Thanks for sending in this article about the Beastie Boys. The Institute for Musical and Neurologic Function (which, as I’m sure you know, was “founded on the idea that music has unique powers to heal, rehabilitate, and inspire -- and that we can use music therapy to restore and improve our physical, emotional, and neurological health”) is certainly a topic appropriate for TMT. I think it’s great that you encourage readers to attend the benefit show on March 4, 2008 at Terminal 5 in New York City. While the $75 ticket price might be a bit steep for some of our buys-clothing-off-craigslist readership, I think that at least some of them will buy tickets from Ticketmaster.
What I am more concerned with is your headline (“I Hope The Beastie Boys E-mail Me And Tell Me That I’m Cool”) and the general tone of your article. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I do not believe that phrases like “it’s too bad I’m not gay, because then all four of us could totally man-bone” are appropriate to music journalism. And your assertion that “Adrock invented brainz in da fifteenf century” is both poorly spelled and historically inaccurate.
It’s been a great run. I’ll give you that. When you weren’t busy writing thinly-veiled attempts to befriend bands that you like, you actually managed to produce some fairly cohesive articles that conveyed information. I will certainly miss your commitment to correcting the grammar of other TMT articles. No one has a dedication to the non-modifiable adjective quite like yours.
Nonetheless, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to let you go. I’ve received an overwhelming number of phone calls from the Beastie Boys of late, all begging me to ask you to stop hiding in their respective kitchen cabinets and crawl spaces. Also, Mike D has specifically requested that you stop sending him pictures of you two performing together at the Grammys. He has repeatedly told me that the photos are “clearly photoshopped” and that he would “definitely remember that.”
Good luck with the rest of your career. I’m sure a writer of your caliber and experience could easily find a job at Pitchfork or Blender, but I think we both know you’d rather not sully your reputation. Please leave your cassette player and sense of irony on my desk by Friday.
Eat a bag of dicks,