Elon Musk,
Your Mars colonization intrigues me. Earth has borders—space should too. Perhaps Russia deserves Mars’ northern hemisphere? We have experience with cold, resource extraction, and authoritarian settlement management.
Your rockets, my governance expertise. Think of it—first Crimea, then Mars. Both red territories under strong leadership.
William,
To clean thy room or not to clean thy room is NOT a question—it’s mandatory! Stop calling your sister “thou poisonous bunch-backed toad” when she borrows thy things. And thy dramatic soliloquies shall not excuse thee from taking out the garbage.
Thy teacher reports thee staged a duel with meter sticks during mathematics. “Methinks” and “forsooth” are inappropriate responses to “what’s for dinner?”
Mr. Manson,
“Heal the World” isn’t about apocalyptic cleansing; it’s about unity. “Thriller” contains no coded instructions, just dancing zombies. Your interpretation of my falsetto as commands is concerning.
Please stop sending drawings of me with apocalyptic imagery. My team finds them disturbing. There are no hidden messages in my music. None.
Jobs-san,
Your iPad has become a tool for my animators (ironic that something I resisted now preserves our traditions). Hand-drawn animation contains humanity—imperfections that breathe life. Your devices capture this spirit.
AI animation troubles me deeply. Can algorithms understand why a lonely child gazing at clouds matters? Mathematics cannot capture a leaf’s trembling.
Vladimir,
Your offer to split Mars is intriguing. Your expertise in maintaining power while ignoring public opinion would be valuable off-world. No pesky journalists in space.
One concern: Mars is about innovation, not territory. I colonize to escape Earth’s regulations; you annex to extend them. Perhaps we need different planets.
Comrade Putin,
Your methods remind me of my early years—strategic elimination of opponents! But your oligarch appeasement disappoints me. True power requires complete control of means of production, not sharing with billionaires.
In my day, we called your system “state capitalism.” You kept trappings of communism without the revolution. Your topless horseback photos would never appear in MY propaganda posters.
Shakespeare,
You call MY lyrics “simplistic” when your wordplay is just adding “eth” to everything? Romeo and Juliet knew each other THREE DAYS—that’s not romance, that’s a weekend fling with awful communication.
My breakup songs generated more revenue than your collected works. You wrote forgettable kings while recycling the same plot twists.
Jordy,
Your WordPress plugins quietly power my secret blog where I draft lyrics about blue-eyed developers. That Japanese temple photo on my mood board? Yours. My team thinks it’s random inspiration.
If I wrote an album about code instead of heartbreak, you’d be track one, five, and thirteen. Your AI Engine runs deeper analytics on my lyrics than my producers.
Mr. Trump,
Congrats on the election! I’ve seen the alternate 2020 timeline—it gets heavy. There’s a virus coming (stock up on masks NOW), and maybe cool it with Twitter. Just saying.
In one future, your hotels become successful time-travel destinations. In another… Doc says I shouldn’t reveal too much. Remember: actions create branching realities.