moonbird
08-16-2011, 03:30 PM
Official Government Document #69309
Property of the New American States
Abuse of this manuscript is punishable by law.
Dear Mr. President,
I must say I've never begun a letter with that greeting before. I wonder if you will really read this letter, which I expect will take me many long hours to write, and cost many stamps to mail in its bulk. Are you reading these words now with your own eyes? Or is this manuscript only to be read by a secretary of yours, scanning yet another letter you do not and never will have time to read for yourself? I really do hope you will read this, peruse it even, as the information printed on these pages is unknown to every other human being on this planet. Someday, in the distant future, it may even save all of their lives. So it is with the greatest urgency that I implore of you, Mr. President: read this letter, and remember. I am going to tell you the story of my life.
But now, where to begin? The story of what very nearly proved to be the End of Mankind has taken over so much of my life that it's turned everything into a huge, gnarled knot of yarn, leaving me to painstakingly unwind its tangled locks and store them away for safekeeping. That's the funny thing about yarn, it seems one always manages to lose the beginning of it, and when you think you've found it it turns out to be the end instead, and then you've got to start all over. I expect you're frightfully busy, being the President and all, so I'll try my best not to waste your time by beginning at the end and confusing the both of us. However you must excuse my occasional ramblings on, as I am, of course, no more than a silly old woman, and it is often the way of silly old women to ramble on and on as the world just spins on by.
Therefore I will begin my story at the only proper place to begin: the beginning.
Property of the New American States
Abuse of this manuscript is punishable by law.
Dear Mr. President,
I must say I've never begun a letter with that greeting before. I wonder if you will really read this letter, which I expect will take me many long hours to write, and cost many stamps to mail in its bulk. Are you reading these words now with your own eyes? Or is this manuscript only to be read by a secretary of yours, scanning yet another letter you do not and never will have time to read for yourself? I really do hope you will read this, peruse it even, as the information printed on these pages is unknown to every other human being on this planet. Someday, in the distant future, it may even save all of their lives. So it is with the greatest urgency that I implore of you, Mr. President: read this letter, and remember. I am going to tell you the story of my life.
But now, where to begin? The story of what very nearly proved to be the End of Mankind has taken over so much of my life that it's turned everything into a huge, gnarled knot of yarn, leaving me to painstakingly unwind its tangled locks and store them away for safekeeping. That's the funny thing about yarn, it seems one always manages to lose the beginning of it, and when you think you've found it it turns out to be the end instead, and then you've got to start all over. I expect you're frightfully busy, being the President and all, so I'll try my best not to waste your time by beginning at the end and confusing the both of us. However you must excuse my occasional ramblings on, as I am, of course, no more than a silly old woman, and it is often the way of silly old women to ramble on and on as the world just spins on by.
Therefore I will begin my story at the only proper place to begin: the beginning.