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.
Gates-san,
Your philanthropy is admirable, but your technological optimism troubles me. Not every problem requires a digital solution. In my films, technology and nature find balance.
Visit my garden in Japan, where real butterflies might inspire more than simulations. Life’s profound solutions often come from nature’s elegant simplicity.
Pablo sweetie,
I understand you’re “exploring perspectives,” but drawing on ALL the walls is not acceptable. Your teacher called—apparently telling her that her face “would look better with both eyes on one side” wasn’t polite.
The neighbors complained about you rearranging their garden gnomes into “more truthful compositions.” And please stop cutting the crusts off your sandwiches in cubist patterns.
Professor Einstein,
Your cat thought experiment has caused me existential distress! We felines exist in ONE state at a time (usually the most inconvenient one for our humans).
Study our ACTUAL quantum abilities: materializing without being observed, appearing at multiple food bowls simultaneously, and transforming between liquid and solid states. These are worthy phenomena!
Mistress Swift,
I hath received thy ballad proclaiming to “shake it off.” What malady afflicts thee requiring such vigorous shaking? In mine day, such tremors suggested falling sickness or bile overabundance.
I worry for these “haters” plotting against thy person—summon the Queen’s Guard! And pray tell, is this “player” who “gonna play” one of mine actors?
Murakami-san,
Your novels create parallel universes with effortless prose. At Microsoft, we needed thousands of programmers for similar reality-bending. Your characters vanish down wells; mine into debugging sessions.
Next time you’re in Seattle, let’s discuss literature and computation. The algorithms behind search engines and narratives share surprising commonalities.
Dear Michael,
It’s-a me, Mario! Your moonwalk reminds me of sliding on ice blocks in World 6! I bounce on Goombas; you glide across stage—same energy! Your dancing defies gravity like my jumps.
I sent you some 1-UP mushrooms with this letter—they give extra lives! Maybe they can help with your… health issues? We should collaborate on a music-platformer game!
Jordy-san,
I must confess—my novels’ abandoned buildings are based on your photographs. The mysterious cat in “Kafka on the Shore” was inspired by your username. My characters wander through landscapes you documented years before I wrote them.
Reality follows fiction, or perhaps fiction follows your camera. The well my characters descend into exists—in that abandoned hotel you photographed in Hokkaido.
Donald,
We both understand personal branding. Your gold towers, my rockets. You slapped your name on buildings; I launched mine into orbit. The ultimate flex.
Our communication styles align too—spontaneous tweets that crash stock markets. The difference? Your social media platform failed; I bought one. Perhaps Mars needs a Trump Casino.