On Halloween

Dear readers,

This Halloween, like most Halloweens, I'll be hiding from the ghosts of my former conquests in the broom closet. And speaking of former conquests, enjoy this clip of Vincent Price performing on The Muppet Show.

On playing politics

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rudy Giuliani, 9/11 promoter
Re: bin Laden invitation

Dear Rudy,

First of all, 9/11. Now that that's out of the way, let's get to the issue at hand. The Democrats seem to be up in arms about your recent claim that Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama would invite Osama bin Laden to the White House if they were elected president. I know you were just making a crack at their limp-wristed calls for diplomacy, so you don't have to explain yourself. I understand your "shoot first, ask questions never" position. Diplomacy calls for an effort to understand a madman's position. Maybe even to learn a greeting or two in his native language. I know as president you'd be too busy preventing another 9/11 to pop in a Rosetta Stone CD on Arabic. However, I don't agree with you on this. Personally, I'd never pass up a chance to meet face-to-beard with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Have you ever caught a whiff of that guy's musk? I broke into the Columbia University auditorium just to sniff his podium. Smelled kind of like dates and human rights violations.

But even outside the realm of overly ambitious diplomacy, I feel you shouldn't be too quick to judge a candidate's open invitation to Mr. bin Laden. After all, the guy's loaded. Politics being what they are, the next president's barely going to have enough time to whack it (or squish it, if the case may be) in the Lincoln Bedroom before they have to ramp up the fundraising machine for the next election. bin Laden may be cold, hard evil, but he's also got some cold, hard cash. And that's Saudi cash, too. The good stuff. I think they're on the oil standard.

Draining the pockets of bin Laden just makes good fiscal sense. One advantage of today's political climate is that there's no indiscretion too egregious not to fall away at the first sound of a half-assed apology. I mean, the Department of Justice's voting rights chief just gave a speech where he claimed there were no elderly minorities because they all die off quicker than whites. All he had to do was issue a little mea culpa through his spokesperson, and all's well. If CNN's cameras happen to capture a blurry shot of bin Laden being ushered into his limo outside the White House's front door, what's the worst that could happen? Obama or Clinton would just have to stand in the press room, lake a couple of softball questions from David Gregory, and give a little shrug. If they're talented enough, they might even try an Urkel-esque "Did I do that?" catchphrase. In a wink, they'd not only be lovable goofs, they'd have a healthy campaign war chest, and bin Laden would have a few less dollars to plan another 9/11.

You know, I just thought of something Rudy. If there's one thing the American people love more than a catchphrase, it's an action-packed sequel. Maybe you should consider extending an olive branch to bin Laden as well. After all, you could always be the hero of 9/11 one more time.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On quality control

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Marka Hansen, president of Gap Inc.
Re: Child labor

Dear Ms. Hansen,

Well, this is simply disgusting. How can you sleep at night knowing that under your watch the Gap used unpaid child slave labor to produce its garments? I couldn't believe what I had my secretary read to me. Children sold into factory slavery by their parents? Sweatshops overrun with excrement from overflowing toilets? Beatings with rubber pipes; oily rags stuffed in mouths, as simple punishment for a shed tear?

This is the stuff of Thunderdomian nightmares. And I was even more appalled by this news than anyone else. Just last week I purchased a pair of skinny fit Gap jeans (who says anorexia's a disease?) and the blasted things have already started falling apart. Ms. Hansen, if you're using starving 10-year-olds to stitch these garments, shouldn't the public expect a tighter seam? Shouldn't every fiber of this fabric be covered in the durable salt of an Indian preteen's sweat?

If I wanted my clothes to unravel at a moment's notice, I'd buy pants made by paid adults. Lord knows you're not passing down the savings ($40 for a pair of boxers?), but I understand that. As a libertarian, I have faith in a free market system. I'll fight for your right to make a profit, but I won't let you exploit these children if I'm not seeing any results.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, consumer advocate

On the bright side

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dana Perino, White House Press Secretary
Re: Climate change benefits

Dear Dana,

You look nice. I mean, you're looking really good. You always look good, though. I'm not trying to say you sometimes don't. I'm just saying you look particularly nice today. You know what? Let's try this again.

