Literacy. Well, y'know, a broad-based idea of literacy that includes things like media literacy and technical/scientific literacy and numeracy (crummy neologism, but what can you do?) and critical thinking and whatnot.

I'd write books, and maybe an occasional essay. I wouldn't merchandise, for fear that peddling tchotchkes would compromise my integrity, and because I'm kinda opposed to both throwaway consumer culture and the cult of celebrity.

Yeah, maybe that's not really a recipe for a media empire.

It's not an empire, it's a dictatorship.

All citizens will be required to worship my cat, Philo, as the Prime Mover.

Any who fail to do so will be forced into a life of confinement in a one-bedroom apartment with nothing to eat but small brown pellet-y things, nowhere to relieve themselves but a plastic box half-filled with a clay-like substance of indeterminate origin, and nothing to do but sleep, stare out the window, half-heartedly bat at strings, shout mindlessly at invisible bugs on the wall, and vomit at random intervals.

Wait, that's not what you meant, is it?

All office furniture will have wheels on it by imperial decree.

Monster-truck wheels.

right now mine is about one metre square and contains far too many >100 page batch records that I must translate into quality audit functions.

- Thou shalt not bum me out
- Thou shalt make an effort to be polite under ordinary AND extraordinary circumstances
- Thou shalt not shit in thy neighbors Cheerios for reasons unknown to him
- Thou shalt unwad thine panties at the firstly available opportunity
- Thou shalt look kindly upon small children, dogs and cats of a pleasant nature

GOOD Christian music. As in good quality. NO CHEESE.

Mine would relate to the Gay Agenda of converting straight people into gays. I would have huge talent contests to seek out and reward individuals who were the most successful at this. I would travel with an entourage of transsexual lawyers.

I would begin marketing a line of fragrances deliberately designed to confuse sexual response. I would have a cable show in which people would anonymously describe their conversion successes, which both gay and straight people would watch with bug-eyed interest. And when faced with backlash from conservatives, I would deliver all of my media statements and rebuttals in the form of music videos.

In my empire, people who are too damned lazy to walk the extra 15 feet and stow their grocery carts in the cart corral will have their fingers nibbled off by a tiny, ferocious, and ravenous woodland creature with very sharp teeth. And then I will put them into that unstowed grocery cart and wheel them off of the cliff outside my palace, watching them break open on the rocks below.

Also, free cookies on Mondays.

Some of you are completely misunderstanding the question, but I love you anyway.

Hermitosis: marry me. Once you make that legal.

Box has it. I have always wanted to lead a media-literacy revolution. I would start from my position as Chancellor of the University of Californa, revolutionize pedagogy at the U level and move on to the world. Theoretically, this would create such widespread empowerment and equal distribution of information and knowledge, that the gratitude of the masses would result in a nice palenquin for my transport and lots and lots of power jewelry and gelato.

Me, I'd start an internet trolling empire. I'd consolidate trolls the way spammers and bloggers are consolidating. Publicly, I would be talking about "subverting the media" and "bringing it back to the masses". I'd start with documentaries and a reality TV talent contest. I'd market trolling handbooks, pit famous trolls against each other on TV, push them, make them into public figures and dump them after they've had their 30 minutes of fame. Of course I would also produce all sorts of branded trash (t-shirts, mugs, computer accessories, maybe even a customized web browser).

fuck literacy, there'll be time for that. I'll lead a revolution to overthrow capitalism once and for all -- and social justice will reign


for reals this time, unlike those lame-0 Russkis

My empire would start with Australia.

My media empire would be part talk-show host, part life-affirming self-help (HEY AMERICA: MAP IT OUT! The LT Way), and part searing musical talent.

