Dear British Guardian Readers
I cannot tell you how grateful I am to be able to write to you on White House notepaper. I cannot thank you enough for your cruciate support in our country’s recent presidential election. When my colleagues used to show me cuttings from the opinion pages of your newspaper, the cartoons, and the letters you wrote to the editor, I could not understand why you hated me and my fellow Americans so much; your Prime Minister Blair is a such a good friend—whiney maybe, but a good friend. I am embraced to admit it now, but I thought you that your views about Iraq and Afghanistan, about the War on Terror, about the environment, and about the members of my administrontium were “rubbish”.
Since you won Ohio for me with your reverse psychology letter-writing campaign I have realized that I was blinded by my ignoramus of British sophistication. Jean, my international media adviser, has studied in your fine country and visited it many times. She told me that your writing style is “a model of English irony”. She said that this meant that what you say and what you mean are very different. So all along you wanted me and Dick to win! I feel like a dumb monkey.
Thank you again. I get The Guardian delivered every day now, but I know that I should read everything in it the other way round. I like Seumas Milne.
p.s. Jean has just read this letter over and tells me that I have mastered this irony thing just fine.