Entries Tagged as 'The Emperor decrees'

The Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees an end to positive comments about “selfies”

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. R-34-Z: We are not a vain Emperor. We are simply superior to all others.  This superiority is a Blessing from Above – a Blessing under which (to put it frankly) you, dear reader, do not fall. And while your benevolent Emperor will benevolently allow you to continue to post [to use the vernacular] “selfies,” He must place a ban against reactions to those selfies which might fuel the fire of conceit in the hearts of the mediocre masses. Therefore, We needs must ban a particular reaction to posted selfies. Ye may no longer respond with “Beautiful!” Instead, try to be more critical; perhaps point out a pimple or make a comment about evidence of a double chin that the subject is clearly trying to hide by looking unnaturally upward in the picture. Do not hesitate to say things like: “Why the hell are you doing that weird thing with your mouth?” or “Yeah – the way the light is hitting you definitely makes you look less fat. Good call!” or “FYI, humans, in Nature, never really stand like that” or “You know, you could really injure yourself working so hard to achieve cleavage.” Sometimes it’s best to be dry and straight forward, perhaps with a comment like, “That’s the picture you picked? That’s all you got?” While some may see this as judgmental and bordering on cruel, We see it as necessary. Too much self-esteem among the common rabble can lead to no good.

The Punishment: Those who comment encouragingly on posted selfies will have their portraits painted [naked, pre-tan, fully-frontal and in full sunlight, on the beach] by the Imperial Master of Photorealism. This portrait will then be inextricably electronically linked to the offender’s social media accounts for the rest of his or her miserable Earth-span.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

educationThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that graduation clichés will cease

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 2015: The Emperor’s Imperial Sociologists have determined that societies around the world are stuck in the anthropological and evolutionary mud. The human race is simply not making much progress. Sure, we have all sorts of things figured out, like, whether or not Bruce Jenner is a hero for becoming Caitlyn Jenner. Sure, we have become digital crusaders against “shaming” anyone who has any particular habit or characteristic, regardless of effect or defect, but…we’re just not really moving forward. The cause of this has been determined: clichés on graduation cards, in graduation speeches and at graduation parties.

For decades upon decades, graduates have been told the exact same things: “Follow your dreams/passions;” “Do a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life;” “Get out there and change the world…” These things may be true and their utterers and writers might be fine and successful people, but if we are going to get anywhere, we need to stop anaesthetizing our graduates with pickled aphorisms, howsoever well-intentioned or wise.  (I am the Emperor. I can mix any metaphors I want.) We need to shake things up, as it were.  (I can also use clichés, if I want.) This hackneyed prattling is so much corn in the intellectual digestive system: straight through and down and out into the old toilet pipes.  And it will stop with the class of 2016. The solution is simple: card writers, relatives, and commencement speakers will, henceforth, speak not of what to do, but of what to consider. This should, in ten years’ time, send the world forward in the evolutionary process by a full century.

The Punishment: Violators of this newest commandment will be forced to eat nothing but corn for an entire week.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that all official documents will be printed in Comic Sans

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 332211: Henceforth, all official documents of all governments (that the Emperor, in His infinite magnanimity, allows to continue operating) will be printed and posted using the Comic Sans font. This should, according to the Imperial Psychologist, put an end to bad feelings associated with official communications of every kind, from things as serious as international letters to jury summonses to traffic tickets. This could prevent all kinds of mishaps, ranging protracted wars to police brutality. Likewise, road signs will be re-hung, all emblazoned with Comic Sans. The Imperial Psychologist also assures your Emperor that this will cut down on road-rage incidents by as much as 75%; for, who could ramain unhappy surrounded by that jolly little font of cute little hand-written-looking letters? What monster would protest such cuddly, happy denotations of sound? Those who “hate Comic Sans” will be rounded up and summarily executed – it is a good way to expose and to eliminate the snooty folk in society; and, since graphic designers typically hate Comic Sans, it will eliminate some of the creative minds among us, which is always good for a Dictatorship like Ours. Now, we’re off to have a discussion with the editor of this two-bit piece of electronic rag…

The Punishment: All of those who do not convert to Comic Sans by July 1 will be forced to read a Dan Brown novel — which is bad enough, but this edition will be printed entirely in Copperplate Gothic Bold. This is, surely, one of Our more gruesome punishments, but We have to do what We have to do to make this world a better place.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that the letter “E” shall no longer be spoken as an “A”

