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July 8-9 1968. 
Lake Valhalla 

Dear Phil, 
Before departure for Munich, I began a (another) detailed reply to your letter of June Sixth but now, after reading your latest selection of "Letters" to the Editor in the Summer issue, I have determined that that careful service would continue to become self-ridicule instead of remaining self-examination and should be abandoned. 
I presume that with my history with your "editorial instinct", I should not be surprised that you would persist at releasing routine crank mail against my writing and my person, including such "cheap shot" phrases and sentences as "this arty farty mess of 150-word sentences" (Mr. Gordon Anderson's low low grade characterization of the written techniques of"... on an American artist's education" is obviously a naturally permissible signal to Mr. Denis Adrian's "piss poor" published last year about my 1962 construction "I'm still, I suppose alone," commemorating Marilyn Monroe's death.), "What a blowhard.", "...but I do know that some English teacher failed when Flavin was allowed out into the world so ill-equipped for effective journalistic effort." or "This (Anderson's dull, belabored, self-aggrandizing estimation of his very own "used to