"? "Letterbox"? "Dead"? Even your loser tracks are winners. It doesn't get easier than that and I don't want to hear any complaining from you.

Edward's talking to someone, I hear a female voice. He's looking away...what's she saying? Is that Heather? I can't tell. Heather! If it is you, remember the time that Edward and you hung out in his room and he popped me in and told you that this song was how he felt about you? Do you remember that song, Heather? "She's An Angel"! Do you know the only place that song is? In this box! You owe your entire relationship to me, Heather, please don't let me rot away in here.

Wait, what was that word that Edward just said? "Good will", I think? There's hope then, right?He's come and seen the error of his ways, the love that he left behind, and he's going to free us to see the light of a new day! Good will means he's going to be nice to us, I'm sure of it!

The box is closing. The box is closing. You guys the box is closing. What's going on? Are we going back in the closet or is he taking us somewhere else, like his dorm room? Maybe he and Heather have a house now and there's lots of shelves for all the CD's and music he couldn't take with him to school. I have to know. Oh god I can't...I don't think I can take it in his dark dusty box without cracking. Edward, open this back up, let me know there's a future for us. Let me know we're alright. You'd do that if you were carting a pet around in a box, wouldn't you? You'd reassure and try to soothe it. Well we're like your pets, Edward. We love you unconditionally, we only want to make you happy. We want to see you boisterously singing along to "Dinner Bell" like you always did.

Edward. Edward please open this box. I don't feel safe in here anymore. John Henry has an ax.

Letter from An Actual Person

The first time this "Letter of the Week" blog has received an actual letter! Read on...all three of you.

The Prince and Harry
by Jason Boodgewah

“Don’t larf at the dog they say they say,” cried the wicked gnome, “or you’ll get it, too.”

Once upon a time in a far away land, not too far from here- but far enough that an automobile must have been used to reach there -lived a Prince and his dog. The Prince was hairy and the dog was of that name. The Prince would walk Harry outside once a day no more, but often less. Some of the times, the common folk outside the castle would laugh at the dog and point. This mutt had a condition you see, one that you wouldn’t want. Perhaps you shouldn’t even hear about it. Perhaps you feel that the learning of this condition would somehow subject you to contracting this condition. Perhaps you have this condition and perhaps I don’t wish to make you feel ashamed since this condition has just been referred to as something one should be embarrassed to have.

It is not even worth stating, so I guess I won’t, but if I didn’t you might miss something important so I will tell you that this ridicule would sadden the dog to no end. Some have claimed that they have seen the dog cry tears as a human would. The only exception is that Harry’s tears smelled of dog food.

“Well,” the Prince would often, with a sense of piousness, proudly proclaim to his pooch, “they are no better than you. This horrible condition has rendered you to appear as a wretch to many- so grotesque that the average man becomes squeamish and recoils in disgust (and vomits on occasion when a receptacle is near), that an entity so pure and untainted as an infant cries in horror, that there is not one living being like you and not one that would wish upon one’s evilest enemy to be like you in your state of being-, but I find that it gives you an enormous amount of character, old boy. You should hold your dog head up high for you are one of God’s children and so am I. Therefore, we are brothers and no brother of mine shall be looked upon or talked upon as a creature of repugnance.”

The Prince had a way with words that very few did in the village or the castle for that matter. Harry liked to be complimented in this way and as a result, his tail would wag left to right or right to left (depending on who you’d ask).

Letter from a Demoralized Clown

I just...god. I only wanted to make children happy, you know?

There is so much happiness in being able to hold your own child in your arms. There is so much love that it dwarfs every other matter. You will be more fierce and at the same time more gentle than you ever thought possible; you will live solely for the purpose of protecting and guiding this innocence. In that regard, I can't blame her decision to push for sole custody of William. I miss him so much, though. God and heavenly Jesus... He'll be two next week.

One of the great things about William is how he smiled at everything. He's a luminous little boy, tapping into this deep well of happiness that I wish...I thought I could find it if I clowned for children. It would put smiles on their faces, and it would give me something really meaningful to do. Also it would pay the alimony that I owe her every month. I've never been behind on those payments, not once. I'll admit there have been a few close calls, but she's never wanted for William, she's never wanted for anything in her entire fu--. That's another 50 cents in the jar. I am working through the swearing thing. I am.

Did you know clown colleges are in the yellow pages? Still! Even in this wireless information age, you can still find these things just by cracking open a book some dude tosses at your door once a month. (Or that you stole from town hall, not that anyone needs to know about that.) There are two of them within a forty minute distance from here. Who would have ever thought? There's nothing but hills in this part of New York. Hills and fishin' holes.

