I was going to be silent and let China throw its usual tantrum where they filter my name out of their search engines and reroute my hyperlinks to Baidu. But Mr. Hu has decided to make it personal. We can not all be welcomed with open arms and slabs of pressed gold that represent our commitment to the decency of the human race, can we?

Hu, in response to your allegations … First of all I did not walk away from Bobby Brown because he did not have a pen. I walked away from Bobby Brown because “She’s all I need” began playing in my head and it is not dignified to cry in public. Secondly, you do not know what I wear beneath my robes but I will give you a hint: if you ever try to kill me you had best bring kryptonite. As for the potty mouth I am truly sorry but when I am talking about your mother that is the only thing that need be said.

Speaking of your mother:

Associated Press

Talk about sacrifice. Drying out eight meters of a yak wool prayer gown after a day of marching in the rain is more difficult than trying to meditate on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Everyone here at the monastery is praying. They hope that the protests in Burma don’t lead to a repeat of the bloody crackdown in 1988, but all I can think about is if we had known about Lycra back in 1950, it would likely be a portrait of me peacefully presiding over Tienanmen Square instead of Mao.

UPDATE: [Five monks down!]

Instead of joining my fellow monks, I decided to send a care package for the soggy, bereaved freedom fighters abroad:

• Two thousand freshly pressed five hundred thread count, Pima cotton sheets. Extra starch.
• Seven hundred pounds of sandalwood incense.
• One book of matches.

I have tasted the world’s best wienerschnitzel and worn lederhosen in the black forest while listening to a delicately engineered cuckoo clock chime from the back seat of a Volkswagen Jetta. I am not afraid to shout it to the hills while spinning in circles, my arms outstretched and my braided locks trailing in the wind. I love you, Germany.

I must apologize for my dishonorable absence these last two weeks. I have no excuse for my actions unless you have joined the online sensation that is sweeping the world. The only news that I have to report from my time in Azeroth is that I totally outlasted this pussy. That, and my guild (Teh Ub3r L33tz Yakkha) was able to slay Death Talon as he slept soundly in Blackwing Lair.

Please observe Jim Carrey’s heartfelt plea for the release of Aung San Suu Kyi.

While I am certainly in agreement with Mr. Carey’s sentiment, there is one thing missing from this simple statement.

Even though she’s compared to a modern-day Gandhi or Nelson Mandela, most people in America still don’t know about Aung San.

Where is the proper respect for yours truly? I am the recipient of three awards with the word “peace” in them, four with the word “human” and three with the word “rights”. What do I have to do in order for someone to be considered the modern day me? Die? Oh, how convenient, I can not!

Now the Chinese government is telling me where I can and cannot reincarnate myself.

Associated Press

I do not understand what I have ever done to you, China. Why must I be the one who is picked on? I mean, I name Gedhun Choekyi Nyima the next Panchen Lama and then you turn around and name Gyaincain Norbu. Dick move, China!

When the tragedy that was Anna Nicole Smith’s untimely, vomit soaked death reached me here in India, I knew a slot had opened up and E! Entertainment Television would finally be unable to ignore my gentle requests that they follow me with cameras and place my humble but greatly entertaining life on display for all to see.

Instead they have bestowed this highest of honors upon “The Dog” himself. While I have always been the first to praise the simplicity Snoop shows in his masterful lyric bridges, I cannot understand why Entertainment Television would come to him before me. I may not be from the street (it was an icy pathway on a sheer cliff side) but I am most assuredly “hard”.

I have been given a copy of a book that I was not even aware existed: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows.

I do not know who sent me this book, only that it is 500 pages too long and far too depressing for children. Awkward boys in glasses decapitated by evil sorcerers? Teenage girls impregnated by hippogriff owning man-giants? Beloved headmasters risen from the dead only to find they have switched genders?