This Is The Last…

One of my favorite bloggers, Torr, shares my obsession of all things Morrissey. In 1981 a guy named Robert Mackie was pen-pals with a guy named Steven Patrick Morrissey. Sometime in the late ’80s Mr. Mackie photocopied the letters into a fanzine called “Words by Morrissey”, which he then made available to anyone for the cost of postage. Torr took the time and effort to type up all of these letters and he recently just reposted them on his blog.

You can read them all here. Even in 1981, Morrissey is just oozing with sarcasm. Please take the time to read through all of them, they’re damn funny.

Here’s are a couple of excerpts…

Dear person,

So nice to know there’s another soul out there, even if it is in Glasgow. Does being Scottish bother you? Manchester is a lovely place, if you happen to be a bedridden deaf mute. I’m unhappy, hope you’re unhappy too.

In poverty,
Steven
——————————————————————————–
October 13th

Dear Paganini,

I’d thank you for your letter, but why should I? You didn’t thank me for mine. And please don’t call me “Steve”; it reminds me of the Bionic man, to whom I bear little resemblance. It’s almost worse than being called “Stephen” which reminds me of someone with a snotty nose. So, please call me “Steven”. Am I being unreasonable? Actually, I hate the name Steven, but I won’t go into THAT. Rob is a strange name. Is it short for Rabid?

I was astounded to see the word “paroxysm” in your epistle - it must have taken you ages to find THAT ONE, Sonny. You may not believe that I’ve seen Scarey Bowie 14 times, but really, that’s YOUR problem. However, the fact remains that I have (and, as the great Dr. Phyliss Chessler M.D. once said, “facts speak louder than statistics”.) I saw Him first on September 3, 1972, and last on May 3, 1976. Why is it so impossible? And you say you’ve never seen him - shame!

I was born in Odessa, Texas. I repeat, why is it so impossible? You have a lot to unlearn, sonny. Are you really 18? My, my, how fascinating. You sound like such a fascinating person. No, I’m not a ’shop dummy’ (such wit!), I don’t work, except on my genius. I suppose you work in a factory? Your type usually do. Your list of Bowie platters was riveting. I have more or less the same ones. Isn’t life strange?

Do you really like Kate Bush? I’m not surprised. The nicest thing I could say about her is that she’s unbearable. That voice! Such trash! You’ll learn, Sonny. Have you noticed I’ve called you ‘Sonny’ three time? Does it annoy you at all? Please answer. You ask, in your usual mesmerizing manner ‘Why do we slag each other?’. Well, you’re such an easy touch! No, seriously (who’s joking?), YOU encourage it. I’m usually such a pleasant, undemanding soul really. Are you married? Such a silly question!!! Do you live with mom & pops? Do you have any other cheery young ‘n trendies like YOU at home? Tell all.

You say you listen to “some electronics”. Does that mean Miss Numan? If so, it was nice knowing you…

Besides Bowie, I dribble over the New York Dolls, Jobriath, Nico, and Magazine. Have you heard these people?

Did you get many replies to your fab ad? Anyone as fascinating as me? Don’t answer that.

Did you see vintage Bowie on the OGWT 70’s review? Almost funny if the rest of the programme wasn’t such an obvious self-gratification slot for Mother Harris. Nice to see Alice Cooper, and weren’t Roxy Music just Fab City?

So, which is your most treasured Bowie waxing? Or is it possible to say? See, a whole 1/4 page without an insult! “Ah’s losin’ mah touch” as the late great Tallulah Bankhead once said. “Is all life sad?” as the late great Jayne Mansfield said. “Bye, bye, poncho!” I said that.

I’m glad you enjoyed me in Rebel Without A Cause.

Love & trash,
Natalie Wood

You can read them all here.