Ringo Starr Officially Hates You

You know how you've been writing, editing and rewriting your fan letter to Ringo Starr for the last decade, only to stand at the mailbox time and again, reeling at the note's inadequate expression of how deeply his work and spirit have sustained you all these years, thus pushing you back to your desk for another few months of wistful, Proustian polishing? Believe us, we relate. As such, Starr's disclosure Tuesday that he will neither accept nor return fan mail after Oct. 20 has lit an epistolary fire under our ass to finally put this thing to bed. It's exactly what we needed — especially in the stern, slightly schizophrenic terms Starr bellows in his videotaped warning after the jump.

Frankly, we never would have started this had Ringo not previously evinced such determination to satisfy his devotees; we're reminded again this morning of his guest spot long ago on The Simpsons, in which the minor Beatle spent the better part of 20 years waiting to thank Marge for her painted portrait of him. But between his erratic, ongoing tour schedule and the lingering bitterness over those cheeky vandals who decapitated his likeness last April at the Beatles' topiary in Liverpool, poor Ringo's goodwill is simply spread too thin. That doesn't mean he doesn't wish you a lifetime of peace and love, he says here — just keep it to yourself. Oh, all right, Ringo. If you insist.