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A Letter From Jenni Wu
Living in Japan
Preface
This article was not written by Jenni Wu, but, rather, by another young lady writer named Jenni Wu. The previous Jenni Wu, with whom you are undoubtedly more familiar (unless, of course, you frequently ride the JR Sobu line between the hours of 9 am and 9 pm), was naught but a figment–or, rather, a construct–created by the never-quiet mind of Jenni Wu, the current author of this piece and preface. Leaving postmodern questions of authorship aside, we assure you that the author of this assignment is not Jenni Wu, but the authentic Jenni Wu, who has recently suffered an awakening of her moral responsibility after having accepted the indisputable physical but intangible reality of the sense of terrible purpose felt since birth but never acknowledged until the former Jenni Wu’s ascendance to the metaphysical plane of abstract existence. As follows, Jenni Wu, aka, myself, insists that Fran Magazine cease all dealings with its correspondent Jenni Wu, as we have already explained that said person was not herself but instead quite another person with the same name and many of the same hobbies (shopping, talking shit, eating candy) and idiosyncratic personality tics. Jenni Wu suggests that Fran Magazine would be wise in wiping Jenni Wu from their databases, and that the aforementioned magazine should acknowledge her as the sole author of all articles from now (the immediate future and continuous modern present), until the termination of all business relations in the distant but inevitable future.
Dear?@Andrew–
Living in Japan is totally rad, except for the fact that Jim lost his Armani glasses at some karaoke bar in Funabashi. I’ve got two new dogs, named Miu Miu and Doc Holiday. This country thrives on mass transit and joyful ambiguity. Okay, gotta jet. Using computers in Japan cost like 4 billion American $$$ per millisecond because this country’s all technologically advanced and shit.
xoxo
Jenni Wu
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Volume 2, Issue 3 contents |
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