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Especially when he writes it to himself! 

Do you ever find that when writing letters you suddenly turn into an intellectually dishonest Womens Studies professor with a large condom collection, a militant, man-hating lesbian with a bad case of penis envy, or a self-loathing homosexual with a scientifically-proven short lifespan?  Are you a smug hippie who never bathes, except in patchouli oil?  Have you ever wanted to confess your deepest, darkest sexual secrets to an Assistant Criminology Professor in order to help him prove what a slut you are?  Well this is your lucky day.  Because you could be Dr. Professor Mike Adams’ next imaginary correspondent!

David E. suggested in comments that “Letters to Dr. Mike could be a great feature,” and was kind enough to get the ball rolling with this classic example of the form:

Dear Dr. Mike,

I never thought this would happen to me, but…I was in my women’s studies class hating on the patriarchy and burning the papier-mache penis we’d made earlier in the semester, when all of a sudden in walked this strapping buck of a criminology professor. He had an enormous package…that he was bringing over to our lesbian professor from the post office. She snarled at him, as she usually did to male visitors, to get his manpaws off her property. He told her where she could stick it, and I just fell in love. I broke into his apartment and fell submissively before his feet begging him to show me the meaning of manliness. Together we worshipped Jeebus by tying a crossbeam to his mighty penis and nailing his hands to it. Later, when I lost my virginity (we removed the crossbeam, don’t worry!) to him, I renounced my lesbianism. I guess it’s kind of like Goldfinger, where Pussy Galore was a lesbian until she met the right man? I bet there’s someone out there for all those confused women.

In all fairness, writing a Townhall column the Dr. Mike way is extremely labor-intensive.  While it requires no research, fact-checking, or original thought, every specious point must be painstakingly corroborated by one, and sometimes two independent stereotypes — whether it’s a weepy co-ed who emails Dr. Mike about the lesbians flaunting their vaginas at her, the smarmy, aggressive leftist who picks a fight with Dr. Mike, then promptly folds in the face of the Professor’s Whiffle Ball-like bon mots, or a Muslim “friend” who arrives in the last paragraph to grudgingly admit that he and his kind really are scum.  It’s true that inventing the dramatis personae of a typical Dr. Mike column is fairly easy, since the templates were established long ago, and Dr. Mike needs only to pour a little invective into the Thingmaker-style injector molds, but it’s time-consuming, since he has to wait for his gays and sluts and radical feminists to cool before he can play with them.

So let’s lift the burden of making phony friends and besting apocryphal enemies from Dr. Mike’s frail shoulders.  Write Your Letter To Dr. Mike and post it in the comments. 

Be Dr. Mike’s New Pen-Pal!

24 Responses to “Dear Dr. Mike…”

I’ve got a Thingmaker. Are you sure you don’t mean a Creepy Crawly Oven? Because Thingmaker is basically jello, and is not especially hot to begin with, and cools in a minute or so in its ice bath. I love them both, I have the Creepy Crawly machine, too, and like to make a batch of those for Halloween treat bags (I put them in tinier bags with a note that they are not food), but the Thingmaker toys are really better just spilling out of a glowstick-lit jack-o-lantern. Ah, the bugs, the maggots, the worms…

I admit that Dr Mike may find waiting the minute for his Thingmaker toys to cool to be a stretch of his patience, though. The five-to-seven minutes for the Creepy Crawlies must make him crazy.

Um, did I mention I’m getting no fucking sleep lately? Good.

I actually think it may have been Creeple People.

Aw, D! What have you tried to help? I’m guessing the problem is beyond Tylenol’s “Simply Sleep”…?

Maybe some warm milk and QVC?

I never had a Creeple People set. I did have a Dollymaker, which is the girly version of the Creepy Crawlies oven, but it broke. The CC Oven is apparently sturdier.

Actually, I’m getting no sleep because the cat gets bored or whatever with her food and wants something different so she wakes me up. Since I don’t want her losing any more weight, I can’t just snarl at her and tell her I’ll get up when I feel like it. Also, she likes ice in her water fountain. At least every couple hours.

This is not to say that I ever get much sleep anyway, but it does seem to be getting ridiculous. And mostly what I’m doing about it is getting obnoxious in blog comment threads. It was more of an explanation than a bid for pity.

There is, btw, a cat update on my blog, the essence of which is: What she has is relatively treatable though no promises, she might be okay for years or not, who knows, but she probably won’t drop dead without warning before the end of the month at least, so that’s good. I’d hug her for all of you but I just made her take pills so she’ll kill me if I get near her.

