Day 32 - In league with the International Jewish Conspiracy

Today Mister Thorn is having a power breakfast with his press officer. They are feasting on pickled Venezuelan Poodle Moths. There have been reports in the infidel media that Istanshire secretly co-operated with archenemy Jewshire and allowed their air force to use Istanshire bases to carry out airstrikes against their mutual neighbor Sinistershire. In the true spirit of dictatorship Mister Thorn insists on drafting the press release himself because he doesn't trust his flunkies.

Thorn: No frickin' way did we let Jewshire use our airbases. We feel betrayed by our International partners who should have kept their big mouths shut as we frickin' agreed. These claims are absolutely wrong and saying otherwise is an act of betrayal by complete bastards who are now trying to drop me in the shit. Those who claim this are trying to damage Istanshire's relationships with its loyal Arab friends who would be frickin' apocalyptic if they discovered I was co-operating with our ancient, sworn enemy, the International Jewish Conspiracy. So we didn't do it. And print that!

I asked Mister Thorn how he was going to explain away the coming hike in domestic interest rates which he promised would never happen.

Thorn:  I have instructed my newspapers to redact the article in which I never made this promise.

Isn't that a little Orwellian? I asked. Whoever controls the past controls the future.

Thorn: Exactly.

Day - 30 Incognito

My psychiatrist and my publisher recommended that I should get out more, to meet the people incognito as the old Roman emperors once did. Me a Roman emperor ? I like the idea of that! I've yet to put to death as many as the average Roman emperor but it's early days. They fed Christians to the lions which seems perfectly acceptable to me. As you can see from the picture, Mrs Thorn and I put on our best and finest religious attire to disguise our appearances. I couldn't see a bloody thing through that veil. The wife said the beard was scratchy as hell and refused to wear it anymore after the picture was taken. 

Publisher: I asked Mister Thorn what it meant to have an overwhelming majority of 50% of the popular vote (or 28% if all the opponents votes under 10% don't get arbitrarily transferred to the leading party.) He said cheerily:

Well, I have license to do anything I want. 

As a student of Socratic dialogue it is always better to lead the unreasonable person into making a rational thought, and also lead him to believe that it is his. OK Mister Thorn, I said daringly, let me ask you this. So if you felt the need to kill all the people who didn't vote for you, maybe send them to death camps, would you feel justified ? He said:

Now there's a thought!

Sorry Socrates. I tried.

Day 27 - Under the Volcano

Morning: The vicars have told me to keep my mouth shut again because they say they are fed up with me winding everyone up. What is the point of being Supreme Being if you can't do any spiteful winding and biblical smiting ? 

Anyway, here is my good old friend Fetullah Ghoulen who has perfected the art of being a real-life James Bond arch villain without anyone actually noticing. He has created a network of hundreds of faith colleges and schools in the United Shires, spreading our propaganda and new religion amongst the infidels and without using a penny of his $25 billion fortune. Unlike Ernst Blofeld he doesn't need to build missiles to threaten the world. He does it by brainwashing his pupils. And, and here is the hilarious part, our mutual enemy the President of the United Shires, Brad Orbarma, actually pays for it all! Brad Orbarma is truly our bitch.

Evening: Sod the vicars! I am ready for some smiting. Those bloody Brownies and Cub Scouts have invaded the park again and have also opened a street fete near the village square. I have sent my water cannon and riot police to the scene.

Just one foul move and we'll have you, you little trouble makers!