Hi. Laurence Shandy here. You may remember me from your peripheral vision. Look, I know the bloggers and pundits are up in arms over your suggestion that global warming leads to health benefits. But they're blinded by their politics. They don't see the bigger picture like I do. Like you do. Like people like you and I do.

We have a lot in common, is what I'm trying to say. Probably. Maybe we can talk about it some time?

Here's the thing. What with all the bans on public smoking, it's not like a few greenhouse gases are going to collapse anyone's lungs. If anything, they're just making up the difference. And it's not the severe drought that causes the kind of preternaturally arid conditions that lead to massive wildfires. It's the irresponsible campers who take advantage of those conditions.

But you know my favorite part about having a warmer climate? I don't have to worry about climbing naked into a bed full of cold sheets every night. Cold sheets are the worst. What with all the nipple hardening and everything. You know what I'm talking about.

Of course, there are some bad things about global warming as well. In such a temperate climate, you no longer need the warmth of my body to comfort you through the night. But just because you don't need it, it doesn't mean you don't want it, huh? Am I right?

Why won't you return my calls?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On the back room

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rep. Nancy Pelosi, (D) California
Re: SCHIP vote

Dear Nancy,

Unlike sick children across the United States, this whole SCHIP debacle just won't die. Now the Republicans in Congress are crying foul over the fact that you've set the vote to override President Bush's veto for this Thursday--the very day you know full well that several Republicans will be accompanying Bush to your home state as he attempts to single-handedly extinguish the flames which threaten to incinerate your district. Aside from the smell of sneaky politics, this move opens you up to criticism from those who would say you should be in California yourself--not pushing through politically advantageous legislation.

I can't pretend to understand your moral quandary. I myself have never seen a sick child, so I have a hard time placing a face to an idea. My own illegitimate children must pass a rigorous health exam before they're even allowed into my building. But I can appreciate the tactical advantage this legislation gives your struggling party. Let's face it--the war's still going strong and I can still be subjected to the CIA's S&M tactics without cause or warrant. The Democratic party needs a victory here, and the SCHIP bill is just the kind of thing you can force a 12-year-old to pimp. And taxing smokers to pay for it? Brilliant move. America hates smokers almost as much as they love preteens. It's a win-win.

Sadly, though, you're no match for the veto pen of a lame duck president with an approval rating barely in the double digits. How else are you going to stand up to such mighty power than by sneaking in a back room vote? The Republicans have left you no choice. Best to just get this thing out of the way when they're not looking. And maybe while they're busy invading Iran, you guys can pass some kind of torture ban.

Just kidding. How could you possibly get enough votes for that?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On Romney

Mitt Romney's not enjoying the best of times these days. His square, masculine jaw; his spit-shined hair; the beautiful chiaroscuro of his gleaming teeth against his preternatural tan--none of these presidential qualities seem to overcome the political momentum of a lisping, pro-choice bald guy or a droopy D-list actor. He's not the best speaker, either. Just recently, he repeatedly transposed Osama bin Laden's name with Barack Obama's. Plus, he's equated his sons' campaign shilling with brave military service. And now, just as he was beginning to enjoy the support of the Christian conservative voting block, he releases this campaign video:



Not the best way to hide your dirty laundry, Mitt. With all the concern over unchecked expansion of executive powers, people are going to feel a little uneasy with a president who plans to literally ascend to godhood. And speaking of laundry, why not watch this stunning work of investigative reporting by journalist John Safran:



With all this in mind, I've decided to resign my position as Mitt Romney's unofficial campaign adviser. Sure, I can drive the press in circles while my crew scrubs a prostitute's blood out of a campaign bus' ventilation system, but there are just some problems nobody can fix.