Dear Dr. Mike:

I really need your help. I’ve been a radical feminist hippy liberal for years now, but I’m finding myself secretly drawn to the other side, if you know what I mean, but with dire consequences.

Like just the other day at a hippy fest at the local park where were practicing wiccan and chanting to Dennis Kucinich, I started getting distracted by a lanky criminology professor at the local university that was hanging around the public restrooms.

I couldn’t keep my mind on the tempo of the Native American drum beat cause I kept being drawn to his nervous behavior. Something about the way he lurked over, eyeing preteens entering and exiting there sucked me in. Like going in a tunnel, it hit me; lights out; I was passing to another world! I fell to my back on my yoga mat and seemed to fall asleep.

Suddenly I found myself dreaming. There we were, this professor and me. I was prone on the ground, holding his not so large throbbing manhood. He leaned close to me and whispered, “I will impregnate you with my seed of mediocrity.”

At that instant, without a thought, I broke his man-shaft off at the base and stabbed him with it, straight in the heart. He shriveled and shreaked and then rainbows fluttered about, birds sang and people, I think students came out of everywhere and thanked me.

This dream has happened more than once, I’m troubled by it. Could you help to decipher this?

Your secret follower

Dear Doc,
Do you have a suggestion as to how
I might help a rock icon get into the rock and roll hall of fame? I’ve built a website but I’m not getting the hits I ned to get the halls attention. Any suggestion would be great! Thank you, Jim http://LetHerIn.org

Strangely enough, although I am a Women’s Studies professor with a large (albeit outdated) condom collection (since my husband got a vasectomy) AND a smug hippie who bathes in patchouli oil, I have never felt the slightest desire to confess my deepest, darkest secrets to a criminology professor of any rank whatsoever. Go figure — I must be unique among women.

Does Dr Mike ever write about criminology?

Go and read his column from today!
He had a dream and talked to made up people and there were feminists and abortionists and dog fighters and rednecks. Don’t the there were any gays, but just about everything else.

I’m off my meds so it really didn’t make sense.

Sorry, here\’s the link.

http://tinyurl.com/2th4oa

pessullivan, you’ve learned what I learned the last time I included a link in my comments: if it’s too long, it screws up the margins. ;(

Mike doesn’t write about criminology because he does not want to put his supposed “expertise” outside of the classroom and on the net where he can be called on it by other criminology professors. He is probably the only college professor who writes regularly but rarely write about the subject he instructs in, but yes, that’s because he fears starting an argument related to criminology because he can’t just play off conservative talking points, if he can’t hold his own in his arguments, he won’t be able to do the typical republican duck and dodge.

Oh, my sweet lordy-gordy. I guess I should have expected that sooner or later some half-witted wingnut would try to equate the Michael Vick case with abortion rights.
What’s really astonishing though, is just how STUPID his analogy actually is. He starts out comparing the termination of a pregnancy with the killing of a dog, in which case, he’s saying, “dog=fetus”. But then, when he tries to parody the pro-choice position, it becomes “dog=woman’s body”, and he doesn’t even grasp that he’s done it.

Actually, as much as I loathe Mike Adams and think he is a complete shit head, he is a legitimate academic. My field is lit, so I am not qualified to comment on the quality of his publications, but he has published in his field, most recently in Judicature. Chicago: Nov/Dec 2006. Vol. 90, Iss. 3; p. 129 (6 pages). This, I have to admit, is more recently than I have cranked something out. And he has other pubs.

As to his being an associate professor: he is at a teaching institution, not a heavy duty research institution, and fulls and associates are a whole different game there. I know. I am an associate at a heavy teaching institution, and we have mostly associates ( like 85%). And he is a damn sight younger than me.

With that said, it is painfully clear that
shithead has two lives that have very little connection with each other or with reality. There is the academic who is probably an obnoxious moronic colleague, but still plays the game, and then there is the TownHall columnist who fantasizes about what he would do.

What I find reprehensible in Mike is threefold. First, he clearly plays on the fact that he is conservative to explain why he has not been promoted ( the liberal academic establishment thing, and it goes beyond the promotion thing). Bullshit. He is young and he will get there. That is like me claiming I’m not full because I did contracts and negotiated partner benefits. Nope – I’m just not there yet.
In fairness,though, I doubt he is deadwood anymore than I am.

