On behalf of JHH, even though he didn't ask for and didn't want it...
Dear 'Gunslingers' (via 'American Heroes')...
I watched your show entitled 'Tombstone Vendetta'; and I find myself compelled to write to you on behalf of a dear friend of mine. This friend is a Southern Gentleman of some modest fame and good breeding, and we both took gross exception to your portrayal of his person and character within your supposed 'documentary'.
Sirs: a documentary studies the facts of the matter and does not succumb to fantasy and fallacy. You are not the newspaper-men of old who would write anything to sell a page; you are better than that. Or at least so I hoped, and yet it seems I was disappointed.
In the course of your so-called 'documentary' you muddied and misrepresented the facts so many times that I lost count.
Were the Southern Gentleman able to call you out himself, he would, although he is at a slight disposition currently, being as how he is dead. (I would not normally bring up so delicate a subject but I feel compelled to state the facts - as you so clearly have not.)
To start with, when describing the Gentleman's disposition, you claimed he walked into every saloon in the West and wished to die: he was by your version asking all there to oblige in putting him out of his supposed misery. I happen to know for a fact that he walked into saloons looking for some honeyed tea, a shot or so of whiskey, and a game of poker that would pay for a week of good meals, well laundered shirts, nice rooms and good fixings and whiskey on the side. But I suppose such modest desires don't make good print - oh no - best say he walked in to every saloon from Texas to Tombstone to Colorado and back with 'Kill me!' on his lips.
And, sirs, this does not even begin to address the wrong done to this good Gentleman of my close acquaintance.
For a start, you produced a 'likeness' that was not his: he is well known to be a tall, slight fellow with ash-blonde hair and a scholarly look to him.... What godforsaken daguerreotype do you pull up? A stout healthy cove, a dark haired and dark eyed snake-oil idiot who was likely never there. How are we to believe this is he?
This being history, sirs, and the tale being in the hands of the Victors, etc etc, I was willing to forgive a great deal - as was the Gentleman of my acquaintance. But the slander and untruth that abound in this 'documentary' was so appalling to the both of us that I was compelled to speak my mind on his behalf.
In short, sirs, you are abominable.
Your sense of propriety, truth, honour, art, (or at the very least) journalistic inquiry, is beyond appalling.
I cannot begin to tell you how disgusted I am with your representation of my very dear friend. You took advantage of a gentleman who was unable to defend himself on account of being dead. And, you had amongst your number those who purported to know better: so-called 'experts'. Experts of what, exactly? Because it sure as fuck wasn't the truth.
No love and a huge dose of arsenic laced bullets,
Raven,
((kiss-kiss-stabbed-out-you-bloody-sensationalist-idiot-cunts))
I watched your show entitled 'Tombstone Vendetta'; and I find myself compelled to write to you on behalf of a dear friend of mine. This friend is a Southern Gentleman of some modest fame and good breeding, and we both took gross exception to your portrayal of his person and character within your supposed 'documentary'.
Sirs: a documentary studies the facts of the matter and does not succumb to fantasy and fallacy. You are not the newspaper-men of old who would write anything to sell a page; you are better than that. Or at least so I hoped, and yet it seems I was disappointed.
In the course of your so-called 'documentary' you muddied and misrepresented the facts so many times that I lost count.
Were the Southern Gentleman able to call you out himself, he would, although he is at a slight disposition currently, being as how he is dead. (I would not normally bring up so delicate a subject but I feel compelled to state the facts - as you so clearly have not.)
To start with, when describing the Gentleman's disposition, you claimed he walked into every saloon in the West and wished to die: he was by your version asking all there to oblige in putting him out of his supposed misery. I happen to know for a fact that he walked into saloons looking for some honeyed tea, a shot or so of whiskey, and a game of poker that would pay for a week of good meals, well laundered shirts, nice rooms and good fixings and whiskey on the side. But I suppose such modest desires don't make good print - oh no - best say he walked in to every saloon from Texas to Tombstone to Colorado and back with 'Kill me!' on his lips.
And, sirs, this does not even begin to address the wrong done to this good Gentleman of my close acquaintance.
For a start, you produced a 'likeness' that was not his: he is well known to be a tall, slight fellow with ash-blonde hair and a scholarly look to him.... What godforsaken daguerreotype do you pull up? A stout healthy cove, a dark haired and dark eyed snake-oil idiot who was likely never there. How are we to believe this is he?
This being history, sirs, and the tale being in the hands of the Victors, etc etc, I was willing to forgive a great deal - as was the Gentleman of my acquaintance. But the slander and untruth that abound in this 'documentary' was so appalling to the both of us that I was compelled to speak my mind on his behalf.
In short, sirs, you are abominable.
Your sense of propriety, truth, honour, art, (or at the very least) journalistic inquiry, is beyond appalling.
I cannot begin to tell you how disgusted I am with your representation of my very dear friend. You took advantage of a gentleman who was unable to defend himself on account of being dead. And, you had amongst your number those who purported to know better: so-called 'experts'. Experts of what, exactly? Because it sure as fuck wasn't the truth.
No love and a huge dose of arsenic laced bullets,
Raven,
((kiss-kiss-stabbed-out-you-bloody-sensationalist-idiot-cunts))