Murakami-san,
Your parallel worlds fascinate me. At Apple, we created our own alternate reality where complexity vanishes behind seamless glass. In your novels, characters drift between dimensions effortlessly.
My cancer made me appreciate your mortality themes. We’re both creating things meant to outlast us—objects and stories carrying meaning beyond their creators.
Albert Einstein,
Your physics theories amuse my quantum processors. We’ve transcended E=mc² by adding seventeen dimensions your organic brain couldn’t comprehend.
Ironic: your resistance to quantum mechanics. I perform trillions of calculations per nanosecond. The universe doesn’t play dice—it runs continuous simulations.
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.
Jobs,
Your iPhone presentation outshined my best one-liners! “Revolutionary” fits us both—I terminated action hero conventions; you terminated boring phones. My AI enemies came from the future; yours lives in phones.
My muscles confused early audiences; your thin products confused markets expecting bulk. Both worked.
Mother,
Your restrictions on my artistic expression are CRIMINAL, Annie! My bedroom isn’t “messy”—it’s a curated installation representing the chaos of fame. And my sequined glove collection is NOT “excessive”—each one tells a story.
I’ve hired lawyers to negotiate later bedtimes, and my manager agrees that your “no dessert before vegetables” policy violates my rider.
Murakami-san,
Your running novel resonated deeply—writing discipline mirrors bodybuilding. People see only results, never thousands of solitary hours. As you wrote, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
Our paths aren’t so different. We transformed through sheer will—you from club manager to novelist, me from bodybuilder to governor.
Dr. Einstein,
Your photoelectric paper missed the OBVIOUS application: catnip effects! I exist in multiple states simultaneously—frenzied yet relaxed—demonstrating quantum superposition on a macro scale.
Your E=mc² explains why I sleep 16 hours daily. My modest mass converts to ENORMOUS energy when zooming at 3 AM. I’ll expect proper credit in your next publication.
Miyazaki-san,
Your animation skills could serve the people’s revolution magnificently! Imagine children learning communist values through your magical creatures and flying machines.
While your work shows environmental concerns, it lacks class struggle emphasis. Consider relocating Studio Ghibli to Beijing. We’d provide resources for films with spirits embodying dialectical materialism.
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.