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DRUDGE LOVE LETTER TO 'BABE' THE PIG 8/21/95

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Matt Drudge

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Aug 21, 1995, 3:00:00 AM8/21/95
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XXXXXXXX DRUDGE LETTER TO 'BABE' THE PIG XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


Dear Mr. Babe, August 21, 1995

I am writing to you from a bus bench at the corner of Sunset and Vine in
Hollywood, California, where I just watched someone pass-out next to the
CNN building. There has been a lot of passing-out on the streets of Los
Angeles this summer, in fact, there has been a lot of complete checking-out.
I was on my usual morning walk through the Boulevards and dead-end streets
of Hollywood -- feeling sad and blue -- feeling like the 'unsane ones' have
finally gotten to me, you know, the 'Daily Variety headlines don't even
excite anymore' syndrome. The feeling that super-agent Michael Ovitz is
soon going be telling us all how to live. But for some reason, just as I
am about to break-free, just as I am about to buy that Southwest Airline
ticket and head for Lincoln, Nebraska, something pulls me back. This
morning Babe -- it was you.

You, with your stunning billboard over the Sunset Strip. You, who star in
this great movie BABE which tells a story of farm diplomacy where every
animal has his place and purpose in the world. Did you really mean it Babe
when you said you wanted to be a sheepdog? Cause to tell you the truth,
this Hollywood hippie wants to join you. Before they send me to the bacon
factory -- like they did to your whole family -- I want to do something
meaningful with my life. I want to do more than roll down Wilshire
Boulevard going to a $200 a plate sushi meal at the famed Sushi-Ko. I want
to do more than sit through a season of CENTRAL PARK WEST and analyze how
the culture has truly gone to the pigs. Oh dear, I am sorry Babe. I didn't
mean to say that pigs are bad. It's just that -- ahem-- man is more
pig-like than actual pigs are. I remember the premiere of CONGO back in
June. I remember how the event's proceeds were given to charity -- an
environmental group of some kind. I also remember how some stars told their
limousine drivers to leave the engines running so when they came out of the
show the stretch would be warm (it was chilly that night.) Pounds of
exhaust from hours of the stretch's engine being on -- all the while the
fraud-stars felt they were doing right. After all, the money went to a good
cause. Besides, who likes cold limousine seats.

Your movie poses the big questions: What if a horse wants to be a swan or a
pig wants to be a watchdog? Oh gosh, someone just drove down Sunset in a
new 5600 Mercedes-Benz with jungle music blasting out of it. He looked like
James McDougal of Whitewater fame. McDougal, who takes medication for
manic-depression and has lived on disability checks since 1986, is acting as
his own attorney, defending himself from those horrible Grand-jury
indictments that came down last week, and has said interest in Whitewater
has been stirred by Republicans in order to damage the Democratic president.
Not that you care about the twisted media-world I live in Babe, but, I have
to tell you about a few things that I dream about when I sit at the corner
of Sunset and Vine -- under the shadows of the CNN satellite dish -- up-wind
from the JACK IN THE BOX where they serve greasy hamburgers with bacon made
from polite and sweet pigs like you. In modern America they kill innocence
for a burp and a few blood-clots.

A few days ago I was swimming in the Pacific Ocean just off the coast of
Malibu and my mind kept replaying a scene from the new movie CASINO.
Director Martin Scorsese has created such an ultra-violent film, Babe. One
scene has a head blowing-up and the viewer gets to see all of the details.
The film now has a running time of 3 hours and the new owners of UNIVERSAL
don't want it that long. You see how we worry about the stupidest things
out here in Los Angeles. Instead of doing noble things like you -- like
when you saved that entire flock of sheep from a pack of wild dogs -- we
here in Hollywood blow-up heads and count the days to the release of ACE
VENTURA PET DETECTIVE GOES TO AFRICA. Anyway, the rash on my leg from
swimming in the poison-pacific is going down now. The water was so dirty,
the surf sucked and I kept seeing this head floating on top of the water. A
head that a hysterical actor named Joe Pesci puts in a vise and then
proceeds to spin the handle until suddenly the head explodes. Babe,
Scorsese wants to be a wild dog not a human. For this thing called CASINO
he is called genius?


Babe, your spirit is everywhere. I had a picnic the other day at the
Appletree Campground which sits right on top of the great San Andreas fault
line. I was starring the 600-mile trouble maker right in the gut --
wondering when and if the ground would burst. I saw your face in a
wild-desert flower that was growing out of the crack in a fault-line. Your
face reminded me that there is more to life than worrying about death.

Did you see that Citadel drop-out Shannon Faulkner with her 'rain'
press-conference the other day Babe? Did you see how she cried and cried
(as the heavens cried and cried) because she had eaten too much before
hell-training week and because the 'males' were mean and almost drove her to
a break-down? Did you see how OJ prosecuting attorney Christopher Darden
appears to be cracking-up from the lack of justice in the courtroom?

Everywhere I look Babe -- people are losing their grip. Oh well. They
can go ahead and lose it -- I am taking my cue from you. I am patient. I
don't resent those who do wrong to me. I promise not to get too caught-up
in the upcoming political cycle. I will not waste anymore Saturdays sitting
in the Del Taco on Santa Monica Boulevard staring at the hills that I call
home. Babe, I will enjoy my life and help others.

Pigs don't exist only to make pork-chops, in this town they set us straight.
Bravo!

Love always,

Matt Drudge
Hollywood, California
Summer 1995

PS Since I saw your great movie a week or so ago, I smile inside every time
I look up at the CNN building and those super-large satellite dishes on the
roof. I now feel that they can try every trick in the book to upset, shock
and manipulate me with their images. (MISTRIAL! IRAQ! FURMAN! DIVINE!)
They have forgotten that some of us want to be sheepdogs. That some of us
don't kill or become billionaires or pose for the cameras. Some of us like
Autumn best because the squirrels come-out and look for some acorns. Babe
-- I love you.
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