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Letters from readers

 

I get quite a few letters from Sting fans who have somehow stumbled upon the Temple of Sting website or zine. Many of them are along the lines of "You stupid bitch, don't you know Sting rocks?" Guess what? Letters like this are not inclined to make me change my opinion on Sting, his music, and his fans. But they sure do make me chuckle. Here are some of the most recent letters from readers, both anti-Sting and pro-Sting, sent to me by e-mail or snail mail. Keep those letters coming!

I really think you have too much time on your hands..I think you are just jealous that you don't have a fucking ounce of his talent. The guy is one of the greatest song writers that I can think of. He has one of the greatest voices in music. His lyrics are simply brilliant. The greatest musicians around flock to him. (Branford Marsalis, Kenny Kirkland, Vinny Cayutta, Omar Akim, etc...) You would not know talent if it was shoved up your ass. I did get a laugh at your website though.. I laughed at just how much trash there is in the world. I am sure Sting is laughing too, you pathetic loser. i would love to see a picture of you...i picture Butt-head from Beavis and Butthead. Wearing a mega-deth shirt, braces, 90 pounds, once a week shower taking, 37 yr old, still living at home, smoking hash, and jerking off all day...do you actually have an occupation? your [sic] probably a professional roadee for some young "up and coming" punk band. Perhaps you are jealous that you probably could not get a date if your life depended on it, while Sting could have anyone he wanted. Yes you may reply to me if you like..I would love to hear from you.
-love
Lawrence Spiegel
lspeigel17@hotmail.com

you sad bitch, dont you know that STING rocks? oh and by the way, nice name!?
BOAR01@stannes.cumbria.sch.uk

Dear Janine,

About once a year or so, I like to go to the "Down with Sting" webpage just for laughs, and found that yet another has joined on to this bullocks that Sting is "EVIL," as you put it. But hey, I found it amusing, and would even like to get your 'Temple of Sting' zine.

While I do not agree with your thesis, I do find some incriminating evidence to be possible...El Nino, for example...But I'm surprised that as of yet, you have made no mention to his film, "The Bride." If you have not viewed that astrocity yet, I suggest that you rent it, and do a review. It does help to vilify your cause, and again, while I don't agree with you, it does present some validity...I guess my question is though, when did you realize that Sting was Evil? I, myself, have always thought that Michael Stipe was the Anti-Christ, and that Kevin Costner was a demon, so I admire you speaking out on your Anti-Sting tirade, even if I happen to find him second in line to the Messiah (Peter Gabriel.) Well, maybe not second...Morrissey belongs somewhere up there too. So, he's in the trinity, none the less...And your points on bees and Sting really did make me think twice. You are right, I'd never put Sting in my tea. But again, I wouldn't really want to sleep with honey either, or hang up posters of bees, yet, admist this room, there are at least 4 pictures of Sting, and the Police. Not even to mention the ones that I put in the lounge of my apartment that I share with 5 other girls, who all find him to be attractive, and talented. But, alas, I About once a year or so, I like to go to the "Down with Sting" webpage just for laughs, and found that yet another has joined on to this bullocks that Sting is "EVIL," as you put it. But hey, I found it amusing, and would even like to get your 'Temple of Sting' zine.

While I do not agree with your thesis, I do find some incriminating evidence to be possible...El Nino, for example...But I'm surprised that as of yet, you have made no mention to his film, "The Bride." If you have not viewed that astrocity yet, I suggest that you rent it, and do a review. It does help to vilify your cause, and again, while I don't agree with you, it does present some validity...I guess my question is though, when did you realize that Sting was Evil? I, myself, have always thought that Michael Stipe was the Anti-Christ, and that Kevin Costner was a demon, so I admire you speaking out on your Anti-Sting tirade, even if I happen to find him second in line to the Messiah (Peter Gabriel.) Well, maybe not second...Morrissey belongs somewhere up there too. So, he's in the trinity, none the less...And your points on bees and Sting really did make me think twice. You are right, I'd never put Sting in my tea. But again, I wouldn't really want to sleep with honey either, or hang up posters of bees, yet, admist this room, there are at least 4 pictures of Sting, and the Police. Not even to mention the ones that I put in the lounge of my apartment that I share with 5 other girls, who all find him to be attractive, and talented. But, alas, I have not one poster of a bee. And only one honey jar, while I have numerous Sting cd's, tapes, t-shirts, and other such items (framed autograph for example.) And well, despite what you say, Sting has never killed anyone...He couldn't even kill Paul Atrides, for goodness sake, even though Kyle's acting in that film made me believe that he was virtually braindead. Even as Ace the Face, King of the Mods, Sting may have beaten up authorities, but not one death occurred, AND proves that the man can dance, and look very very sexy as well. But it is not of course his sex appeal that I am speaking about, but his inate talent, beauty, and capablity to reach my soul. Bees, while they have beauty, they have never reached my soul, and HAVE killed people. AND No one that I know of is allegric to Sting...have you ever thought of that?
Well, I guess that is enough for now. I do hope that you do check your e-mail regularily and update your page. More pictures of Sting would be very nice. Keep up the good work, I really enjoy those inside Sting stories.