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 3421: A, E, I , O, U and sometimes Y. They have their own sounds. They have their own purposes. They are the blood in the veins of every word. It’s them versus twenty-one other letters and they hold their own. Let us not weaken them for the sake of vain affectation. “E” has always been one of our favorite letters. Double it and it can sing butterfly notes, like a mezzo-soprano on her wedding night; or, it can screech madness, like a hawk with flaming feet. Let it sit alone at the end of a word and it exerts force upon the less powerful letters, like a director’s shadow brooding in the wings. It is a strong letter…until some dippy robot comes along and, through yet another in a long line of current puzzling affectations, changes it into an “A”. The woman, for instance, who pronounces her own name of “Emma” as “Amma; “ the announcer, for another instance, who pronounces the call letters to a Philadelphia radio station (WMGK) as AM-GEE-KAY; the person who inadvertently changes the word “ember” to “amber” —  into a different word altogether…  For the love of God we don’t know how it became perceived as stylish to unhinge one’s jaw whilst speaking, but, it shall not continue.

The Punishment: These E-radicators will be taught how to make the proper sound by having their mouths carefully positioned, permanently, by the Imperial Orthodontist (who prefers iron appliances for this sort of obligatory speech therapy).

Have an axcellent day.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning, whether you like it or not. 

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees an end to the use of the suffix “-gate”

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. XLIX: Okay. We admit it. “Deflategate” almost changed our minds about the whole thing, because, let’s face it, that’s funny. But other than that, there will be no more adding “-gate” to the names of scandals, by media writers. First of all, it’s weak and a cheap attempt at cleverness. Second, “Watergate” was the name of an office complex where covered-up break-ins occurred in 1972. “Watergate” was not a scandal about water. It makes about as much sense to use “water” as it does to use “gate.” Why not call the Christie thing “Waterbridge”? — or the football thing “Waterball”? I love my minions dearly, but they need to stop being twits now.

The Punishment: In order to literally drive home the literal nature of the term “Watergate,” offenders will have their head repeatedly slammed in the iron gate at the end of the Emperor’s driveway while the Emperor enjoys a bowl of popcorn on his front porch. (Although most of our punishments are symbolic, it should be noted that the Emperor just happens to enjoy popcorn while taking in the suffering of the naughty.)

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning. Really. 

animalsThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that ye shall bring thy pets in out of the cold

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. K-9: It has come to the Emperor’s attention that some of his more worthless subjects are leaving their pets out in the cold during the most bitter of winter nights. Previously, the Emperor thought this only happened at the homes of crack addicts and of those who were helpless and who were abandoned, themselves. But he has been informed that this happens on a larger scale than he thought; that regular, able-bodied folk are either absent-mindedly or intentionally  leaving their animal pals out in the frigid winds. It will stop, today. Ye will bring your pets in out of the cold.

The Punishment: Those who do not comply will be placed on the Imperial Space Shuttles (we have lots and lots of them and money is no object). These shuttles will be auto-piloted at the sun. At the end of the trip, the offenders will more than receive the warmth they denied their helpless, dependent little fur-friends. Normally, the Emperor doesn’t defend his actions, but he would like to point out a peripheral benefit of this: We will be relieving the world’s population of a large number of people with shriveled souls. Anyone who could be so cruel to such innocent, loving creatures is no more than a pimple on the face of the Earth. The loss of such scum will be felt, surely; it will be felt not unlike the satisfaction after defecation.

Now, go forth and obey.

(The Emperor sends a hat-tip to Sara Wuillermin, who is, henceforth, promoted to the rank of “Imperial Spy, Class A.”)

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that the phrase “you guys” is banned

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. YG100: Hey, you guys! Listen, guys… You guys have to stop opening your guys’s sentences with “you guys” and saying “you guys” every other word. You guys are, like driving the Emperor crazy, you guys. Don’t make the Emperor slap you guys in chains. Okay guys? I mean, like, some of you guys aren’t even guys, so “you guys” just doesn’t make sense, guys.

The Punishment: You guys who use “you guys” will have your guys’s butts thrown into the Imperial Dungeons where you guys will meet some other guys who will make your guys’s lives miserable.

Okay guys? See you guys later.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that the word “too” will no longer be mutilated into a ridiculous affectation

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. .002: The Emperor has become painfully aware that people have been stretching and twisting the word “too” like a verbal taffy and transforming it into the word “teal;” or, more accurately, “teeeeuwl.” Ths abominable distortion is often found in close proximity to the work “omigod,” as in, “Omigod, me teeeeuwl!” This affectation has been creeping up toward “maximum Emperor annoyance” since the late nineties and it shall end, today.