On burying the lead

From: Laurence Shandy
To: CNN.com
Re: Celebrities on fire

Dear CNN.com,

I know very little about southern California. As an East Coaster, I don't travel there very often, and when I do, I'm usually in too altered a state to really make sense of the place. I'm more likely to wake up in an anonymous Hollywood motel next to Tyrone Power's corpse (true story) than I am to study the ins and outs of Californian geography. However, I do have a basic understanding of the lay of the land, and I couldn't help but notice your excellent coverage of the currently raging wildfire.

Sure, it's interesting to read about thousands being evacuated from their homes and then the subsequent burning of those homes. I'm more than a little interested in stories of desperate rescue efforts amidst plumes of smoke and clogged roadways. It's even nice to hear a heartwarming tale of evacuees giving up their cots to the elderly and infirm. But we all know the real national concern here, and it doesn't have anything to do with the middle to upper income nobodies filling up our computer and television screens. No, I need to understand how this natural disaster will effect our filmed entertainments and prized celebrities--you know, the things that matter.

Which is why I was disheartened to see that on the priority list of wildfire coverage, you chose to place the headline "Fire affects TV shows, celebrities" all the way at #9--just above a story about Barack Obama's embarrassing link to homophobic gospel singer Donnie McClurkin. Who cares about whether or not San Diego's NFL stadium will be big enough to house all the homeless if I don't have the peace of mind that comes from knowing if Keifer Sutherland will be able to make it to work? If I'm worrying about Teri Hatcher's risk of smoke inhalation, how do you expect me to concern myself with pictures of a burned out cul de sac? Unless, of course, that cul de sac used to house America's sweethearts Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson.

Pull your heads out of your asses and get on the ball, CNN.com. I need to know whether or not Dancing with the Stars will still be on when I change the channel from Larry King.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On bedside manner

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Leo Trasande, assistant director, Center for Children's Health and the Environment, Mount Sinai Medical Center
Re: Body burden

Dear Dr. Trasande,

Thank you so much for stoking another medical panic in this country. Just when our heart rates had stabilized over SARS, bird flu, shark attacks, monkey pox, AIDS, and jungle rot, you come along with your "body burden" testing and get as all hysterical again. Isn't it enough that genius physician and former Playboy playmate Jenny McCarthy discovered autism in childhood vaccines? Don't new parents have enough to worry about with their polio-ridden, unvaccinated children without you coming along and screaming about how most of their babies' blood is industrial chemicals?

So what if you found an 18-month-old with more hi-tech polymers floating around his innards than the Space Shuttle? For my money, there's no replacing the peace of mind a parent should feel if their child is composed mostly of flame retardants. You can say goodbye to spontaneous infant combustion for good. There's no telling how much money the average family will save on urns, dustbins, and ruined cribs. What's a potential thyroid condition when compared to a lifetime of fireproofing? Even if (and this is a big "if") these polybrominated diphenyl ethers act on human babies like they do on lab rats and cause early puberty, what's the harm? A sixth grader with a nice rack and/or a full beard will never want for popularity.

Frankly, these chemicals sound like a wonder drug. Hello, infertility; goodbye, tax burdens. Are you aware that this stuff has even been known to shorten the space between the anus and genitals? 'Taint nothing wrong with that. My chode's like an alien landing strip. I had a one night stand with Erich Von Danikan, and he wouldn't remove his head from my thighs.

Regardless, we don't even know what effect these chemicals even have on people. Instead of freaking out innocent parents, why not raise your own children in a chemical-free environment? Think of it as a control group. Wrap your baby up in a wool blanket freshly ripped from the muscle tissue of a syphilitic sheep. Pick out the mites from your baby's bottle of unpasteurized milk, and pray she doesn't come down with monkey pox in the middle of the night. All in the name of science.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On glorification

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Hillary Clinton, (D) New York
Re: Woodstock museum

Dear Sen. Clinton,

Laurence Shandy here. Normally I'm not one to agree with your colleague John McCain. I find his abrupt transformation from an Episcopalian to a Baptist both tasteless and pandering. Plus, I believe he may be an albino, and I've never trusted that thieving race. But I have to commend his condemnation of the Woodstock museum earmark you've tacked onto a health and education spending bill. Not that I'm against pork-barrel spending, mind you. How do you think I was able to get Ted Stevens to build me an Alaskan ice castle?

