Saturday, September 22, 2007

Public Notice of Annoyance

Dear CNN,

Every morning, before the mighty Empire has had its first demi-tasse of Turkish coffee, yea, even before the illustrious Empire has set its glorious foot into the shower, we are inexplicably drawn to the television. We use our remote control to turn on this so-called televisual radio to awaken our minds to knowledge, a worthy way to begin another day as the greatest empire in history.

And every morning, you fail us.

Look, the Empire only has, like, forty minutes, excluding shower time, to putz around in the morning and the last thing we wish to see is the likes of Kyra Phillips pretending to be a hard-hitting reporter asking softball questions along the lines of Katie Couric on the abhorrently insipid CBS Evening News. (The problem with CBS is that the ticket they gave Couric when she went to Iraq was round-trip.)

We won't even comment on your so-called "meteorologist" who never, ever, talks about meteors. The segment last week where he tailed the Yankee Stadium grounds crew was absolutely painful. We did however enjoy that he told us ("full disclosure" as he put it) that when he called later for tickets to a Yankee game, he was unable to get them. We imagine Lou Dobbs doesn't have such troubles, "meteorologist".

In summary: Kyra Phillips: stay on the TelePrompter. What's-her-name with the red hair is just as bad. Tony Harris, we will allow you to live, for now. You are jolly, and you begin at 9 am, so we rarely see you. But news of your jolliness has spread far and wide and has been observed during the Empire's "sick" days off from work.

CNN morning crew: you have been warned.

Cordially,

The Ottoman Empire

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Public Notice of Annoyance

Dear Owen Wilson,

We are saddened to hear of the turning of your mental fortunes. The Empire, she loves you like you were an impressive spire on the topkapi of mighty Constantinople. Did we not relish you in a cowboy hat and loafers playing irrepressible Eli in The Royal Tenenbaums? We did. Did we not weep when you joined fabulous forces with Ben Stiller in that most excellent piece of satire, Zoolander? We did.

The Mighty Empire wishes to impart that you, talented young man, have much to live for.

On a completely unrelated note, the Empire also warns you against hooking back up with Steve Coogan, or anyone else who might have ever thought about dating the Reaper of Prodigiously Talented People, Courtney Love, when you regain your health and your composure.

Cordially,
The Ottoman Empire

Friday, June 15, 2007

Public Notice of Distaste for Lunatic Reporter-type

It is no secret that the Empire is fond of a certain New York-based daily which occasionally likes to side with the Crazy Liberals the Empire would probably have locked in a dungeon and tortured in a manner befitting mutineers, scallywags and other crazy-go-nuts types, were they within the caliphs' jurisdiction. Alas, New York is not part of the Glorious Nation of Righteous and Subordinate Ottomans, and the Empire is fond of reading about Scooter Libby, ex-Mayor Rudolph Giuliani, he of the Exalted Forehead, and successful, award-winning gardens in Westchester County.

Thus, we were delighted to see the most hated Populist flayed in those hallowed pages like so much white, flaky Tilapia: see for yourself, noble readers.

This Dobbs of which the author of the article speaks has long pretended to be against the "elites" while dining among them, shopping at Brooks Brothers among them and riding in long, black cars through DuPont Circle among them.

For shame, false prophet. You are not the Populist of the people!

(Plus, Dobbs' attitude about immigration is woefully jingoistic, presenting guest "experts" who have suggested concepts like immigrants have a habit of molesting small children)

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Notice of Political Annoyance

Let it be known that the glorious and omniscient powers-that-be within the Empire, totally called this thing in the land-formerly-known-as-Palestine.

We were all like, "Shouldn't pray for Arafat's death, dude. Totally, like, bad karma. And the death of one person never really solved any problems. (see: Saddam Hussein, death of)"

Bad karma, we said. Not going to solve anything, we said. Internal strife, we predicted. Because the Empire has been through it all! The Empire has seen and felt political upheaval. We have lost and then regained stability. In other words, we got this bitch.

And now, look. New man Abbas is all in there, and like, disbanding the government because of--what? what? Lemme hear you shout it, bitch--INTERNAL STRIFE. Which the Empire totally effing called, like, when Arafat died, way back in the aught-four.

So there. No solutions, only problems. That's the anthem, get your damn hands up.

Empire out.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Public Notice of Support For Lunatic Policy

Attention United States of the Continent of North America:

The Ottoman Empire wishes to evaluate your newest immigration legislation. The Empire congratulates you for adopting a system crafted on the ambitious Weight Watchers model. The Mighty Empire itself once instituted such a policy of assigning points based on certain measures of desirability for potential potentates of these, our most exalted Ottoman lands.

For example:

1 point for good spelling
7 points for hygienic habits, including one shower per month, effluvia maintenance, low instances of bodily nits and remembering to put the seat up before relieving one's self in the middle of the night
25 for being a scholar of any kind, but
-90 points for knowing anything about religion
5 points for stating that one despises the Germanic tribes, Romans, Byzantines, anyone who ever sacked the mighty Constantinople, Paris Hilton or the Picts. The Empire hates dead civilizations, because they point out something we don't like about ourselves.
12 points for owning a goat or pig
-10 points for owning any dog that fits in a woman's purse
5 points for regular viewing of the VH1, which the Empire regularly TiVos
14 points for knowing how to remove a splinter without really digging in there
6 points for being a woman, because the Empire likes to get down like that
2 points for fresh breath
9 points for archery skills
10 points for a slice of chocolate cake---

---wait, the Empire suspects that last one really is from the Weight Watchers points.