The Punishment: Those who distort this short, sweet, effective word shall, likewise, be distorted on a little device the Imperial Dungeon Keeper likes to call “The Taffy Machine.” Is such a little word worth so much…um…mutilation?

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

The Emperor decreestrusted media & news

The Emperor decrees a ban on “click-bait” headlines that are not 100% true

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree 55C: Henceforth, there shall be no more click-bait headlines, unless the content of the connected article proves the headline to be indisputably true. For instance: “This pit bull tried to eat this kitten; what happens next will blow your mind…” If readers do not actually experience aneurisms as a result of reading, the headline is false and punishment will ensue. Consider, as well, “This article will change your life…” Well, it had better, is all I can say.  And if a headline claims that “This is the best post game speech, ever,” it bloody well had better be. Or else.  Because if it turns into some prancing, weak-bearded, self-centered, mediocre little high school spud spouting every coaching cliché he’s ever heard as he trumpets about “attitude” (albeit  with jauntiness and pluck), there will be Hades to pay. All we are asking is that the authors deliver on their promises. This is all within authorial control; therefore, the Emperor will feel no guilt in doling out punishment.

The Punishment: Violators will be thrown into a special dungeon. The sign on the entrance door reads “Most comfortable dungeon ever where you will never, ever be eviscerated, emasculated or masticated!” What happens next will blow up your mind.

Now. go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees an end to the phrase “at the end of the day”

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 12PM: National Public Radio is a good news source; it is a fine explorer of American culture, but it has created its own little inbred linguistic world full of phrases and speech patterns that the Emperor can stand no more. We just realized that a large portion of our linguistic decrees have come from NPR, over the span of this column, which is usually written after a car ride into the Imperial Palace Offices, with the radio on. The NPR offenses?  The ubiquitous use of “srtiv” for “sort of” (and the use of “sort of,” at all, where the speaker is really trying to say “exactly”); the use of “So…” in response to a question, as if the speaker is trying to imply it is about time the interviewer shut up and allowed him to talk; the use of the phrase “on the ground,” stolen from the military, to mean “in the middle of the issue;” etc… (Check the Imperial archives for any number of examples.) Now, we must speak out against “at the end of the day.” See it work in this annoying, NPR-phrase-laden sentence: “So, at the end of the day, it’s about starting a conversation…” Why does everyone want to start a conversation at the end of the day? What’s wrong with a nice morning chat? And what do you mean, “it’s about”? What’s about what? Do you mean “we need to”? And while everyone is “having conversations,” who is out there actually trying to change things for the better? (George Carlin, the top-secret Emperor of the past [yes, we succeeded him] is rolling over in his grave. )

The Punishment: Any-freaking-hoo, over-users of the phrase “at the end of the day” will be “put to bed”. “Tucked-in,” as it were, by a muscular fellow in a black hood. (And we ain’t talkin’ no memory foam comfy bed, neither; though, the stretching motion of said bed could, conceivably, fix a back problem or two.)

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that ye may not use “genius” as an adjective

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 4528: No, he didn’t quit. You can’t quit being Emperor — the Universe makes you Emperor. We were just….Emperoring. None of your concern. Just continue to obey. For instance: We’ll say this only one more time. “Genius” is a noun, not an adjective. One can not have a “genius idea.” One can have an “ingenious idea.” Someone went to all the trouble to create the distinguishing prefix and that extra “o”. Use them. You sound like a dip when you say “genius idea.” Yes you do. Don’t argue with me. I’m the Emperor.

The Punishment: Those who “adjectivize” the word “genius” will be fed dictionaries for a week. Ketchup will be allowed, as the Emperor is feeling munificent this morning.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning. 

books & writingThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees there will be no more dream sequences in novels

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 10PM: Dream sequences in novels must stop. We get it. We really do. Authors think they are, by giving us a glimpse into the character’s subconscious, increasing the depth of said character. But consider real life, writers. (More authors should, by the way.) Did you ever listen to someone recounting a dream? Did you LIKE it? Consider:

