PYONGYANG—Recently, Iron E-News was given the rare chance to attend a very special and exclusive book signing in an exotic, distant, and oft misunderstood place: the residential palaces in the heart of the DPRK.
Kim Jong Un, the son of the late and great example to dictators everywhere, officially released his first mini autobiography just last week.
“This book,” related the younger Kim, “Will surely put all other books to shame. In fact, we are having a book burning next week. You should come. You will witness as we raise Father’s legacy in tribute above the flames, gazing on his shining, beneficent face until the knowledge of lesser mortals is nothing but ASHES AT HIS FEET!! AAAAAHAAAAHAAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!”
After thirty minutes, Jong Un got back on track and began to touch on a few of the softer, tenderer moments in his life with The Dear Leader.
“Well, the time Dad took me to my first public execution is definitely at the top of my list. We sat together in the warm sun, laughed, and had the best kimchi on the planet. The spice was just right—not too spicy but still spicy. You know what I’m talking about. Now, that was a day to remember.”
“And how could I forget the day Father unveiled his matchless might in the form of a high-tech ballistic missile called the T2 (great movie by the way)—it was then that I realized that I never knew my Father (nor he me) until that day. The head nod he gave me was more than just a signal for me to cut the ribbon—in my mind it signaled the start of a new friendship and era in my life. And I knew that (now, he could come back from the dead and kill me for suggesting this so make sure it’s off the record. No really, he will) behind those dark sunglasses his eyes were tearing up as much as mine.”
“And then there were all those memorable trips we took. Trips to the underground prisons, the above ground prisons, the house prisons, the dungeons, the prisons for the mentally unstable, the prisons for the sane, for traitors, fools, boring people, people whose faces we get tired of looking at, prisons for the old, the sick, the lame, the poor, the homeless, the orphaned, the widowed, the mediocre, the creative, and my personal favorite—the prison for thought criminals!”
This unique glimpse into the life of a dictator-dad through the perspective of an adoring son, though already being placed alongside the greater works of history, will surely be remembered as one of the tenderest in a long, long while.