Second, he uses this as a lead in to explain more generally why – as a white guy – he is a victim. Get fucking real.

Finally, in creating these fantastic scenarios of his classroom – clearly little more than wet dreams for right-wing jerk offs – he really undercuts what we all try to do as teachers – yeah, even schmucko on his better days – which is get students to think independently.

Sorry to go on, but I absolutely loathe this moron.

Well, obviously when you get pregnant the new person merges with that of the pregnant woman, so there’s really no difference between them. In fact, the fetus becomes the dominant personality. It’s like a Walk-In, only more sort of a Crawl-In.

God, I’m sorry for that joke. Really, really sorry.

Dear Dr. Mike, PhD:

Back when I was a student 24 years ago, I, too, allowed the official campus moral relativism to invade my mind, my body, and my soul.

I went into a technical field, one I thought would bring me deep fulfillment and personal satisfaction, but I had ruined my life before my freshman year was up. My life is just like you warned! (Please feel free to use my life story as an example anecdote should anybody accuse you of making this crap up!)

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but while flipping through my official college documents lately I did not find a single instance of any warning whatsoever about the risk factors of “anal sex”. Nor did any professor discuss risk factors in any relevant lecture (or irrelevant one for that matter — I didn’t have access to fine professors like yourself).

And so I lived my life, tolerating liberals and
even beginning to think that condoms were a pretty good idea.

Then 9/11 hit, and then far, far worse, Ward Churchill hit — and accused me of being in the same group as those “little Eichmanns” who died that terrible day. I examined my life and profession, and was forced to conclude that I indeed was littler, relativismistically speaking, than Eichmann. I can not tell you my shame.

So I searched the web and eventually found your blog and the wonderous example of your life therein. Glory be! I patterned myself after you, and joined a nearby church much like your Port City Church.

Now I truly embrace my Eichmannhood in its full, purple glory. Now any feminist or homosexual or fellow hunter gets the (righteous) evil eye should they try to burn their bra, flex a limp wrist, or pat me on the back after a particularly clean shot (not necessarily in respective order). And believe you me, when they see that “I’d deport you straight to Dachau if I could” look on my face, they know what true morality is.

However, I lately have a problem. It seems that sometimes during the ecstasy holy rolling period of the sermon at my church, some of the womenfolk there twirl their skirts such that I can see things that scare me. Do you have any suggestions? Thank you.

– A Fellow Recovering Victim of the Official Campus Religion of Moral Relativism

Normally I stop by,bust a gut at the snark whilst relishing the exquisite writing and, thus knowing all I need to know about the subject of scorn so extensively quoted and eviscerated, I leave…grateful that the W ‘o C team has yet again manufactured diamonds from the crapulent nether regions of bottomless assitude so the rest of us don’t have to. It’s about time you guys got a segment on “Dirty Jobs”, or maybe a series–”The Shittiest Smelliest Catch”.

Anywhoo, inspired by your latest ‘wheeze’ I actually did some dumpster diving on Dr Mike. It turns out he is a much bigger “fucktard” than I realized, and that you’ve all let on. No revelations to report except that..well I’m at a loss.
But…so…to get to the point: here’s my entry which starts off well (“Dear Mr Mike”) but then wanders away a bit from the real imaginary letter template that is Mike’s signature device. SO technically I think it kind of sucks, but I think it follows the spirit. And it wasn’t easy! So here it is, hope it’s good for a laugh:

Dear Professor Dr Mike,

When you strode forcefully into class, threw the carcass of a six-point buck on the desk, sniffed your bloodied fingers and declared “Aaah! It’s that time of the month, ladies! Awoooh!” before dipping your cigar into the dead animal’s gaping head wound and then lit the end with a well-aimed glancing shot from your matte-black Glock 26, I knew I wasn’t in Women’s Studies!

But as the oakey musk of Cameroonian tobacco combined with the salty-sweet smell of cordite, the wafting tendrils of smoky fragrance seemed to sap my initial urge to stand up to the male authority figure before me and demand in my most shrill feminist voice:

“—I’m sorry, but is this actually CRJ 105 Introduction to Criminal Justice or…?”

–but before I could utter a sound your next forceful statement told me all I needed to know:
“My name is Dr. Adams and you are enrolled in CRJ 105, Introduction to Criminal Justice”.

