I want to commend Jessica Gould for her cover article on violence in D.C. clubs (“The Death of the Party,” 3/9). Over a period of weeks, Ms. Gould took all of the steps of responsible journalism to compose a thoughtful and fair article. She tells me that it was her first cover story, and she can take satisfaction in the fact that it was well done.
Contrast all of that with the sorry state of James Jones Who Is Loose Lips.
Jones was spotted at the District Building last Thursday with a couple of dozen under his arm. Like the Paper Boy from Hell, he was gleefully passing them out to one and all.
He wanted people to see his Latest Revenge aimed at me (Loose Lips, “Apologies to Mr. Graham,” 3/9).
What had I done?
I had complained to his editor about the fairness and accuracy of a statement he had made the week before.
The nerve of Jim Graham!
I’ll show him, James surely thought, I’ll carry this to an even more insulting level, and then I’ll personally deliver the copies. He had to go to that level—or should I say, depth—because he could not justify or even explain the original comment.
When James Jones Who Is Loose Lips first became Loose Lips, I told him that he would not be likely to succeed. I had worked with him when he was a reporter for WAMU, and I was sure he would be too sincere, too careful of his facts, just too much of a journalist for all of what Loose Lips would demand.
Boy, did he prove me wrong. The James Jones Who Is Loose Lips soon showed me and everyone else that he was as good a word thug as anyone. His column last Thursday chugs along, oozing bile at every step…unfair, inaccurate, scurrilous, but lively reading. And isn’t that all that matters?
Jessica, you are off to a fine start. But take heed of the sad example of James Jones Who Is Loose Lips. You will want to become a journalist at City Paper, not lose that status.
Councilmember, Ward 1
The Courage of Their Evictions
I found your article on art students displaced from the Randall School amusing (The District Line, “Studio Theater,” 3/9). Wasn’t it just a couple of years ago that homeless men were being driven out of Randall so that those students could squat there? I’m sorry if it sounds like I have no pity for Ian Jehle and the other residents, but most of my empathy is reserved for the homeless men who still gather in front of the building while waiting for the bus to shuttle them quietly behind the walls of St. Elizabeths Hospital, where affluent white persons won’t have to be exposed to their abject poverty. If Ian and his friends need to find a new place to stay, I hear they still have open beds at the shelter—that is, until another group of gentrifiers comes to displace them.
Due to a production error, Justin Moyer’s byline was omitted from last week’s One Track Mind about the Vita Ruins.