I’ve been writing for PLAY since its inception in fall 2003. I never get any fanmail. I am not the sort to ruffle feathers, nor do I really want to upset anyone with my bullshitting about movies. However, I usually don’t have any ideas for new columns, and that is especially true this week. So I am turning to a number of friends who, if they were to actually e-mail me about movies, would write something like these letters.

From Davies, a 14-year old disgruntled socialite from the Hamptons:

“John Cusack wielding a boombox outside Diane Court’s house – that’s terrifying. So are ‘I wrote you every day for x years’ proclamations. Any man who needs to use that as a justification for a woman’s love is clearly a creep. Really, anything involving John Cusack is a lie.”

Davies: You are absolutely right. John Cusack always plays creepy characters, and losers like me perceive our similarities as positive attributes. A shared love for complex record-organizing stratagems is a sign of my emotional fragility, not of indie coolness.

From RJ Johnson, a temperamental bonds trader from Houston, age undetermined:

“Mainstream movies posit heroes and villains in a light that casual moviegoers can identify immediately. It is with this understanding that I ask you to rethink your understanding of Google.

“The name is synonymous with so many things, as so many followers of Google will inform you. If I hear someone make the following observation one more time – ‘Isn’t it funny how ‘google’ is a verb?’ – I will slice them. But at what point does Google go from being w