Simone Fox

I love your magazine. And I agree with you that the way of the bees should rule. I feel lucky that your ideas and work have made it out to tempe, az. you're so refreshing. i especially love the geoff farnia interview [issue #1]. he's sweet. thanks so much.
love,
yolanda bejarano


Dear Queen Bee,

Enclosed is a little Anti-Sting piece that I hope will be of interest to you. I hope Temple of Sting is still a going concern. I haven't seen a copy since I moved back to Montana. Not much subversive literature reaches us out here, probably because Montana, along with several other western states, is actually a giant ranch belonging to Sting's genetically engineered alter ego, Garth Brooks. Anyway, check this out:

The bees may be regarded as superior to the human race in this, that from their own substance they produce another which is useful; while, of all our sections, there is not one good for anything; nay, there is not one which does not render mankind disagreeable - Voltaire

(Voltaire devotes several pages of his Philosophical Dictionary to a wonderful description of bees. If you haven't already read it, do check it out.)

Sincerely,

Todd Balazic

SEVEN THINGS STING WOULD NEVER SAY
by Todd Balazic

1. Maybe I should take some acting lessons.
2. What can I do to help put an end to Brazilian prostitution?
3. Yeah, I guess I am kind of a pompous ass.
4. I secretly control the universe.
5. Hey Andy, do you mind if I cash in by allowing a sample of your old guitar work to be used in a ridiculous cover of an old Police song?
6. Please give this award to someone more deserving than myself.
7. Your creative input is always welcome.

Editor's note: The following letter is the longest one Temple of Sting has ever received, clocking in at a whopping double-spaced, neatly typed, 3 pages. Ron had impeccable spelling and grammar and was witty, so I decided to publish his letter in full. But don't any of you other dear readers try sending me a letter this long everagain! Keep it to a page or two, will you? By the way, Ron's zine mentioned in the end of this letter was going to be reviewed in TOS, but I lost it somewhere along the way when I moved to Boston, before I had a chance to read it. I am so sorry, Ron. Anyway, if you like his letter, consider checking out his zine, Soul Invictus (soulinvictus@yahoo.com).

