how perfectly swell: matthew prins (or matt prins, or thew, or...oh, you don't care) alone with his stupidity
Letters from Dale.
Rather than do something useful with what little spare time I have, such as read the Bible from G to R for the first time in ten years, or come up with a solution to Zimbabwe's many problems, or finish my partially-written full-length play, I am instead going to write letters. These letters will be written to corporations or organizations or associations, and they might read something like this:
"To whom it may concern at Capital One:
"I am very confused. I have recently seen your commercial where Santa’s sleigh is hijacked by burglars who need the vehicle as they did not have the foresight to use your Miles One card. But when Santa says “What’s in your wallet?” to the camera, he is smiling and otherwise seems very happy, even though he is aware that his sled -- which, as far as I am aware, is his only means of giving presents to hundreds of millions of children around the world -- has been pilfered. I am very disappointed you did not use this opportunity to give this commercial a heartrending denouement with Santa in the fetal position on the snow, crying with the knowledge that this will be the least happy Christmas ever for children upon children. I refuse to get a Capital One card until you replace this single-minded naiveté with a set of commercials that accurately portrays the range of emotions felt by humans: fear, devotion, hatred, carnal lust, thirst.
"Also you should have a talking pig because Babe was a talking pig and Babe was cute.
"Sincerely,
"Dale Prins"
So I will then take the letter and send it, via USPS, to the most appropriate address I can find for that company, and I will await their confused reply. (Of course I will not send this one for reasons apparent to 60 percent of HPS readers, but it explains the premise.) This will be fun.
Here are the rules:
Every Tuesday, I will come up with a list of five possible entities to send letters to. These ideas will be ideas that readers have submitted, ideas I have come up with, and rejected ideas from previous weeks. You will vote for one of the five ideas. The entity/idea with the most votes will be written to/about. If there is a tie, I get to break the tie. (I have no vote otherwise.)
There will be no lying in these letters. I will not say that I need to travel from Richmond to Washington, D.C. on Amtrak wearing a giant gorilla suit and is that okay, unless I am willing to wear the giant gorilla suit on a Richmond-D.C. train.
There will be no attempts to get free products or money in these letters, unless the attempt is very funny.
There will be no attempts to rectify legitimate problems with a company, unless the attempt is very funny.
There will be no letters to people I know or knew; you cannot say, "Oh, okay, Dale, write a letter to your tenth-grade crush telling her that she was your tenth-grade crush," because no.
Unless necessary, I will not be giving out my phone number, because yeah like I want to explain these letters over the phone. (Obviously, I have to give out my address.)
I will be using my middle name, "Dale," as my first name because "Dale Prins" does not in a Google search lead to this website nor does he have a number in the Richmond phone book.
So that is that. Here are the choices for this Thursday:
Southwest Airlines; a poem for their flight attendants to read that mentions how unlikely it is that this plane will crash.
American Mathematical Society; asking that if since my parents live 1150 miles away, and they drive about 65MPH and I drive about 75MPH, at what mile should we meet at if we each want to drive about the same amount of time
Volkswagen; asking if they will give me a brand-new Passat, just because
Arizona Cardinals; cover letter applying for the new head coaching vacancy
Marquis Who's Who; asking why I am not in Who's Who of American Art, despite the popularity of "Parker and Bradley"
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.