Naturally I was relieved to be properly enrolled:

After all I hadn’t had two abortions so that I could afford to go to college to study Criminal Justice in the hopes of becoming an advocate against anti-GLBT statutes that eventually, with massive Democrat government subsidies, would pay me enough to adopt an illegal Mexican baby along with my future atheist black rug-munching same-sex partner and thus enjoy more rights and privileges than legitimate patriotic white male Americans whilst taking away their guns and burning down their Christian churches–only to find myself accidentally majoring in ‘Guns ‘n Game-ology’!!

So I was clearly in the right class; but I was still very nervous, especially about understanding legal terms like habeas corpus and sub judice and all that ipsem res loquitor and so on. Would my passing or failing hinge on remembering what in delecto flagrante meant, or proving to Professor Mike that I knew how to employ fellatio properly, in class?

But then when you spoke further, I realized my fears were unwarranted and likely the product of mere irrational feministic tendencies.
For instead of delving into the mysterious anatomy of law and the details of criminal acts, you thrust, without any preamble or pretentious foreplay into the concepts of action and punishment and what’s more you made it personal.

When you said “–freshman year, for most of you, will be among the most important years of your life” that “will bring you deep fulfillment and personal satisfaction.” I felt like you were speaking to me personally instead of to every girl in the room, and that “a year” (or more—how long is a freshman year?) “of deep fulfillment and personal satisfaction” were in your hands, just as long as I didn’t ruin my life by accepting condoms from feminist professors.

I know now that a lot of your former students say “I never thought it would happen to me…”–but…I never thought it would happen to me; that in just one class my life and my intended career as a lesbian lawyer could be changed in just one day, in one class that had nothing to do with Criminal Justice at all, but everything to do with why there are criminals, who they are, why they deserve justice and why you will bring me the deep fulfillment and satisfaction I so clearly lack!

Suddenly, as I began to take notes of your entirely original and never before published anywhere Routine Activity Theory of Criminology that requires (1) a motivated offender (2) suitable target or victim (3) lack of a capable guardian, I realized that I myself was a “criminal” in that I was motivated to have an abortion in order to afford college, my baby was the victim, and my too-stoned-to abort-me liberal parents hadn’t been capable guardians!

I also realized that all my anal sex loving gay friends put themselves at risk of contracting AIDS by wearing politically correct condoms—I made sure to write that down exactly as you said it, because at first it didn’t seem to make sense.
If only professors, “any professor” really on any campus talked more about the dangers of anal sex, like you have done in “CJR 105 Introduction to Criminal Justice” well then maybe they’d stop wearing condoms and then obviously the crime rate would go down, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that what you are saying?

Oh but listen to me, lecturing you! You’re the professor! I’m just the student kneeling before you, gazing up at you expectantly. I shouldn’t be putting things in your mouth, it should be the other way round—it’s called “natural law” isn’t it?

I’m sorry Dr Mike, I know you prefer actions to words and complete logical sentences, but please forgive me my feminine prattling but I just had to tell you that after just this one lecture you’ve made me realize that we all have inherently wicked motivations and we’re always on the look-out for a suitable target.
As one of your students living on campus, I don’t have a capable guardian so obviously I’m easily suggestible to performing some illicit act that will probably require mild punishment from an authority figure such as your self.

Mr Mike, in just one day you have changed me, but I want to learn more from your lips, I want to sit on your right hand, and suck everything out of your head. I don’t want moral relativism to invade my body; I want your moral stiffness to invade my body! But the university’s curriculum is too oppressive. If you really care for the student body as much as you say, then meet me less than half a mile from UNCW. I’ll come if you will!

And once you’ve demonstrated what constitutes an illicit act and the appropriate punishment, could you explain again what fellatio means? I think you were too busy talking about anal sex when I asked about it in class (and the other girls sniggered). I know its going to come up in the oral exam, but I don’t want to get a spanking for it.

Thanx!

Betsy-Sue Nubile

Actually, Britisher, that’s a pretty accurate reflection of how Dr. Mikey sees feminists.
Oh, and I don’t know how frequently you read the comments anytime W’oC mocks him, but we all think he’s one of the biggest fucktards you’d ever not want to meet, and never tire of saying so. A couple years ago, s.z. held an “Ultimate Wingnut” competition, and he came in second only to Hindrocket. I’ve actually said in a previous comments thread, that I fucking HATE the guy, something I almost never say about anybody.
But I guess you can’t really get a sense of WHY until you actually read the crap the he spews, because it’s hard to believe anyone could be THAT much of a prick.