Oh, so I was in the mall but it was really my house and everyone behind the counters was a giant chicken with a PhD in Metaphysics (not sure how I knew that but, you know, in a dream you just know stuff)), but, this one chicken was actually my uncle, Fred, even though he looked like a chicken and he looked at me like he was disappointed when I told him I wanted a cheeseburger with no pickles and the next thing you know I was in a harem (but full of guys instead of women) somewhere in the Middle East, back in the 1800’s, but I was dressed in a baseball uniform except no one noticed and I, for some reason, really wanted to kill this blue camel that was tied to a palm tree next to a cobblestone road, except the cobblestones were actually hot dogs, but when I stabbed him my knife turned into a shoe and for some reason I was really mad — not because it wasn’t working to kill  the camel but because the laces were untied — isn’t that weird? — and….and…

So, no, you really don’t give us “character depth” with dream sequences. At best, you manage to bruise our brains with the mallet of heavy-handed symbolism while we try to scan the pages for where the actual story starts up again.

The Punishment: Those who ignore this decree will only be released from the Imperial Dungeons after writing a complete novel  with a quill; with water for ink and with old-fashioned “overhead projector” transparencies for paper.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

fashion & clothingThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that men must, henceforth, obtain a license in order to go shirtless

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree 55 D: It’s simple, really. The Emperor has appointed a committee of ten women: the “Imperial Council for Shirtlessness.” They will handle any requests for no-shirt licenses. Suppliants will appear before the panel and they will remove their shirts. The women will vote, giving the petitioner a score from 1 through 10. Any man given an average score lower than a 3 will be denied a license to appear in public without a shirt on, for any reason, hot weather notwithstanding. There are no exceptions, plea bargains or special considerations. If ten women don’t want to see you without a shirt on, you shouldn’t be seen without a shirt on. Period. The Emperor does this in consideration for the general aesthetics of the Empire. It should be a shining example of joyous beauty, not a funhouse full of wobbling man-boobs and oozing back fat.

The Punishment: Those who appear in public shirtless without a license will be tattooed, across the chest, with the phrase: “My Mom is Hot.” That oughta do it.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning. If you are lucky.

ends & oddThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that twerking will stop

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 4440: The way the Emperor sees it (i.e. the way you will also see it), those who twerk and those who enjoy the sight of twerking are sub-standard human beings. They are devoid of any hint of subtlety or of any inkling as to the meaning of true sensuality. The Empire can only be improved by their absence. The Emperor’s world is drowning in a flood of sexual literality and in-your-fasceness. Coquettish innuendo has given way to boring, ubiquitous, cookie-cutter shamelessness.

The Punishment: Twerkers and, if you will (let’s face it: even if you won’t), “twerkees,” will be gathered up by the Imperial Dance Police and taken to what we like to call the “Dungeon Twerk-off.” The judges: famished Imperial lions. After all, if people want to be seen as meat, why should we stop them?

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

recipes & foodThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that waiters shall no longer act like guides to the mysteries of the universe

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 31-B: What’s with this new trend in restaurants – of the server coming out and introducing himself or herself and then asking, “Have you ever been here before?” as if we are on the precipice of a great leap into the unknown? It’s not physics. It’s not a philosophy seminar. It’s ordering in a restaurant. Restaurant owners: The server  is not raising the perceived value of your food and drinks by acting as the Virgil to our Dante. He really is not, just so you know. The process is quite simple: I tell you what I want; you bring it out to me. I eat it. I pay. I wobble out the door merrily patting the sides of my distended paunch. That’s it. So, quit it with the pretenses.

The Punishment: Minions of the Empire are commanded to order, as usual, upon hearing this ridiculous question, but they are to order soup. Piping hot soup. They are then to pour the soup over the waiter’s head, while apologizing: “Oh! I am sorry. I have never eaten soup here before. Is this not the right way?”

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

getting olderThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that age is not “just a number”

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 70: Age simply is not “just a number.” Age is, after, say, twenty-one, the irreversible decline of the mind and body, the ultimate result of which is, in the best of all possible situations, an uncomplicated and peaceful death. But age is, most often, a slow ride on a dirty bus, with sticky floors, among a bunch of stinking strangers to soap, at the end of which we find ourselves befuddled, boxed off from the things and people we love through the loss of vision and hearing and terrified (if we are blessed with the mental capacity to be terrified) by the question of whether our beliefs in an afterlife will prove to have been even remotely true. Age is the arduous road to either oblivion or paradise, but it is not just a number. Age is a walking journey, each step pf which leaves us weaker, more filled with existential anxiety, and looking — if I am being honest — less and less attractive at the waypoint of each birthday. Age is a journey from which there is no return. Age is the turning of the padlock on a cage that will be dropped into an ocean. Age is doom, in the most Anglo-Saxon sense of the word.