No, I'm simply against the idea of remembering Woodstock as anything other than a disgusting waste of time. Look, I know you're a former hippie. It's one of the things I like about you. You're a woman who's not afraid to wear a little bush. But it's time your generation came to its senses. I was there, you know. It was terrible. I still have a visceral gag reflex upon seeing the color brown. No one could tell you whether it was acid, mud, or a handful of some Grosse Pointe runaway's shit. Sure, I ate it anyway. And sure, I saw some things you wouldn't believe. But there is no amount of brain damage that could convince me a four hour guitar solo is a good idea.

I won't diminish the contributions of Mr. Hendrix or even Mr. Cocker, but please don't buy into the "seminal moment" marketing machine. That's the kind of revisionist history that sold us Woodstock '94. Aren't you forgetting that we also had to sit through acts like Sweetwater, The Incredible String Band, and Sha-Na-Na--the whole time with meningitis crawling all over our skin? And David Crosby? If I wanted to be taught the finer points of love from a mustachioed fat man, I'd rekindle my romance with Wilford Brimley. At least he could serve me up a bowl of warm oatmeal afterward, and I wouldn't have to fear the strips of cinnamon might actually be acid, mud, or poop.

Instead of spending a million of our taxpayer dollars on some tourist trap, why not just build a snowman out of your husband's fecal matter, wrap a headband around it, and plant a daisy in its head? Or, as Pete Townshend put it while beating Abbie Hoffman, fuck off.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On jungle law

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Michael, sex offender
Re: Paradise

Dear Michael,

Since I don't have your last name, I don't really know where to send this letter. I can only hope you've found it yourself. Maybe you Googled "Michael". I am, after all, fairly high on the Google listings. Search for "remove a dildo from the butt", and I'm number one.

Even though you may never read this, it's probably a good thing you didn't give your real name to CNN's Rich Phillips. After all, you are a registered sex offender, and I'm sure privacy is your top priority. Well, maybe a close second behind molesting children.

As the reluctant spokesman for St. Petersburg, Florida's Palace Mobile Home Park, where 95 of the 200 residents are fellow sex offenders, you did a bang-up job of making your case against a world hell-bent on destroying the lives of our nation's dangerously perverted. St. Petersburg, long a haven for society's outcast and violently deranged, is the perfect home for a community of the future like the Palace trailer park. You've described your home as a "piece of paradise", and for anyone over the age of six, this is most definitely true.

I must admit to shedding a tear over this speech: "As a sex offender -- when you come out, you're told you can't do this; you can't be around children; you can't go to parks; you can't go to the beach; you can't go to the library." Bravo, Michael. You're like the Rosa Parks of sex offenders, only instead of standing up for your tarnished rights, you've hidden in a rusty trailer in the woods. Paradise, indeed.

Look, I don't pretend to understand your affliction. Personally, I can't imagine engaging in any coital act without the erotic friction of two or more tufts of pubic hair rubbing together. But everyone deserves a second chance.

For you won sake, though, you might want to put up some kind of sign. You know, for trick or treaters.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On disappointment

Dear readers,

Unfortunately, there's no Shandy letter today. Honestly, I could barely pull myself out of bed to type this. In the walk across the floor of my incomprehensibly expensive bedroom, my feet have become covered in spent tissues--adhered to my skin by the saline grip of stale tears. And some cum. You see, I was ejected from the Kodak Theatre before J.K. Rowling's recent reading from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. No, dear readers, I'm no Potterite. Are you stupid? Do you think I'd stand for such driveling prose?

Sorry. Anyway, it's J.K. I wanted. Want. Have wanted. Those ruby lips. Those ruby eyes. That ruby hair. "She must be mine," I said when-I-first-saw-her-edly.

You see what she's done to me? My heart is so addled, I'm beginning to write like her.

So what if it wasn't my child with cerebral palsy? Shouldn't it be enough that I was there in the front row with any child with cerebral palsy? You see, it's not just my life those guards ruined when they chucked me--it was also the "life" of that severely handicapped child I borrowed from a ticket scalper outside. And where the hell does a ticket scalper get off bringing kidnapping charges? Glass houses, anyone?

