Dear Saudi Arabia,
So, you’re up to your old tricks again, eh? I was having a massage, (not the happy ending kind, more’s the pity), at the Thermal Spa at Grand Resort Bad Ragaz in Switzerland and the masseuse handed Me a copy of The Independent to skim while I had the Holy Back rubbed. When I saw what you guys have done now I was appalled. I mean, I know that My old school chum Allah can be pretty hard-core and unforgiving but sometimes you Mohammadens just take it too far.
Seriously, to tell a guy he can’t get married because he plays the oud is, on the one hand, outrageous and on the other just about par for the course with you. It’s not like he’s a pathological maniac who sawed someone into little pieces. For some reason the paper went on and on about the woman not getting married. That’s at least one thing you and I can agree on. Who cares about women, am I right?
I’ll bet you didn’t even know that the lord your god, Allah, used to play the oud at the Big Bang Academy for Young Deities, where We were in the same house, (Go Monotaurs!) Sure, Shangdi and Chukwu and all Our other chums used to make fun of Him for being such and artsy-fartsy pansy, but He just kept on playing. And you know what? It eventually grew on Me. I came to actually like oud music. Especially when He’d cover Purple Haze. You should have known Him then. That was before He got into all this stoning and whipping and Hajj stuff.
Anyway, If I were you I’d prepare for some pretty sharp condemnation from the music-loving community. I can’t imagine anything that would shock the world more than this. So let this be a lesson to you. When you do something as awful as this, I’m watching… if I’m not lounging poolside with a Mai Tai or eating at a three-Michelin-star restaurant or if I can be bothered.
Wish you were here,