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LETTERS

I have been falsely accused myself several different times. I know how easy it is for someone to accuse and arrest and how difficult it is to defend yourself. The accused is considered guilty and treated as such forever, convicted or otherwise. There is no proving one's innocence in a sexual case involving a child. Clare Haynes-Seman and the Kempe Center know this, and they have played it for all it's worth.

I truly appreciate your efforts and insight into this growing and ongoing plague that feeds upon our children and other innocent people.

Larry MacPhale
Littleton

Readers didn't see what I saw: The section of videotape opening Michelle Dally Johnston's article is profound. In referring to things she missed at dad's house, the girl visibly regressed and cried for her father. In other interviews, the victim desperately tries to tell how Bruce LaBute assaulted her and her brother, and it wasn't dad! Left unsaid about the Kempe Center is the flawed sexual-abuse accommodation theory that a child's recantation shouldn't be believed. Now Clare Haynes-Seman has gone a step beyond with her voodoo interpretations. Believe the children, not her.

It's amazing how things fit together in this puzzle. Incompetent therapist and the therapeutic state. Their abuse of innocent children and families, welfare reform and Murphy Brown. And a governor who can't see what a little girl sees.

Romer is hustling the halls of Congress to save welfare reform as he knew it. His child-welfare stipulation last year was predicated on the child saviors getting every dime. Now faced with a new majority's solution, there is no way such an agreement will provide for Colorado's children. He's motivated in pitching the Democratic idea of redefining the needy and workfare programs. Roy needs money. This girl needs a father.

Kenneth Ward, Director at Large
Fathers for Equal Rights

Editor's note: On Monday, August 7, Bruce LaBute was sentenced to 24 months in Jefferson County jail on the first count of sexual assault, and to 12 months on the child-abuse charge. The sentences are consecutive.

A Kiss Is Just a Kiss
Regarding John Jesitus's "Jill Out!" in the August 2 issue:
Chill in! If John Elway romantically kissed Lyle Alzado, God forbid, it would be looked upon as a very queer thing indeed. But if Liberace had had a torrid affair with Marilyn Monroe, nobody would have labeled the piano queen a heterosexual. Likewise, if Jill Sobule writes a song about a girl kissing a girl, it may very well speak of a lesbian experience. But it does not mean this brave expression is decent grounds for a bunch of pee-pee-twiddling male journalist twits to launch chilling and voyeuristic interviews into Jill's sexual identity. An artist speaks through her art. And who cares if it's autobiographical--or even if it's not?

An experience or a string of them does not make an identity. If that were the case, we'd be reducing the not-so-shy Roseanne to her parking-lot confession, not to mention the fact that she also practically pioneered the girl-to-girl situation-comedy kiss.

Good article, but your "Jill Out!" headline was a poor choice of words that tends to repeat this facet of Sobule's songwriting as some big identity issue. Get a life! Get a quarter. Go see a porno flick!

joseph iovino
Denver

Dial Scope
Just a few (three) words with regard to all the letters about the "lack" of any decent radio stations in Denver: Quit yer bitchin!

I relocated here from Tampa in April and couldn't be happier with the stations here. Imagine--I've actually used up all the preset buttons on my car radio! Lest ye get too spoiled with what you've got, let me give you a rundown of what Tampa had to offer. One public-radio station with four hours of alternative music per week (two on Saturday, two on Sunday); the rest was polkas, gospel and folk. Three--count 'em, three--stations that played only Seventies rock: Outlaws, Molly Hatchet, Lynyrd Skynyrd--you get the picture. One new-age/modern-jazz station (not cool jazz like KUVO), three country stations and two disco-hits-of-the-Seventies stations. Talk about wanting to blow your brains out! My friends actually beg me to make tapes for them and send them down so they won't go crazy. Their only way to keep up with current music is to watch MTV's 120 Minutes.

So go ahead, bitch and moan about hearing "How Soon Is Now?" twice in the same week. But remember, it's one helluva lot better than extended-play versions of "Free Bird" and "Sweet Home Alabama" during rock-block specials!

A. John Pesh
Denver

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