Delusions of Grandeur--My Plans for World Domination

When I’m dictator…

First off, even before I install myself on my solid gold and (uncomfortably) diamond-studded throne, I will set aside New Zealand as the only free country in the world. Why, you ask? Because New Zealand is cool, and because I respect their government and the difficult yet necessary steps they have taken to protect themselves from poor systems that give power to people like me. For that I applaud them, and I grant them their liberty.

The next bit on the docket is the judiciary system. If judges are going to call their breaks recesses, then recesses they will be. What some people might not realize is that children can be incredibly wise and clear-sighted. More often than not, they see character qualities in others that grownups don’t. And while adults understand more of the world, they are also prone to corruption, fatigue, and bias. So I figure, if you combine the best qualities of both age groups, you might have someone worthwhile on the bench. That said, I will have swing sets, merry-go-rounds, teeter-totters, and other playground essentials erected behind every courthouse in the world. When court is not in session, justices will be required to play, act foolish, and enjoy themselves—something they may have forgotten how to do at their age. They will then resume their work with—hopefully—some of their baggage pushed out of the way for the remainder of the proceedings and perhaps beyond.

Coffee. (I bet you were wondering when I’d get to that.) For every hour they devote to their respective jobs, each citizen will be entitled to one cup of coffee, in addition to their various monetary salaries. Those who do not wish to work for their caffeine fix—or those who wish to procure above and beyond their allotment—will be permitted to purchase the surplus from those who wish to sell their portions. Furthermore, people who hate coffee (including my sister) will be sent to work in coffee plantations or other offshoots thereof. This rationing system works for chocolate, sugar, and other necessities as well, though quantities may vary depending on availability.

My dictatorship will open up a spate of jobs. Within the first year of my rule, I expect to increase coffee production by 5,000%. (Not even coffee rust and leaf scorch will stop me.) Other available positions include:  royal foot-massager, royal Lamborghini maintenance person, royal checking-closet-for-boogeyman person, royal coffee-brewer, royal ceiling polisher, royal spider killer, etc… I foresee a thriving economy to mark this new era.

As you may have already noticed, I do not plan to get rid of money. I have several reasons for this. First, we know that communistic systems do not work. Furthermore, I like money. In fact, I want my picture printed on every single bill in circulation. But most importantly, my sister loves pennies because they are shiny. If I were to destroy them, she might poison my coffee.

You will be happy to know I have found the solution for various weather issues, mainly:  snow and drought. Well-compensated workers will cart unwanted snow from colder regions to warmer regions. This will have other benefits beyond water dispersal. After all, what desert-dwelling child with no hope of traveling has ever had the chance to build a snowman or to get beaned by a snow ball or to taste dirty, crystalized water? I think you’ll agree—we owe the world this favor.

While we’re on the topic of snow, I have decided to deploy an Atmospheric Controller System (ACS). However, I realize this title is rather misleading. I apologize. My intent is not to manipulate the weather, only the taste. I’m thinking mint chocolate chip snow and bacon-flavored rain, with hundreds of other options, all programmable by popular demand. (Technology inspired by Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.) In fact, you won’t even remember that precipitation forms around contaminations in the atmosphere because those very pollution particles will taste like hot dogs. (I’m told there isn’t a huge difference.)

Since I am fond of festive occasions, I plan to throw massive tea parties where participants will eat sweets, dance the Cotton-Eyed Joe, and blow soap bubbles. Who knows—this might even earn me the Nobel Peace Prize. Seriously, is it possible to be angry when you’re blowing soap bubbles and wearing beards made of suds?

Christmas will be held twice a year, once when it’s winter in the Northern Hemisphere and again when it’s winter in the Southern. (If you’re wondering what to get me, I’m not picky. I like Italian sports cars, large mansions from the fourteenth century, private islands, small countries, Ping-Pong ball factories, and caviar. Also books with pages made of hammered gold. With each passing year, it seems, my tastes grow ever more sophisticated.)

Finally, writers will be given special privileges including unlimited coffee, chocolate, and tissues, as well as free computer maintenance and editing services.

So remember—next time the (only slightly) rigged Global Dictatorial Elections roll around, vote for me!