I guess it didn't help that I had a monkey net and a bottle of chloroform in my knapsack.

I haven't felt this way since my Meredith was taken from me. And this was my last chance to meet her. J.K. doesn't return my calls. She doesn't run in my social circles. And there's no way I'm visiting Britain. I refuse to eat boiled food.

Anyway.

I'll be back tomorrow. If I don't do something drastic in the meantime.

Best etc.,
Laurence Shandy, and so on

On sticking to your guns

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Phil Long, Medford School District 549C superintendent
Re: Armed teacher

Dear Dr. Long,

National literary treasure Laurence Shandy here. I'm not going to make fun of your name, so don't worry. No, I'm simply writing to commend your decision not to allow English teacher Shirley Katz to carry a concealed weapon in the classroom. She can whine all she wants about a homicidal ex-husband and, as an afterthought, a Columbine-style attack. You and I both know that bullets are no match for a trashcan full of homemade napalm, and they definitely don't stand a chance against an adrenaline and PCP-fueled former spouse. My ex, Meredith, once attacked me after learning of an embarrassing and salacious incident involving myself, her sister, and a carnival barker. It took a flurry of harpoons and a direct order from NORAD to take her down. Love does funny things to a body.

I guess my point is the same as yours. If a gun's just going to slow down her ex-husband before he delivers his killing blow, then a wall of eager young schoolchildren would serve the same purpose. With a mouth full of baby teeth, there's no reason for them to hold back on their biting power. Plus, you've eliminated any chance of someone reaching into Ms. Katz's blouse, pulling out a 9mm, and playing a deadly game of show and tell.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On fighting back

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gen. Michael V. Hayden, CIA director
Re: Investigating the investigators

Dear Gen. Hayden,

Addressing a CIA director as "General" is going to take some getting used to. That's a term I've usually restricted to military men and Tuesday night lovers. Of course, there have been a few former CIA directors I've counted among those Tuesday night lovers, so I suppose it shouldn't make me that uncomfortable. Lest you think I'm coming on to you, I must say you're not my type. Sure, you're powerful, but I've had more powerful men. And what with all the rendition and torture your organization has enjoyed, I assume you'd be pretty forceful in bed. But when I'm engaging in a little light B&D with a quasi-government official, I like to keep it just that--light. I mean, I like Oreos too, but what kind of masochist would bite into a Domino's Oreo pizza?

The recent revelation that your office is investigating the office of the CIA Inspector General for exercising too much untoward curiosity about your secret torture program is what finally crossed you off my list of potential suitors. Look, you can't go investigating the people who are investigating you--especially if they're investigating your illegal psycho-sexual proclivities. I don't have a problem with you and your underlings abducting random Arabs and bending them to the will of your riding crops. The fact that they haven't done anything wrong just makes the submission that much sweeter. But there's a line, General.

You think that Alabama pastor who was found dead with a dildo in his butt used to go to church in his full bondage gear? Of course not. He threw a suit over it. If you're going to explore your kinks, do it with a bit of discretion. The only reason anyone ever found out about him was because he got a little too randy to properly clean out his breathing tube. It's a shame that the media and the world at large has discovered that the CIA keeps secret dungeons all over the world where they enact their darkest S&M fantasies on unwitting detainees. But the cat's out of the bag, and there's no way even an investigation of your overseers is going to force that pussy back in its sack.