Mikey,

Your last column made me so HOT I feel like Michael Jackson on ecstasy at a Chuck E. Cheese All-You-Can-Eat Harry Potter audition! I got me a urgent unguent urge for some serious hog huntin’, my ham-fisted bro-ho! Oil your weapon, doc, cuz I got boo-coo ammo for your mike-alicious man muzzle. Screw religion, it’s time to crank up the volume and get SEXULAR! (hint,hint)

Now I’m gonna make your nipples Hilton hard. Two words: Mousse, Quiana.

Your Happy Hooker,
Doug

Dear Dr. Mike
I write to you now under risk of possible death if it is found out that I, Mary-Lou “Sperm Dumpster” Sunshine, provided you with this information. But I must tell the world this horrible secret, and only you, with your rugged manliness and popular, thought-evoking column, can help me.
Many people think that Planned Parenthood is just another baby-killing factory that gets rich off of poor stupid sluts. But this is a lie. Planned Parenthood doesn’t just perform abortions; it also runs illegal fetus fights. Hippies and hicks come from all over to witness these poor pre-infants fight. I have seen such a fight. This little white fetus, that reminded me of you (perhaps your son, from some stolen sperm?) was fight a bigger Muslim fetus. Though the white fetus was bloody and armless, it still fought tooth and claw! It was really reaming that Hadji! It was awesome! And by awesome I mean horrible. I would have fainted if I wasn’t afraid one of the hippies would have taken advantage of my delicate womenhood. After the fight, all the hippies and hicks had deadly anal sex. They even used condoms to make it more dangerous. This too was an awesome sight.
Please, please, tell your many faithful readers about this! I once was a lost feminist lesbian, having meaningless hook-ups with guys less manly than you, until I attend your class. Now I have seen the light. Please help me renounce my evil ways!
Yours Truthfully,
Mary-Lou “Sperm Dumpster” Sunshine

Bill..
“accurate reflection”–glad you think so, except that of course it’s utterly horrific.
This was the first time I went to his own site, looked at the University’s site and so on. I swear the guy is absolutely insane. He argues like a six-year-old. That Routine Activity Theory he used in one of his posts about the recent college school shootings and how therefor all students should carry guns–and he passed it off as his own original argument. He absolutely thinks he’s fucking brilliant. It’s not his politics that are so disturbing as it is his fantasy life on his blog. I think even Ann Coulter would think he’s a prick.

Dear Dr. Adams,

Although some don’t believe me, I used to be a screaming queer with a horror of guns. I wore a dress when I could get away with it, and indulged in anal sex several times a day. I laughed at hunters, soldiers and cowboys for their fascination with guns. Needless to say, I voted Democratic and gave money to illegal immigrants, abortion clinics, and terrorist groups.

Then something amazing happened. I was at my local WalMart (a place I usually shun because it isn’t pc enough) and by mistake wandered into the sporting goods department. A video demonstration of deer hunting was playing and at the moment I passed by there was a loud bang and on the screen a ten point buck fell over dead. Into view strode Ted Nugent, his barrel still smoking. As he started to splay the still warm carcass with his enormous hunting knife, the scales fell from my eyes: this was real manliness of a sort I never knew existed. Long-haired, somewhat wall-eyed hunkitude. As soon as I got home, I went on the Internet tubes and read everything I could find about The Nuge. I learned that he loved bow hunting even more than guns but I also learned that appearances aside, he was 110% heterosexual, with a wife and kids, and everything. In shock, I realized I had been living a lie, adopting the gay lifestyle as my own when all along I should have been shooting animals and boffing girls like all true red-blooded American males.

I know that some people who read your column laugh at the notion that anyone could turn from gay to straight like you say, so I wanted to write and let you know that it’s true! If it happened to me it could happen to anyone. Keep up the good work!

Ted Haggard

Hey, Hysterical Woman-when you wrote that, didja know that “Mary Sunshine” happens to be the name of a character from the stage musical “Chicago” who’s always played by a man in drag?* Cause even if you didn’t, the coincidence is kinda funny. The character is a clueless, airheaded reporter who sickeningly nice, and her big solo number is titled “There’s a Little Bit of Good In Everyone”. Of course, Mary never met Mike Adams.

*In the movie version, Mary is played by actress Christine Baranski, and that solo number is, unfortunately, cut.

you peoples is the shits.

And I mean that.

I’ve only seen the movie Chicago, but I probably remember the name sub-consciously. Basically, I made it up on the spot.

Is kate insulting us or not? I can’t tell.

Something to say?