Dear Norm,

It’s me, Damon.

Congrats on all the press you’ve been getting lately. It seems the world is listening to your ideas.

Now, since this is just the two of us talking (more or less—hardly anyone reads this), I want to level with you: I’ve read what you have to say, and I think you’re fucking nuts. Now I’m not talking about your insecurities from back in the day; I know it was tough for you losing fights on the playground and that you found those black kids scary, yet strangely alluring. I’ll be generous and take you at face value and respect your professed desire to keep your playground scars and racist instincts out of your policies.

But now I see that you “hope and pray” that we bomb Iran? You want to do it “as soon as it is logistically possible“? It seems you still haven’t put those playground defeats behind you. There’s a lot of rage in you, Norm. And now you’re directing it at Iran, and a dubious collection of unallied groups you call “Islamofascists.”

So I thought to myself, Norm needs a productive—or at least harmless—way to get his aggressions out. I thought about buying you karate lessons, but I worry that in your advanced age, you’d risk injury. And I don’t think a real gun would be a good idea. It almost never is. But a virtual one? Pretty harmless.

So my offer is this, Norm: I will buy you a copy of Halo 3 if you promise to take your aggressions out through that, rather than through advocating the bombing of Iran. If you don’t already have an Xbox 360, this won’t do much for you. But if that’s the case, I imagine we could get some people to chip in. I know I said I don’t have a lot of readers, but I believe the ones I have are generous.

Readers, if you’d be willing to chip in for an Xbox for Norm so he can play Halo 3 instead of advocating bombing Iran, just say so in the comments below. You know, I bet we’d even be able to raise enough for extra controllers so Bill Kristol, Jonah Goldberg, and others can play.

This is a standing offer, Norm. At least until the first bomb drops. Btw (that means “by the way”)—and I know this may not be a concern, as you and your cronies aren’t given to actual combat—I don’t recommend riding it down. It may look fun in the movies, but you won’t live.

Damon

PS—Don’t worry: we can keep this real quiet. My readers know how to be discreet.
PPS—I see you’ve taken to referring to the “War on Terror” as “World War IV” (with the Cold War being WWIII). Now, if the Cold War, with its multi-decade span and relative lack of actual combat, can be elevated to the status of a World War, do you think we can get Wrestlemania—and its twenty-three years of edge-of-your seat battles—in the history books? Maybe as, say, a “major regional conflict”?

This is you showing Bill and Jonah (and Ahmadinejad!) how it’s done!

Dear Chris,

I don’t know if you’ve been reading my blog lately. I can only hope.

I can tell you that I’ve been thinking of you. You’ve had such a great career–Get a Life, Saturday Night Live, all those appearances on Letterman, your novel, and, of course, Cabin Boy.

That last item is what I want to talk to you about. Now, I know Nathaniel Mayweather wasn’t your most successful character, but I’ll be damned if I don’t laugh when I think about him. His haughtiness, his crucible on the high seas, his hallucinations…

Thus, in the hope of bringing the franchise (and sexy) back, I present the following:

Cabin Boy 2: Poppycock!

2008: Fancy Lad Nathaniel Mayweather’s father has commissioned for his son’s birthday a Fancy Lad Time & Area (T&A) machine. This machine can transport its occupant to the time and area of his choosing. Having recently fancied himself a sporting fancy lad–specifically, the sport of fencing–Nathaniel enters the machine with the intention of traveling to China, 2010, so he can compete in the 2010 Olympics (here I take a little poetic license to give us time for production!). He does so wearing his fancy fencing gear and a generous codpiece.

But just as with his last journey, things go terribly awry. Nathaniel’s machine lands him in China, but rather than taking him forward two years, it takes him back 140. He lands in the middle of a poppy field being cultivated by seven stunningly beautiful sisters. They live on the land with their stern father, who is making so much money off of the crop that he doesn’t want to lose production by seeing any of them married. When they see Nathaniel in his T&A machine, the sisters lose control of their sexually frustrated, overworked selves. Their father is the only man they’ve seen in years, so Nathaniel arrives as a generously endowed knight in white armor!

Delighted at their turn of fortune, the sisters make like their father and hold Nathaniel hostage, hiding him in their cabin (their father has his own). Nathaniel’s duties include serving them meals when they return from the field and satisfying them sexually. He is made to wear revealing outfits and preen about the quarters. (I believe you can still preen with the best of them, Chris. Remember Sparkles?) :

The Sparkles bit ends at 2:00 to go or so; no need to watch beyond that

However, while he enjoys the attention from the sisters, Nathaniel chafes at the serving and cleaning responsibilities he has been given. He is a fancy lad, not a cabin boy; what’s more, he still hasn’t had his shot at Olympic fencing, the reason he entered the T&A machine to begin with. Thus, after another night of passionlessly satisfying the desires of one or more of the beautiful sisters, sequentially or simultaneously, he slips back into his fencing uniform and slips out the backdoor.

Thus begins his journey through swamps, fields, and epochs, wherein he meets historical figures large and small, friendly hybrids, and all sorts of other unusual persons and creatures. Personally, I recommend resurrecting Spewey.

This letter shall serve as a petition. Readers, should you want to see Cabin Boy 2: Poppycock! become a reality, merely sign your name and/or add your message in the comments below. And, of course, feel free to pass this along to other Cabin Boy fans/web activists who might want to help make Poppycock! happen.

Don’t play Coy, Chris. Your fans want it. Your oeuvre wants. You want it.

Let’s make some Poppycock!

Damon

PS–If you get the chance, come to the premiere of my movie. We’ll give you the VIP treatment! (Leave Spewey at home, though.)