To Janine "Queen Bee" Papp, please consider publishing the following, as:
GOD IS DEAD... PASS IT ON
by Ron Leighton
I confess: As a semi-geekoid (What's that? Drop the "semi"?), bisexual knucklehead, I once worshipped at the alter of the god Sting (and the lesser gods Stuart Copeland and Andy Summers). I made pilgrammeges to his appearances - once in his Old Testament Police-phase (after driving 450 miles with my Sting-look-alike high school buddy!) and once during his New Testament "solo" phase. I was, during my (early, but by no means finished) awkward years, utterly smitten with all things Sting. I would stare adoringly at his pictures. I would memorize his words, prosaic as well as, um, poetic. I would stumble through my days, meditating on Stingism. I would proselytize, too: I would implore others to give themselves to Sting, as I had in spirit (and so desperately wished to do in the flesh). Like all fundamentalist freaks, I considered disbelievers bound for hell - that is, if there were a hell worse than the spiritual squalor of Stinglessness in the here and now. As a bi-boy, I could not decide which I would prefer more: To be Sting, or to be stung by Sting. I wanted to have my Sting-cake and eat it, too.
I can't believe I'm telling you this.
Now I am over him. Sort of. I would still like to lick whipped-cream from his manhood. I just wouldn't kiss his ass while doing it - at least not figuratively. That right. I am now a recovering Stingaholic. I am a heretic. An atheist. I am a sledgehammer-weilding iconoclast looking to smash all graven images of his Stingness. Yes, it must be said: God is dead. And besides, as Michael Bakunin put it, "Even if God existed, it would be necessary to abolish him."
I am now a disbeliever for three reasons: One, his music (mostly) sucks now; two, I no longer suffer (mostly) from the delusion that beauty=goodness; and three, my tastes have broadened and, I daresay, deepened. There's more to pop music than Sting. There's more to music than pop music, and so on and so forth.
The most interesting things about Sting (apart from his still rather dazzling beauty [I am such a (cock)sucker]), were/are his too-brief and too-shallow Brechtian detour (there must be a whole mine-full of raw gems in that), his interest in musical variety and his funkier, quirkier, and unfortunately, rarer stuff. Yet these are the things that he has given the shortest shrift. Or maybe that it's just that he does them badly. After all, an appreciation for country music is one (but not really my) thing, while recording muzac that sounds like a hellish mixture of one part Christopher Cross and one part Garth Brooks is another. If you're gonna steal from different musics, steal the good stuff, will ya? Sometimes mixing is mixing and sometimes it's just diluting. He says his countrified stuff is tongue-in-cheek. Well, I'm not laughing! In fact, it's so crappy, I can't stop crying.
Occasionally, there have been songs that are, at least to me, pretty satisfying. (Much like I still think "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" is a good idea even though I despise Christianity.) Songs like "Children's Crusade", Fields of Gold", "All This Time", and "Let Your Soul Be Your Pilot" I have liked as genuinely and as deeply as I disliked most of the rest of his "solo" stuff. "If I Ever Lose My Faith In You", for instance, is a horridly mechanical, soulless piece of shit song. How ironic: "If I Ever Lose My Faith In You".
From Sting's point of view, the best thing about his "solo" career is that he's in charge; everything's done his way and he doesn't have to fight for his ideas any more. Well, what's good for his will to power is not so good for his music. Not that Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers were paragons of artistic purity and goodness, devoid of nay crass and egoistic motivations, or that Sting is/was the very opposite, but it seems to me that Sting's best music came into being when he had to share power, even if only a little bit. My long-lingering (but now long-dead) hopeof an ultimate Police album was inspired by the likes of "Masoka Tanga" and "Murder By Numbers", as well as some of the quirkier stuff from the Brimstone and Treacle soundtrack and elsewhere. Some of Sting's solo stuff rather screams "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!"
The trajectory of Sting's star trip seems to be the polar opposite of Elvis' horrible decline and self-destruction. But apparently there are worse things than dying a has-been fat-fuck on your toilet. Death really is the best thing stars can do after all. Maybe Warhol's 15 minutes of fame thing was a literal warning. "Thus far and no further!"
Though I am now a Stingless heathen, willing and able to think a little more critically about His Stingness, I nevertheless brislte at the suggestion that Sting belongs in the same category as, say, His Travesty, the Dwvil, known more popularly as Michael Bolton. However - ARE YOU LISTENING, STING? - you are barreling down the road to Michael Boltonness, and the way is broad and easy! Beware, Sting, and repent! Forget the focus groups and marketing strategies and the whole star trip. Shake off the pseudo-country crossover maneuvers. In a word or seven, Get back to where you once belonged!
Or don't. I don't really care. I think it'll just be better if I rid myself of any lingering hopes of what you could be. It's time for another '76-like revolt. Fuck the pop stars (and the punk ones, too). As Jefferson said it, Thomas, that is, not George, "a little rebellion now and then is a good thing." And, to paraphrase a heretical French preist, "It'll be a great day when the last pop star is strangled with the guts of the last record comapny executive ."
Now, undoubtedly, Sting will send legions of his dyed-blonde dark angels against me, to seduce me (... the flesh is weak, the spirit is strong, the flesh is weak...) He may even appear to me himself, waving his special powers of persuasion in my face. I can resist everything except that temptation. I must be strong...
Psst... God is dead... pass it on.

Yours drooly,

Ron Leighton
aka Norman Vincent Spiel

PS. I've also enclosed a copy of the most recent incarnation of my way-too-serious zine, Soul Invictus. Bee gentle, if you review it, or I'll have to spank your naugthy little bee-hind.

PPS. As for bees, I like 'em just fine as long as they're not landing on me - unless it's you, my darling Queen Bee! And boy oh boy, do I have a seven inch for you to review. Heh, heh, heh...

'Bye now. Bi forever.