I do most of my work in the Buffalo area suburbs, which is usually an hour and a half from Olean. I'm thinking when I get back on my big goofy clown feet I'll hit up the Cleveland market about two hours west. Which is good, you know, because sometimes a change in your life can be a real motivator. Sometimes it's completely forced on you, but you have to keep running with it all the same. I need to repeat that at least five times a day. I need to really let that sink in, you know. Five times a day.

I'm not ready to talk about the daycare yet, so please don't bring that up... Yeah I know you're concerned but, I mean, you're a guest in my house and I asked you not to... No, it wasn't anything like that, get your mind...get it out of the gutter. Everyone has their mind in the gutter, everyone is always ready to assume the worst about someone they don't even know. They don't even know what I look like in real life! All they've seen is the clown makeup and the wig! That's not me! Not even this...not even this flannel and and and this hat. That's not even me. Nobody is who they look to be and you'd think that as a parent, as a parent they would know this. They would be able to sense people like they sense the soul of their child.

It was just that one little kid. That one little malevolent sh...brat who just had to keep going. I was just the entertainment! That kids presents costed more than I did and he doesn't have alimony to pay! He doesn't have insurance and phone bills and oil bills that rocket higher every month! It's not my fault! There are things that clowns do that are perfectly normal! It wasn't me! I don't want to talk about this! I don't want to talk about this!! I can't talk about this!! MY THERAPIST SAYS I CAN'T TALK ABOUT THIS!!

Oh God, I can't breathe. I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe. You gotta...gotta run to the bathroom. The orange thing with the pills. I can't breathe. I just wanted to make them smile. I just wanted to spread happiness. Look at what you've done to me, you cunt. I lost control again. You make me lose control. I wish I had never met you. Look at the mess. The children will never trust me again. I want to see William, goddammit. I'll do anything to be with him. I can't...thank you. Oh Jesus...oh that's better. That's great. Fuck... I can't -- you should leave now.

They took my clowning license away, you know. This world doesn't think I deserve anything.

Letter from Symbolism

No, I don't think I'm being unreasonable. In fact, I think I've been a really good sport about this whole "creative expression of humanity" fad, and I would appreciate it if you took the time to see where I'm coming from here. You can't tell me that I should be glad to be working when so many other Abstracts are on tough times. I don't accept that. Working and doing something actually worthwhile are different things. It's fabulous when they are become one, but that's so not the case now. You cannot use that argument.

Have you seen what they're doing with me? I am being stretched farther than I can go. No, here, sit down, I'm going to show you. Just let me hook up the DVD player and...what's a coaxial cable? I guess the red goes with the red here and you just hook up the two others like...there we go, it's stopped the static at least, but where's the... oh, okay, it just needed time to boot up, I guess.

Do you see that? Do you see that? I want to throw up just looking at this. I don't even know who this person is, but she sure believes she knows who the hell I am. Oh, stark shadows...good one, like that isn't a hundred fucking million years old. She's sad now, get it? Where have all the cowboys gone...? Oh where? Mummy wherrrrrre?

Yeah, you can borrow it. I don't know why you'd want to, but I won't miss it. Do you think you will? I'm telling you, the hours are becoming fewer and far between where I can actually stand being a pillar of emotive communication. It's become so no one will believe what someone is feeling unless they use me, and that's like crying wolf. I have lost all substance and definition!

I just want to rest for a little while, is that so much to demand? Go down there and shake myself out of all those insipid teenagers, bloggers, pop artists, auteurs, painters, politicians, Conor Oberst, fiction writers and...the list is endless. Everyone! Let's see how they make out without getting to drape their sentiments in sentiment. There'll be a lot less whining, that's for damn sure.

Nononononono, I'm not going for that line, you've said that before. "Just wait a century, the human race will scrape itself from the planet and you'll have everything to yourself." You said that during the Dark Ages and I ended up working harder than ever! You almost had me convinced during the Industrial Revolution, I'll admit, but they're still swimming along like so much well-meaning sperm. I don't bet that this Information Age is doing to be any different.

I'm just tired, alright? A few millennia just really grinds you down. Do you wanna go get a beer or something? I have a couple of micro-seconds before I'm due to work on the script rewrite for X-Men 3, I've got time for a Newcastle.

Thanks for listening. Sometimes I just get dramatic and I'm sorry to make you sit through that again. You're a really good friend, you know? I don't think there's anyone else I would have wanted to suffer through conscious thought with. Hey, I think I left my wallet in my car, you wouldn't mind buying the beers, would you?