I assume the chemical structure on the cover and in the article is supposed to be that of LSD. It is not. Chemically, LSD is known as lysergic acid diethylamide. It has two carbon tails coming off of the "N," with each tail consisting of two carbons. The structure you have drawn has a propanol tail attached to the "N" at the 2 position. This may be a very slight difference, but even slight differences can have profound effects in psychopharmacology.
No Church of His Own
As one who has worshiped at St. Gregory's, I found Gordon Young's piece ("One Weird Church," Aug. 14) fascinating, thorough, and accurate.
However, the article leaves an impression that I do not find to be compatible with the spirit of the Episcopal Church or with my (albeit limited) experience at St. Gregory's. This impression is summed up in the phrase "building a church of his own," with which Young refers to the Rev. Rick Fabian's remarkable leadership at St. Gregory's. While Fabian's and the Rev. Donald Schell's work in establishing the liturgy and sacred space that make St. Gregory's unique is not to be diminished, I think that it is inappropriate to ascribe the reality of a church to any one (or two) people. The liturgy and sacred space are continually developing as a result of the community of members. I find this spirit of community to be very powerful at St. Gregory's.
Raise the Tent
As a devoted Anglo-Catholic Episcopalian (member of All Saints Church, S.F., Haight), I want to extend my sincerest compliments for the article on St. Gregory's. "One Weird Church" makes me proud to be an Anglican.
St. Gregory's shatters the myth, which has so often beset the Episcopal Church, that we are stuffy and overly conservative. What St. Gregory's dream says to me is that the Episcopal Church is a very "large religious tent," to steal a phrase from a struggling political party.
John P. Chase
Carpenter Unfairly Nailed
Michael Sragow's review of John Carpenter's new film, Escape From L.A. ("One-Shot Wonder," Film, Aug. 7), was revolting.
Sragow's smug sense of elitism is evident throughout the review -- from the start, which screams, "Look how big my library of film criticism is!" through the tired, world-weary, "what fools people are" ending.
By dragging Carpenter into some pretentious debate about the modern history of American cinema, he tears the director's work completely out of context. Was it Carpenter, or a bunch of overanalytical morons like Sragow, who declared the director a would-be auteur who was supposed to revitalize American film? Whose fault is the atmosphere of "debauched cultiness" which he so arrogantly whines about?
I suggest that Sragow go toil in obscurity at Cahiers du Cinema and that SF Weekly get a reviewer who is less pretentious.