WITH peevish arrogance, Terrence Howard speaks [“Ready for a New Fight,” March 2] of searching, like any good “warrior,” for “the thing that’s going to make me fail.” He obviously expects to

be congratulated for his “courage.” But if he thinks that the point of Tennessee Williams’ “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” -- this beautiful play about the agonies of the closet and the tortures of

internalized homophobia -- is to expose the “hypocrisy and mendacity” of a society that won’t let men put their arms around each other without being “accused” of being gay -- well, then I

guess he is to be congratulated, because he’s already failed. He doesn’t get the play.