Dear People’s Republic of China,

In the last few weeks, there have been many accusations, a bit of hearsay, and a few insults traded between us. Initially, your country had propositioned me to be the artistic advisor for the opening and closing ceremonies for your upcoming Olympic Games, because I am both awesome as well as the World’s Best Director®. In exchange for my invaluable participation, I only asked two very small things of your nation:

1. A considerable wad of cash.
2. A pledge by your government to make a more considerable effort to curb the violence in Darfur, which is perpetuated by your country’s sale of weapons to that region.

Then this shitstorm begins, and before I can say “pole vault”, every Chinese ambassador, ministry official, bureaucrat and their mama-san is spreading crap about how I have “used politics and propaganda to tarnish a celebration of international unity” and “betrayed the Olympic Spirit“.

Well you know what China? You all can suck my Olympic Spirit.

Let’s consider some of the fundamental ideals associated with the Olympic Game. Brotherhood? Well I produced a hit series entitled “Band of Brothers“. Look it up, you dogs. What would you say are other ideals that embody the Olympics? Friendship? Enduring challenges? Hope in the face of adversity?
Well, a while back I made a little animated film called “An American Tale”. I’m sure it’s banned in your country. You philistines. “Tale” was a heartwarming story about an immigrant mouse that comes to this country with nothing, and must make friends with an Irish mouse, an Italian mouse, a French bird and a big gay cat in order to survive and make it in a big city where anything is possible.

You know what? I am that mouse. And that mouse is the American dream. And that American dream is pretty much the Olympic spirit, mostly. Do you see where I’m going with this, or has your government banned analytical thought and transitive relations of logic as well?

China, I just don’t understand you thought process. You had the once in a lifetime opportunity to have Steven Flipping Spielberg put together the “All Grown Up!” montage for your Quinceañera, and what do you do? You flip out on Steven like a fat, greedy little teenage girl for telling you the truth: the swan-shaped ice sculpture was built with blood money and the pony you’re riding into the ballroom is named “Janjaweed”.

You know, now that I think of it, I’m kind of bored with the Nazis playing the main adversary to Indiana Jones. I think that the next film in the Indy franchise will be titled “Indiana Jones and the Superb Asswhupping of China”. Or maybe in “Transformers 2″, it will be revealed that Optimus Prime holds a secret grudge against the Chinese for manufacturing faulty, lead-heavy Energon that leads to Bumblebee’s death.

China, step to me, and your country will be so hopelessly mired in accusations of terrorist activity that General Tsao’s Chicken will be renamed Captain America’s Chicken. So maybe it’s time to step back, take a deep breath and reconsider your options. Because you wouldn’t like Spielberg when he’s angry.