People would tune in to my late-night show (HOLLYWOOD FEELS COMFORTABLE AROUND LT! - cue Entertainment Tonight opening theme), then I'd replace Dr. Phil and walk Middle America through their quotidian woes (WHY IS AMERICA TALKING TO THIS MAN? - Man of the Year Cover, Time Magazine, August 2010), and then completely shred with my musical guests (LT AIN'T JUST A TALKING HEAD! - David Byrne)

I'd be linked to everyone from Oprah to Courtney Love. Map It Out! will become the catchphrase of the late 21st century, with mugs, tee-shirts and the 2012 Olympics will feature Mappy, an adorable pushpin-shaped mascot.

I will give the eulogy at Bob Dylan's funeral, and my ensuing single, "Hard Rain Keep On Fallin'" will grace the Adult Contemporary charts for 100 weeks.

Mappy.

Box - let the lawsuits begin. Also, I think I love you.

I would be the anti-Oprah. I'd encourage repressing your feelings and opinions when appropriate (which is more often than current pop-psych wants you to think.) I'd have a "Crap I Hate" episode where I'd tell people what sucky stuff NOT to buy. I'd recommend books that didn't revolve around women experiencing an emotional awakening. You know, that kind of stuff.

It starts in the fall.

My television show called, "Late Nights at the [As of Yet to Be Determined Adjective] House" which is like a variety/residency show becomes a critical darling and the talk of the internerd. In our giant barn loft (in some place that seems like its off the road but is like five minutes from a hip, urban spot), the show provides swanky living and studio space to a variety of up-and-coming musicians, artists, chefs, filmmakers and the like. The regular content of the show is the standard talk-show fare; guests come in to promote whatever they're doing and we crack jokes about their kids getting weened off diapers. The catch is that its me (the host), a couple residents and the guest having the chat and we talk a bit about the craft of art/whatever in a light-hearted, unpretentious way that appeals and is deeply moving to this current/upcoming generation of people who have any tool of artistic creation at their immediate disposal. As the residents' projects develop, the audience gets to see bits and pieces until the final reveal - which at its best is this perfect synergy of everything going on and discussed in the House.

From there, shit snowballs out of control. We have big name acts that want to come in and be residents for the exposure and the experience, but we stay focused on developing artists and helping shape the culture of creativity. Plus, we start a line of House Sauces: all kinds of delicious mustards and chutneys and such. They're not our sauces, just other people's sauces with our stamp on them and a generous cut coming to us. It is an exclusive club, a savory club and also one that makes everybody involved rich out of their minds. We have trumped Oprah, we are selling our sauces for the price of hardcover books, and when people like them they have to eat more not just lend them to friend. After a while we start packaging what we would call memory-cards in the present with every sauce that include audio and visual rarities from the House. This gets all people who love to eat to also buy recordings and short films from our website.

We start a day-time webcast that becomes just as popular as the proper show. Sans guests, the webcast is devoted exclusively to the residents and particularly their relationships with each other - it is enlightening and scandalous, reality TV with cultural rewards.

I become increasingly known for my war on the House of Representatives and a disdain for the bargain-hunting culture of the middle class which is preventing our (and other) craftspeople from really making good for themselves in the world outside the House. While people still tune in for the guests and residents, I am a polarizing figure. Some view me as a savior of the arts and their public face; to others, I am a corrupting leech who has gained power and notoriety on the backs of young artists while attacking the foundation which has allowed me to exist.

After two-and-a-half years, the show itself burns out, but there is an absolutely colossal final residency that concludes with an aging Eddie Vedder giving the acoustic performance of the century on top of this fucking cliff face with this crazy light/balloon/flying-robot art piece going on in the valley below. It blows people's minds and nobody on the staff wants to even try to create anything like it ever again. It would just leave us all feeling inadequate.

However, with energy diverted from the program, House starts its own production houses. Worth billions, we flirt with the idea of selling the whole thing to the AOLTimeWarnerDisneyGE syndicate (yes, that happened... crazy, huh?) and buying a small country somewhere for the close-knit staff to retire to with their descendants for all time.

I don't know exactly what happens from there, but it is like the Beatles, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Red Sox winning the World Series and sex all in one.