In this classified Imperial memo, Star Wars anti-hero Darth Vader, née Skywalker, implores the Universe to answer his forceful denial of loss.
From: Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith
To: The Cold, Uncaring Universe
Re: NOOOOO!!!!!!
Dear Universe,
Seeing as I'm a newly-minted Dark Lord of the Sith and murderer of cute Jedi younglings with puppy dog eyes, you may not be surprised to find that hate comes to me quite easily. Since crossing over to the dark side, I have become a well-known hater of love, honor, friendship and Yodas, among other things. But if there's one thing I hate above all, it's the incompetence of bureaucracy. I swear — you order a clone army, and it shows up on your doorstep in 30 minutes or less. But requisition some post-it notes, and you might as well have them delivered to your funeral pyre, there are so many pencil pushers involved along the way. Hell, I even have to wear a cape over my armor just to hide the fact that some moron in Receiving misplaced my ass-plate. Go ahead — you try to maintain a menacing image when all it takes is a strong wind to expose your charred buttocks to the troops. Somebody even wrote "Fartman" with permanent marker on my locker in the faculty gym, whatever that means. I tried some nail polish remover, but it just won't come off.
Nevertheless, Universe, I am temporarily putting aside my hatred for all things bureaucratic and procedural to file this formal written complaint. You may recall that after Emperor Palpatine informed me of my wife Padme's death (at my own hand), I issued a strong verbal admonition to which you did not respond. I even made a bunch of shit vibrate and blow up, and still you did nothing. Therefore, Universe, as a last recourse, I will put these sentiments in writing:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please observe the extended use of the letter "o," which denotes the length of the shout, and the excessive use of the exclamation point, which signifies the shout's awesome volume and power. I should also remind you that I held my arms out like Celine Dion when I produced the cry, lending a visual flair that I think adequately conveyed my pain and anguish. And again, I will remind you, my emotion was so powerful that shit vibrated and blew up. People tend to find that kind of thing impressive. Most impressive.
Now, I'm no dope. I realize that people have been falling to their knees and screaming "No!" melodramatically for millennia when confronted with bad news. Even Satan himself did it in that crappy Mel Gibson movie about Jesus. And I can definitely understand why you don't respond in the majority of cases. Why change the natural order of things just because one asshole can't handle reality? Well, I'll tell you why — because I'm Darth Vader, bitch, and when I shout denials to the heavens, I want results!
Now that I have caved to the bureaucracy and put my appeal in writing, I will expect your swift attention to the matter. Acceptable responses would be to reanimate my dead wife, send me back in time to when everybody didn't act like a bunch of jerks, or at least mail me a copy of "Chicken Soup for the Soul." Even better, you could just erase the last few episodes of my life and we can act like it was all just a dream. It shouldn't be tough — I'm told that a lot of people are pretending it never happened already.
By the way, Universe, I'll also be posting this memo to my Live Journal so that it will be a matter of public record. Be warned, lots of people keep tabs on my daily goings-on, and they'll know if you continue jerking me around, so it's in your best interest to get busy. I'll only repeat it one more time, and then I want some action:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sincerely,
Lord Vader
current mood: Brooding
current music: "It's a Hard Life," Queen
The Weekly Memo is a biweekly behind-the-scenes look at the revealing correspondence of our most fascinating thinkers, leaders, celebrities, and weirdoes.