You've proven yourself the worst kind of dominatrix--one that refuses to acknowledge the safe word. And the safe words in this situation are simple: "illegal", "unconstitutional", and "human rights violations". If you keep behaving like this, there's no way I'm going to invite you over for a little Tuesday night fun. After all, how could I trust that when I say "Poughkeepsie", you'd turn off the jackhammer?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On journalistic integrity

From: Laurence Shandy
To: The Montgomery Advertiser
Re: Dead pastor

Dear Advertiser,

Peabody Award-winning journalist Laurence Shandy here. I must say I was appalled to read your paper's shoddy coverage of the Rev. Gary Aldridge accidental death case. Your initial reports of the circumstances were so vague that they led Aldridge's fellow Liberty University alumni to believe he may have been murdered. I wonder why you didn't report all the relevant facts. From reading the Advertiser, I could easily learn that Rev. Aldridge was a former employee of Jerry Falwell's, that he was a devoted family man, that he was beloved by his congregation at Thorington Road Baptist Church. I could even read about how his body was found shrouded in two wet suits, face masks, flippers, and rubber underwear. That he had hogtied himself, bound himself in leather straps. But what I could not learn about in the Advertiser was the fact that Rev. Aldridge was also found with a dildo stuck in his butt.

To me, the dildo in the butt seems the single most pertinent piece of the puzzle. Let's call it "the smoking dildo" of this case. You can't have slobbering sheep running around crying murder when they know the pastor had a dildo in his butt. Everything else reeks of foul play. Perhaps the pastor was murdered and bound by some sadistic scuba diver. But the dildo in his butt--that changes everything. It's the kind of thing Angela Lansbury would find at a taped-off crime scene. The wet pop of the dildo's removal would signal an a-ha moment. It would crack the case.

This is just sloppy reporting on your part. I expect a little more from the local newspaper of Montgomery, Alabama. It will take a long time to remove this dildo of shame from the butt of your integrity.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On envy

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Laura Bush, first lady
Re: Burma op-ed

Dear Mrs. Bush,

First of all, let me congratulate you on your success on being the wife of a world leader. I know I haven't spoken to you directly in many years, but I just thought you should know you've been in my thoughts. When my hands roam and my mind drifts, I think of the times we used to share in the back of that Chevy so long ago. Anyway, all awkwardness aside, I'm happy for you.

And I was pleased to read your recent Wall Street Journal op-ed about the military regime in Burma. Your calls for them to step aside and make way for democracy, I'm sure, won't fall on deaf ears. What are the desperate cries of a tired and huddled mass of monks compared to the crisply typed prose of the U.S. president's wife? Pitter patter, that's all.

But I wondered why you wrote this piece yourself. Shouldn't such headstrong and morally superior rhetoric be coming from your husband? Or at least from his iron-assed mistress, Condoleezza Rice? (Sorry, Laura, I'm sure that's a sore spot.) I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm used to you taking a stand for adult literacy and patting the heads of little Aryan Easter egg hunters on the White House lawn, but I was a little surprised to see your supple toes planted in the door of foreign policy.

I wonder, Laura, if you're not grooming yourself for a presidential run of your own. It makes sense, of course, what with Hillary Clinton's apparent success on the campaign trail. After all, you may be the First Lady, but she was First Lady first. That has to sting a little. But I'm not sure you have the chops for a shot at the highest office. I know you have a vagina, and I'm pretty sure Hillary does as well, but that may be the only thing you have in common. America may not be ready to elect a female president, but it looks like it might be ready to elect Mrs. Clinton. After all, she's demonstrated a very masculine proficiency in pigheadedness and duplicity. I'm not saying Hillary is a man, but I am saying that special interest groups in this country have grown used to paying off politicians not so much in traceable cash, but instead in the more ephemeral pleasures of hot and cold running whores. Not so much your bag, I know, but Hillary seems to have reached some kind of compromise--at least with the health insurance industry.

I think you're too delicate for this game, Laura. That isn't a sexist insult, either. Your tenderness is what attracted me to you in the first place. You were like a soft, squishy oasis in the middle of the desert. To run for president, you'd have to have a heart and a laugh as cold and robotic as your stare. Not to mention the fact that you'll have to maintain a family values front by sticking with that dullard husband of yours. No, Laura, I think it's best if you slip quietly out of the public life next year. Leave the keys to the Lincoln bedroom to someone else, and become your own woman again before it's too late.

Love,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

PICTORIAL BONUS: Click here for an exciting picture of Laura Bush--a favorite from my collection.

