I want to thank everyone for all of the positive feedback I received concerning my last column. If you happened to miss it (shame on you! No, kidding), I wrote about the Broad Ripple murder of Jane Pepper (which you can read more about on page A2). I was absolutely delighted to read everyone's e-mails and made sure I replied.

Really, not to draw away from the seriousness of the content of the last column (wow, a lot of prepositions in that sentence - so sorry), but I've never really gotten positive mail before. Seriously. Like ever. Most of the mail my column inspire are complaints about me, the things I do in Broad Ripple, how I spend my time, etc. But, hey, any writer'll tell ya, any mail is good mail, positive or negative, because it means people are reading what you've written.

One of my most favorite pieces of negative mail, though, had to do with one of my very first columns for the Gazette when I was still working at Ripple Bagel and Deli. Long story short, I was working a late night only to find my back windshield bashed in. In the article, I wrote that the first thing I thought when coming upon my vehicle was. . . Well. The king of all expletives. The mother of curse words. Oh yes. I thought "the f word." In the article, though, I wrote it out with an asterisk for the vowel. A lot of readers didn't like that and I got some e-mails in the Inbox. I like to always reply to people who take the time to sit down and write something to me but I don't think I adequately defended my position in writing "the f word."

Recently, though, I finished House of Leaves, by Mark Z. Danielewski. If you haven't read it, you should. Beyond that, though, one of the characters writes about the use of "the f word" within a fictional piece of film criticism called the Navidson Record. I think this character does a much better job of defending the use of the F word than I did in my responses to e-mails. Basically, I wanted to share it with all of you. So enjoy.

". . . [The writer of the Navidson Record] always steers clear of such questionable four-letter words. This instance in particular proves that beneath all that cool pseudo-academic hogwash lurked a very passionate man who knew how important it was the say [the f word] now and then, and say it loud too, relish its syllabic sweetness, its immigrant pride, a great American epic word really, starting at the lower lip, often the very front of the lower lip, before racing all the way to the back of the throat, where it finishes with a great blast, the concussive force of the K catching up then with the hush of the F already on its way, thus loading it with plenty of offense and edge and certainly ambiguity... A great by-the-bootstrap prayer or curse if you prefer, depending on how you look at it, or use it, suited perfectly for hurling at the skies or at the world, or sometimes, if said just right, for uttering with enough love and fire, the woman beside you melts inside herself, immersed in all that word-heat. . . "

There you go, world. Nice to know I'm not the only one who thinks sometimes a passionate, forceful word is absolutely necessary.