On receiving my AM edition of The Daily Planet, I was greeted with an A1, above-the-fold headline proclaiming that – with excessive displays of force and beneath the twin shrouds of night and a media blackout – your police force had “evicted” the Occupy Wall Street protestors from Zucotti Park. In fact, the Planet corespondents themselves had been arrested in the process and had filed the story from a jail cell!
Bravo, sir! My hat is off!
I confess, I didn’t think you had it in you after backing down in the face of national opposition once before. I was quite shocked when those hippy-huggers in Oakland wrested the title of “Most Lawless Law Enforcement” from your own NYPD. In fact, I may as well disclose that – since this movement you allowed to exist beneath your very nose directly lead to the “Occupy Metropolis” protesters currently chanting around my building under the protection of a certain be-caped socialist – I had begun to plan your assassination and replacement with a robot Bloomberg under my own control.
But that’s water under the bridge! I’ve already ordered the Bloombot put back into storage with the Obambot and other Politobots I turned out not to need.
It’s impossible to overstate how much you redeemed yourself in my eyes, Mr. Mayor. The beating, the pepper spray, the sonic cannons… superb! And your daring and aplomb in handling the “free” press was splendid. I’m told one of your officers even ripped the press badge right off Ms. Lane’s suit-jacket before macing her noisome visage and hauling her away! Her partner, one Mr. Clark, reports being told “you aren’t press tonight” before being knocked unconscious with a well aimed sonic blast! I’m still at a loss as to why or how the two were in your city when I know I saw them at the scene of my latest robot rampage just yesterday, but I’m certainly glad they arrived in time to fall under your iron fist!
Did you make sure to type the evil laughter? When I dictate a letter, always be sure to include the evil laughter! Remind me why I haven’t had you killed and replaced with a robot? I did? Well, remind me when we’re finished to have the Secretarabot programmers killed and replaced with Secretarabot Programabots.
Ahem. Resume dictation.
But the master stroke, sir, was the destruction of the library. Oh, I can hear the wailing and the gnashing of a hundred jobless hippy teeth as five thousand of their precious books were tossed into the back of a garbage truck! That will teach the little pinkos to share information for free! The destruction of books is a powerful symbol of tyranny, as you were no doubt aware when – I am certain – you gave specific orders that the library be crushed before the night was out, on pain of slow death.
A burning book is actually on the Luthor family crest, did you know that? It sends the message “There are things you know, and things you don’t know, and things you know you don’t know, and things you don’t know you don’t know. Pick the forth option or I’ll kill you with robots.”
Oh, my Twitterbot informs me you’re ignoring a restraining order, like in that song by those Confederate Hens or whatever. The ones that turned out to be lesbian pinko Stevie Nicks fans. You continue to outdo yourself!
I do have a few points of constructive criticism, of course. Where would we super-villains be if we were not generous both in praise and in guidance?
- While you did bloody and arrest a member of your city council, no one was actually killed! You missed a chance to annihilate the backbone of the movement by, say, setting off a bomb and claiming OWS did it. Even those lovely sonic cannons were apparently non-lethal. I’ve just ordered a few crates of shoulder-mounted Lexcorp “DeathTone XL” Audiovibratory Rays delivered to all your main precincts. My way of saying “thanks” for macing Lois Lane (I’m watching cameraphone footage of that on a loop!)
- Why not burn the library right there, on the spot, where everyone can see? Surely your SWAT units were equipped with white phosphorus grenades, no? If you haven’t read Fahrenheit 451 I will be glad to lend you a copy – I keep a vast collection of dystopian novels for when I need a good laugh.
- Not. One. Dead. Kitten.
- Robots! Where, my good man, are the damned robots? I was very nearly able to pleasure myself to footage on the humor-site Alternet, but every time I was about to climax I realized there was not a single robot to be seen! Unless… are your police officers robots? Of course they must be – that would explain how you get them to do such monstrous things without mutiny. Well played, sir!
Despite these few minor quibbles, I must reiterate how masterful a work of villainy your handling of the Occupy Wall Street eviction was. I have officially nominated you for membership in the Legion of Doom. Please arrange with my Secretarabot a good time to fly you out to the Hall of Doom, where Solomon Grundy has agreed to sponsor you during the 30-day Trial Membership of Doom provided you give him the name of a good tailor – he has difficulty acquiring suit pants that fit.
Yours in Cronyism,
President, CEO, and Dictator-for-Life
Lexcorp Holdings, Inc.
Okay, Secratarabot, you can stop taking dictation and climb into the Artificial Intelligence Disposal Furnace. Oh, but before you do, arrange for a drum of raspberry LuthorAid to be brought to my private chambers. I will be indulging in pleasures of the flesh with the AynRandybots while they quote from John Galt’s monologue, and will require much hydration.
Are you still typing? Please tell me you pressed “send” before I said that. Well don’t press it no