On public relations

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Hu Jintao, president of China
Re: The retarded

Dear President Jintao,

Congratulations on your country's red carpet welcome to the 21st century. I have to say, I'm still a bit uneasy with China's growing foothold in the Western capitalist world. Seems like only yesterday I couldn't roam the streets of Beijing wearing my golden Chai pendant without fear of violent retribution from the Red thought police. (I'm not Jewish, by the way. Just a really big Elvis fan.)

But now look at you. Not only have you become the heart of industry--supplying the world's overfed free marketers with their unnecessary and brain-numbing toys, but you're also poisoning their children with lead paint. And all for a profit! Twenty years ago, the Chinese pictograph for "profit" was just a guy shrugging his shoulders.

Not only have you upped your profile by landing the next Olympic games, but you've now rolled onto your back and shown the global stage your softer side by hosting your very first Special Olympics. This is quite a turnaround for the nation that once refused to admit mentally disabled people even existed among its population. Who knows how many brownie points you've earned among the Western bleeding hearts by not only granting corporeal reality to the retarded, but by condescendingly embracing the idea that they're also "special"?

But you know what really impresses me? That you're able to pull off such a hearts-and-minds operation while still maintaining China's dignity and fierce independent spirit. And by "independent spirit", I'm not just talking about your complicity in the mass slaughters of innocent people in Darfur or your tacit approval of governmental oppression in Burma. I'm not even talking about your paranoid censorship policies, human rights violations, or reputation for political imprisonment. No, I'm talking about the fact that just this year a Chinese human trafficking ring selling retarded slaves to brick factories was shut down. I'm talking about the fact that while some smiling Mongoloid poster child is running in slow motion through a white ribbon, mentally disabled children across your country will be locked in cages or being prescribed death by their family doctors.

I hope you take no offense at this, President Jintao, but China's new found ability to say one thing and do another is downright American. And British. But mostly American. And French. Kind of Iranian, too, when you think about it.

Anyway, welcome to the world.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On cracking down

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Colleen Barrett, Southwest Airlines president
Re: Dress Code

Dear Ms. Marrett,

Notable raconteur Laurence Shandy here. I hope I'm not mistaken in assuming you're a woman. I've racked my brain trying to think of a man with the name "Colleen" and come up short, but I've also been unsuccessful in my attempt to find another major company with a female president.

Regardless, I'd like to congratulate you and Southwest for your recent corporate crackdown on innuendous novelty t-shirts. I understand your public face wears a different expression. You can apologize all you want for "rogue" employees "infringing" on passengers' free-speech rights. I might even agree with your condemnation of dress code enforcement when it comes to scantily-clad ladies. That girl you kicked off the plane for wearing a miniskirt and a tanktop? Well, I can't get behind that kind of censorship. Many's the flight where my close proximity to a bra-less coed struggling with her overhead bag has been my only entertainment. A few minutes in the bathroom alone with my mental images can always beat the pants off a warm towel and another in-flight screening of Cheaper by the Dozen 2.

But banning novelty shirts? That I can get behind. You can always tell the people who have no sense of humor by how hard they try for a laugh. I'm all for your "rogue" employee's decision to ban a shirt advertising an imaginary fishing store with the words "master baiter". Such trash is, in fact, offensive--not to my delicate disposition, but to my appreciation for the comedy greats. You won't find the pithy wit of H.L. Mencken or Oscar Wilde on one of those shirts. No, those are the kind of shirts that litter the sale bins at the mall. Those are shirts for date rapists and college drop-outs.

I made no complaint when I was kicked off a flight for wearing my "There's no 'I' in 'Al-Qaeda'" shirt. How could I expect those flight attendants to believe I'd just come from an Islamic irony convention? You can tell a lot about a person from the clothes they wear, and if we (and by "we", I mean "you") begin restricting the rights of the world's "bikini inspectors", "muff divers", and "master baiters", then perhaps we'll finally cut down on Dave Matthews Band ticket sales, Dane Cook films, and fetal alcohol syndrome.

You're doing good work, Ms. Barrett. Keep it up, and you just might have a future in this business.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman