Letter Writing 101

I was listening to Alanis Morissette yesterday. More specifically, I was listening to the song "Unsent." And I was reminded of high school for two reasons. One: I listened to that song repeatedly, along with the rest of my arsenal of terribly depressing songs, while staring at homework I had no intention of doing. Two: For those who don't know already, the song is written as a series of unsent letters expressing her true feelings for former lovers. I used to write similar letters--before I graduated to the more sophisticated method of bashing people on the internet for all the world to read. (If, of course, by "all the world," I mean all the world that has access to the internet, which really rules out a lot of people; but they're poor, so they don't matter, right?)

Anyway, I didn't write letters to anyone in particular. Alanis wrote the song for her ex's. I wrote letters to my parents, my siblings, myself, and anyone else who happened to evoke an emotional response or extended thought process from me--both of which are highly unacceptable. The letters were hilarious because they served no purpose. What must my thought process have been?

"Hey, I'm pissed. And I have a feeling that if I don't vent somehow, I'm going to actually engage in regular human interaction by communicating my feelings to someone else. I better do something about this. And quickly. I know! I'll write letters! That I never intend to send! That way, I can continue to further develop the unacceptable thought processes without engaging anyone else or resolving any issues or easing my mind at all. I'll just write until I get a hand cramp and then convince myself that I'm over it."

And thus the writing process would begin. Writing such a letter is harder than you think though. There are three key components that lead to the success or failure of such a letter.

1. Repetition. There must be some recurring theme. For those who are fans of Dane Cook, think of his explanation of hysterical sobbing and the repetition of "I did my best." This is the real essence of the letter. Kind of like a Republican with five minutes to speak, if you just keep repeating "terror," "fear," "commie bastard," "nucular," and "axis of evil" in a catchy rhythm, very few will notice that you didn't say anything of substance.
2. An overwhelming sense of confusion. If you're writing letters to addressees who will never receive the letters, then you're pretty much writing letters to yourself. You may as well resign yourself to insanity. Thus, for anything to make sense would be absurd. Everything about the world must confuse you--the actions of others, your reactions to the actions of others, everything right down to the very words you are writing.
3. A total lack of logic. If ever you had a logic or critical thinking class, now would be the time to remember everything you were taught not to do. All those non-sequitors? Use 'em. All those other fallacies? Yeah, use those too. Unjustified descriptive assumptions? Not a problem. If your letter flows logically, then you've missed the point of the exercise.

Now that you know what goes into an unsent letter, allow me to provide an example. This one comes straight from the heart, straight to the heart, and straight through the heart.

November 8th, 2006

Dearest Allison,

"Actions offered for the truth of the matter asserted." "Actions as hearsay." What is wrong with you? Here you are, sitting in your pajamas and robe in front of the computer, obsessing over nothing, drinking bottled water, staring at your reading glasses, and trying to figure out what the fuck happened to your life. Why can't you figure this out? Hmm? You're supposed to be so great. Actions as hearsay. Can't do it, can you? Do the world a favor and quit.

Oh, and need we mention how you've been parting your hair lately? Yeah. You think I don't notice that it keeps getting closer to the middle? I just don't understand you. I don't know why you think you need this. You don't need this. You don't need this hearsay shit. You don't need this for the truth of the matter asserted. You don't need anything that has to do with propensity evidence. You should just give up. Just give up. You're not good enough to pull this off.

What was with that 403 argument tonight? Can you not even apply a simple balancing test to the evidence? Apparently you don't need to know how to argue that the probative value of evidence is fairly balanced with the possible prejudicial effect it may have on the jury. Noooo. You don't need this. You don't need this shit. You don't need this. Actions as hearsay. You don't need to know how to be effective in this world or to succeed in any way. That's right, just aim for failure. That's a great idea. Hearsay.

I don't understand you. I really don't. And I don't know why you insist on writing this shit until your hand hurts when you could just as easily have told yourself to shut the fuck up and saved us all the trouble. You're so fucking neurotic that you can't even vent without polluting the world with your thoughts. Good job, dumb fuck.

Keep it up,

Allison

I don't even know what's wrong with me.