To Michelle Wolfe (first letter)


Dear Michelle,
As you held my attention it felt unprecedented, as if nothing like your turn at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner had ever happened before.
Everybody wants in on a joke, but nobody wants to be one.  I’ve tried to avoid embracing the heroism of the jester, the agency of a trickster, if it’s already in the script. You’ve surely understood this dilemma from your beginnings.  You knew of it before agreeing to speak that evening, before entering the pseudo-event.
I want to believe we drift on and off the stage of the world’s owners at will, uncontained, that you haven’t needed to consider the plausibility of this desire in doing what you’ve done, that our lives survive their representation.
There’s still no justice, no peace and no clean water in Flint, Michigan, but you’ve given me pause anyway:  What remains unwritten?  No matter who gets the last laugh, I will always love you for it.