At any rate, the Empire wishes to affirm that yes, a points system worked for us. We were mighty for hundreds of years! Before being split up into European Union and Turkey, who ended up killing all those Armenians... you know, perhaps you don't want to go by us. Use your United States-type ideals to seach for the right kind of immigrant. The Empire thinks the list looks something like this:

1 point for intent to go to the mall
9 points for not knowing who Halliburton or Monsanto or Enron are
1 point for being able to name all the presidents of your Illustrious Nation State
5 points for intent to buy a big Sport Utility Vehicle
5 points for being able to cook 150 hamburgers during a breakless 12-hour shift at the Parkway Diner, OR, ability to mow many lawns and handle noisy equipment without being provided safety devices like headphones and without complaining
12 points for knowledge of how fairs the Yankees, Braves or Red Sox this season
1 point for state capitals
12 points for willingness to be exploited
5 points for drinking Coca-Cola
1 point for correctly knowing how to conjugate, in all its complicated tense, the verb to be
10 points for knowing there are 50 states, bonus: 5 points for knowing that Guam, Puerto Rico, the U.S.V.I., Okinawa Island, Guantanamo Bay and Iraq aren't included in those 50.


The Empire salutes you, United States of the Continent of North America, even though it turns out that all your neighbors hate you.

Respectfully, regretfully and wholly yours,

The Exalted and Most Automated High Upholsterer to the Supreme Motorcyclist and Chief Research Assistant to Her Most Holy Authority, Queen of all Boy Bands
Monitor of This Forum

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Public Notice of Annoyance

Dear Man with Clearly Deviated Septum at California Pizza Kitchen:

The Empire thinks it is gross. Please have it corrected forthwith. For the love of God and what must be ravaging post-nasal drip.

Cordially,

The Ottoman Empire

Information Request

The Empire demands to know why talented, saucy singer Liz Phair has so quickly given up her Indie credibility and is now appearing on the VH1. This turn of events has troubled the high consuls for some time and is only now able to be addressed in this public forum.

Saucy Liz Phair, we implore, nay, command you: provide an explanation of this turn of events or stand trial for egregious errors in judgment.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Public Notice of Grammar Correction

Dear State of Texas,

According to the English language, the words "you" and "all", if they are to suffer the barbarous practice of being contracted (id est, being put into the contraction form, like "you" and "are" can be made into "you're" in this moronic language), should follow along the standard rules of contractions. For example:

you + will=you'll
it+is=it's
I+am=I'm


This, Texans, means that it is never "Y'all" (and absolutely never "ya'll," as that is even further nonsensical), but should follow the above pattern and take "You'll". But that is confusing, is it not? Because You+Will=you'll. The logical conclusion, if you cannot use the proper form of "You All" and you cannot use the contraction for it is confusing, is not to come up with your own esoteric solution which you therefore foist upon the rest of the nation, no! The Empire decrees it a sin against the very language of your hallowed birth land. The only solution is to say something else in its stead, for example: "All of you".

A fair conclusion. Those found in violation will be flogged by order of the Caliph of Adrianople. And you know what they say about Turkish prisons.

Cordially,

The Ottoman Empire


PS--If you do not know what they say about Turkish prisons, more flogging! Shame and woe to those who know not of Wikipedia's vast splendor.

Noteworthy

The Empire finds it is time to repatriate Nelly Furtado to her home planet, for the sake of all humanity.

Public Notice of Grammar Correction

Dear Justin Timberlake,

The Empire feels it is time to inform you of an egregious error against your own native language. The lack of acknowledgement and apology on your part can only mean that you are unaware of the error, and the Empire is sympathetic to your ignorance on the subject.

Please direct your attention to the "Comes Back Around (Interlude)" portion of your long player record entitled, somewhat offensively, FutureSex/LoveSounds. The Empire has noticed the following lyric included in a non-ironic way:
"You cheated girl / my heart bleeded girl"
It cannot be, Mr. Timberlake, that you are wholly unaware that the word bleeded is, in fact, in your language (English, the Empire can only assume, as most words you use, among them the (or, to you, thuh), are English) not a word. We, The Empire, assume you meant to say bled, as it is the past tense conjugation of the infinitive "to bleed," but chose the nonsensical "bleeded" to rhyme with "cheated". We do not agree as you must, that this is an acceptable stepping outside of the accepted usage; we are familiar with "poetic license" but you, sir, are no Suleyman the Magnificent, Percy Shelley or Leonard Cohen. While the Empire recognizes the degradation of your native language is widespread, the Empire does not condone any activity which contributes to it.

Thus, as reparation, we suggest you start simpler, and we look forward to your next song: "Justin Timberlake's ABCs." The Empire is interested to hear whether or not you will execute "L M N O P" correctly on the first try.

Thank you for your understanding, that we may not have to have this conversation in more "inquisition" type circumstances.


Cordially,
The Ottoman Empire

Noteworthy

To the Gym Class Heroes: the heathenous Latin god Cupid, a variant of the equally heathenous Greek god Eros, does not put people in a headlock. He runs unfortunate lovers through with an arrow, shot from his lascivious bow.

To the unstudied youth of America: It's called "Breakfast In America" and the Empire decrees that it was much better when Supertramp did it in the year of our Lord, 1979.