by Danny Cohen
Gentle people of the Minutiæ readership:
We are publishing this open letter to address the awful accident that took place at our Arkansas printing press facility this past Springtime. Many immigrants failed to remain alive throughout the ordeal. It is impossible to know how so many gears could be spun in so many wildly different directions, yet spun they did.
Now, before we rush to judgement (and I cannot stress this enough) DO NOT BLAME THE GEARS. Gears are what has made this United American country so great. Not only the gears that power our steamed engyned trains, but the gears of our clocks and the gears of our experimental mechanical servants. Not only the gears of industry, but the gears of commerce and a new segregation based on the only value that matters: social class.
Were we without gears, the Irish or Scottish, at a moment's notice, could bluntly fall our beautiful nation. Without gears, might the people of southern continents force us into a rootbark-based economy. Let us bless ourselves, the fallen immigrants, and the mighty teethed wheels that power this grand collection of states we call home. God blessed thy.
Dear Victorious American Readers: At our converted Hamburg Printinghaus recently, faulty ventilation caused the death of thirty eight of our dirty-finger-nailed Jerry employees, and, I guess, we must address this.
Firstly, we must say that only the tiny hands of motherless children can mash pulp properly. Only that pulp, formed into paper, will hold the economical Turkish ink that we use to print Minutiae. We all make sacrifices to bring important news and reporting to the world. For instance, our editors log long hours holding their hands behind their backs, slowly nodding while peering out through windows overlooking the printing shoppe floors. Our layoutmen spend days on end shuffling around wooden bits of letters, wearing cumbersome leather aprons, goggles and gloves. Therefore, remember, it is not only the motherless children who submit themselves to servicing the greater good. As you read this I grow tired from leafing through the many contract pages required to have a historic riverfront mansion burned and converted into a world class brawling stage.
In this publicly-reported-upon instance, the pulping of paper occurred on a particularly chilling Winter day. To amass savings to pass along to you, the reader, we use the heat generated by the pulping process to warm our paper processing plants. If any heat escapes, then we lose those savings and must raise the price of our published materials. Wouldn’t you agree, dear reader, that it is in the best interests to keep vents closed and the fume-ed heat held within? Exactly.
Again, we can only blame the vents for not being able to separate fumes from heat and we have tasked our Minutiæ Science Laboratory (once they are done drawing up plans for a world-class brawling stage) with creating such a vent. Until then, pulping will continue with tiny and even more motherless children. Think of thy savings!
It recently came to light that conditions in our off shore Korean printing facility were less than humane. Jolly whistleblowers, undercover bloggers and biased unionizers uncovered the facilities that our contract workers were producing Minutiæ (and the all new MinutiæÂ Day Beds) under. These reports cite several grievances including elevators that tipped over, leaking light bulbs and a general lack of suitable flooring. And, of course, we were astonished that such horrificies saw the light of day.
We blame the one man who we entrusted with the health and safety of our Korean contract workers. This man we only knew as ë¡ ìš¸í”„ ì•„ì´ (The Lone Wolf Eye) and he disappeared shortly after the terrifying conditions were reported in the media.Â While there were several red flags that should’ve indicated his untrustworthiness (his constant lighting matches off his cobra skin boots, his leaning back in chairs and looking at the ceiling to dismiss concerns, and his frequent inquiries to if we enjoyed “salty tastes”), we were being urged by stock holders (many of whom are no longer American citizens) to sign the agreement for him to look over our Korean printing facility.
We want to make it clear that Minutiæ prides itself on appearing to hold ourselves to the highest of working conditions. From our publishing team’s Cold Stone Creamery gift cards down to the Minutiæ measuring tapes given in lieu of holiday parties, Minutiæ has stated we are committed to a high standard and we will continue to state that we are committed to such a high standard. If anyone sees ë¡ ìš¸í”„ ì•„ì´ in a Southern state, please tell him to get in touch with us as we are still eagerly awaiting the arrival of the first shipment of Minutiæ Day Beds.