Oh, please.  I’m doing you a favor. You can’t rage against “a number. “

The Punishment: Users of the phrase are doomed to learn the truth. This is punishment enough.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning(ish).

books & writingThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that tripping and falling can no longer be used to enhance a story’s plot

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree 4815162342: We’ll have no more of it. Figure something else out. Life’s suspense and life’s problems come from myriad places. Tripping and twisting one’s ankle is not the only way find oneself in danger. It is not the only way for the pursuing ax-murderer to gain ground. Mine the depths, writers.  Oh, and while we are at it, no more using “cuts like knife” and “what is this place?” How about “cuts like a father’s disappointment” or a simple but much more effective: “where the hell are we?” We can’t take it anymore. It will cease, or there will be no more writing. You hear us? Don’t ruin it for the rest of the minions.

The Punishment: Anyone guilty of these writing infractions will be placed on a treadmill and forced to run at 7 miles per hour. The Imperial Exercise Minister will sit with a remote control and he will press the DEAD STOP button, again and again, while the offender is running at speed.  When the runner can no longer calculate simple addition  problems, he or she will be released.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning, unless he decides not to, because, after all, he is the Emperor and can do whatever he wants.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that “Ban Bossy” is banned

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 449505: I don’t know who these people are who think they can go around banning things behind the Emperor’s back, but it must stop; therefore, the Emperor decrees that Ban Bossy shall be banned. Don’t get us wrong. This particular “ban” is voluntary. And it is for a good cause…this teaching girls to be leaders through a campaign that attempts to control language. Good idea — controlling language is a great source of power. (Someone ought to write a dystopian novel about that.) I trust these people, thoroughly. They have our young women’s best interests in mind; these ban-ers of words are like big sisters, in fact. This is so much different than “thought control” because it is good. The Emperor well knows that the intention justifies the means. But — it is, in fact, our Empire. No one shall ban thoughts or words but the Emperor.

The Punishment: Those who ban words without the Emperor’s leave shall be detained in the hot desert sun. They shall be instructed to ban the words “water,” “thirsty,” “drink” and and anyother words relating to the wetting of the proverbial whistle. Otherwise, they are completely free to ask for the crystal-cold liquid which will sit before them on a table, freshly stirred, with ice cubes swirling around, beads of cool moisture dripping languidly down its sides… They need only ask — provided they can ask within the language constraints given them.

Now, go forth and obey. 

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning (or so).

televisionThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees and end to the growling announcer

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 444440: What’s with the trend of the growling announcer? — these TV narrators who chew their words and turn the letter S into “Sh”*, as they speak, and then end their sentences with growls? Have ye heard this, O observant minions? (It’s like James Hetfield changed careers, for Pete’s sake.) Look for these angry elocutors on ABC Family Channel and on car commercials and on Discovery channel. Is this just one guy, or another example of meatballs-for-heads nature of the average person? Oh! That is successful! I will imitate it exactly, instead of carving my own niche! And after that, I will write a book about a kid who goes to a wizard school and I will call him Larry Trotter! Oh, the Emperor will find out and then…

The Punishment: These grumbling goofballs will be given growling lessons by a real expert.  In small cage. That is locked.

*A special thank-you to faithful minion “azchurch” for reminding us about the annoying speech-trend of turning the letter S into “sh.” We blame the original 90210. (One is much better advised to spend time with 90125.)

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

language & grammarThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees that no one will use the word “team” outside of a one-mile radius from a field or court

I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 5-5: First off, there is an “I” on every team in every sport. And the “I” stands for people who carry their teams. We could give you a list, but why take up space? Second, the Emperor never could have risen to this status of world dominance and power if he had thought as part of a “team.” (Truly, the only team of which you need to be part is the one that does what it is told to do by the Emperor.) Teams? Let them concentrate on stuffing their balls into nets. The rest will go on trying to forge a path for themselves and learning to think on their own so that we don’t turn  into a world full of bees in a hive. “Team effort.” Blech.

The Punishment: Those who use the word “team” outside of a mile radius form a sports field will be force to sit for a year in what the Imperial Dungeonmaster likes to call “The Penalty Box.” (You don’t want to know.)

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Now, go forth and obey.

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