I live in South Florida but visit Knoxville a few times a year. One of the first things I do when I get here is to get a current copy of the Metro Pulse, and check out the new eateries and current bands, then I settle into serious reading of the interesting articles over the next few days. This is not going to happen with the September 20th issue: I turned the cover to find yet another cover. Just what in the hell is that all about?
I can't help but think this was Kevin and Coury's alcohol-induced idea after having too many Blue Moons. Knowing it's better not to go near confused men under the influence of alcohol, I refuse to turn the "second front cover" page. No, I'm not in, not gonna bite, not gonna happen.
I will not be one of the those moths that fly into a flaming fire, taking it as a source of beauty after all the senses go for the object. We all know very well that action is always guided by a kind of knowledge or understanding. The activity of the senses is totally dependent on the way in which we behold the information, like what's inside the covers of the Metro Pulse, for example. As we see, so we act, and if our seeing is not proper, our action (turning the second front cover page) is and will be incorrect. Based on that incorrect perception, turning that second front cover page would only lead to more difficulty. "Oh, what if I find a third or fourth front cover page after having already turned one front cover only to find another front cover on the very next page—just what in the hell am I supposed to do if I find more cover pages inside?"
This is my complaint with the alcohol-induced "two front cover page" September 20th concept. The thing is, I simply cannot understand the "two front cover page" situation properly, and yet you expect me to rush headlong into your paper going deeper into the mire with every turn of a page, from which I may not easily put the darn thing down.
I'm going to give your paper one last try but not until I have received counseling—and yes, I hold you responsible for this. How can I possibly pick up another Metro Pulse with all this drama and mental trauma this September 20th issue has created in my life?
Not So Trusting Anymore,
Delray Beach, Fla.