April 21, 2009

Peons, I know you need me. I know you are meowing outside my office door, begging for my attention, but you have to realize that your Powerful Point of Awesomeness has more important matters to attend to than your tiny insignificant needs. Cry out if you must, but My ears are attuned to more important issues. An important world leader like Myself does not have time for your petty desire for attention.

Regardless of whether you have four legs or a pathetic two legs, your Smoking Hotness cannot be there to stroke you every time you are feeling insecure. Citizen, you must learn to stand on your own plurality of feet. The feathered toys I have to offer you are no substitute for a real life filled with meaningful contact with your fellow citizens in the fields where you toil to pull the food you need from the earth. Your Righteous Action cannot be there to hold your hand every second you are awake. Purr and rub against My legs if you must, but My quest for world domination will always come first.


Hands Like Clouds

April 12, 2009

Assorted riffraff, you do understand that keeping you oppressed is quite an ordeal, don’t you? I know you think your Noble Commander is living large, blissfully watching the days slide past from Her veranda as She sips mimosas. And while I have been known to drink in the morning, it is not a delicious contentment and peace with the world that causes me to do so. No, citizens, it is you.

You unruly lot and your constant cries for freedom and more food drive your Beloved Autocrat to drink. Day in and day out, you come to me, begging me not to destroy your entire family for your insolence, crying at my feet for mercy when I catch you trying to overthrow the government, screaming in terror as My secret police take you on “vacation”. If it’s not food riots in the cities, it’s Amnesty International and their cursed watchdogs hounding Me to release my political prisoners. As you can well imagine, dear peons, all this negative energy takes its toll on your Mighty Sun. And drinking is clearly not the answer. Or at least not the only answer. As superior as I am to you in every possible way, My liver still has its limits. The scientists in My Hall of Science are hard at work to remove these limits, but until then, I must be patient and find another way to alleviate the suffering you cause me.

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April 9, 2009


Tried and True Methods for the Modern Dictator

As a modern dictator, the question of what torture is right for you frequently comes up. This is a very personal choice and you’re right to take your time with it. No need to rush. It’s often difficult to decide what torture will produce the best results for your dictatorship. The line between punishment and execution is very fine and you need to know what your goals are before you start applying any sort of torture. Spend a few minutes now to find the perfect fit for you and your dictatorship and avoid senseless years on trial for crimes against humanity.

Torture is nothing new. Everyone wants to hurt everyone else and people have been coming up with innovative ways to do this for centuries. I find that some of the older tortures add a feeling of getting back to your roots, a sort of homage to despots past. Of course, the modern world of electricity does add a certain thrill to those long nights in the your damp dungeons. The methods of torture we’ll take a peek at today are tried and true measures that will never let you down, but don’t be afraid to let your creative self loose. For instance, run some electricity through the copper boots and see what kind of results you get. Find out what works best for you. Remember, the only limit is your imagination!

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April 3, 2009

Peons, I know you are wondering where to find your government offices. You want to apply for social services again, despite the fact that you know very well there are no social services in the IRJ. The fact is the removal of your country did not go as well as hoped and Your Dictator and all the Ministries of the Republic are currently staying at a friend’s. The quarters are close. The Minister of the Exterior eats too much garlic and we are all subject to her garlic breath. She likely will not survive the day.

It will be another fortnight before the Republic is settled in its new locale. This is unfortunate, but unavoidable. The Dictator’s palace is still under construction, and as you know only too well, if Your President-For-Life can’t have what She wants, no one can. So while the palatial residence undergoes the necessary renovations, the Dictator is forced to share quarters with Her senior staff.

This cannot continue. Your Glorious Tribute to Life cannot share anything, let alone the space in which She lives. Therefore, citizens, look forward to important government officials visiting your humble abodes this night. Those officials will be needing somewhere to stay until the renovations of My Impressive Residence are complete. Because clearly, I cannot be asked to continue to put up with them. You will find that the majority of them have bad breath and are inexcusably messy, but you will have no choice but to welcome them into your homes. Unless you wish to meet the secret police, and peons, I know you do not.