Dear Treasury Secretary, Henry Paulson & Federal Reserve Chairman, Ben S. Bernanke,

My name is Rudolf.

I am sure you do not know me that well. Not the way you know Bears Stearns, Fannie Mae, Freddie or even the man called AIG. For if you do, you will not be sitting there, watching while I am teetering on the blink of collapse.

I am married – to a very beautiful woman. I am a father of two – one cute girl and one charming boy - all potential presidents.

I have five brothers and a sister - all smart dudes and babe making waves in their corners of the world.

I have my parents- the ones who taught me how to think for myself.

I have my grand mother- God bless her for the good gene.

I have nine aunts and three uncles. (What are their names?)

I have four nieces and four nephews. (I haven’t seen most of them but their births were all announced.)

I have sixty first cousins. (I did not count those who failed DNA tests)

I have over two hundred second cousins. I lost count of the third cousins. They all look up to me to bring home the bacon.

I have sixteen thousand home town folks. I was their star student. They are still waiting for my stardom to shine on them.

In my state we are three million. The governor’s mansion is being held in trust until I return to claim it. They are waiting patiently for me to acquire the wisdom I need to govern. Oh, and experience, too. Like shooting the moose and stuffs like that.

In my ethnic group, the Igbo, we are about 40 million scattered all over the globe. They are lost sheep. The hope lies in what my generation and I choose to do. They are waiting.

In my country, we are one hundred and fifty million. All of them are counting down - to my return and to my ascendance of the throne.

Because I am also one of the headstones of a continent, the 600 million people there are all looking up to me. They are waiting for my return. They are hoping that I will come with cures for many aliments.

I am also part of the new world. The 300 million strong people in the New Hemisphere. They need my new idea. They need me to infuse my fresh idioms into their tired blood stream.

I am part of the six billion people on this earth. I belong to the special group - the blessed group -those who have the luxury of having a computer and the knowing of how to use it. (My apologies John McCain.) The group in whose hands lies the hope of humanity. I am aware of this responsibility. I am carrying it with grace.

So my friends, Paulson and Bernanke, I am too big to fail.

Picture the line of casualties that will follow my fall. It will litter heaps and heaps of victims across the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Mediterranean, and over the mountains of Everest and the Valley’s of Grand Canyon. It will blanket the Sahara Desert. It will cover the North and South Poles.

So Paulson & Bernanke, I am an Iroko tree – I am too big to fail.

Rescue me.

Bail me out.

Once again, my name is Rudolf. I am too big to fail.