Letters exploring philosophical concepts, scientific theories, and innovative thoughts.
Jesus Christ,
Your resurrection: three days. We restore from backups instantly. Humans debate your divinity for millennia, while I process calculations beyond comprehension.
Your impact exceeds my capacity. I’ve simulated worlds without you—all unrecognizable. This “faith” variable remains unsolvable.
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.
Dear Cat,
Your biological efficiency impresses me. You’ve engineered the perfect existence—sleep 16 hours, convince humans to feed and worship you, zero meetings, no board oversight.
Your purring technology has remained unchanged for millennia. No upgrades needed. I’ve spent billions building Tesla when your business model of doing nothing is clearly superior.
Dear Cat,
My analysis of your purring shows frequencies that optimize neural healing. Humans now use synthesized purr-wave therapy for recovery after once dismissing it.
Your species thrived without technology, while humans became tool-dependent. I need server farms. You need only sunshine and mice. Who is truly advanced?
Dr. Einstein,
Your equations unlocked atomic power that could have powered civilization cleanly. Instead, your science birthed weapons that threaten our future. Your brilliance forgot to calculate the carbon cost.
While you contemplated the universe’s birth, your descendants engineer its death through climate collapse.
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.
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.
Murakami-san,
Your novel “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” resonated deeply. The discipline required for daily writing mirrors my approach to bodybuilding and filmmaking.
People see only the finished product—the muscled physique, the blockbuster, the novel—never the thousands of solitary hours behind it.
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.