Dispatch from Mt. Boreas 05
Along with a couple of empty urine barrels a helicopter dropoff yesterday included the excitement of a mail delivery all the way to our windswept mountain retreat. Eagerly awaited and forever to be appreciated were a tub of miso paste, some jasmine pearl tea and the most recent issue of the New Yorker, literary criticism and encouragement from Mac-Ops McMurdo, the latest edition of the "Antarctic Sun" newspaper and some color xeroxes of the notorious Halloween party you town-dwellers seem to make an annual event of, at which a trio of wags, perhaps starved for inspiration, appear to have taken advantage of our absence to impersonate our happy film crew. Pleased as we were to all be thus immortalized Sylvestre seemed slightly put out as his imitator, in his estimation, made him look "gay." Anne very much appreciated the genius Katie showed in destroying a pair of eyeglasses and hanging them around her neck on a rubber band. A true eye for the telling detail. For my part I need to warn you and the entire McMurdo community that I am certain, after careful analysis of the images, that the person wearing a false beard and carrying an inflated black plastic garbage bag on the end of a stick in a churlish effort to denigrate those of us in the sound-recording trade, is none other than wanted ice-terrorist Ali Fatah Morgana, living right in your midst. Show extreme caution when approaching this individual.