Letters of the Week No. 4
Dear Krotchett,
I live in Texas, and our school board just banned another batch of books—mostly ones about race, gender, and American history that isn’t wrapped in a stars-and-stripes fairy tale. They say it’s about “protecting kids,” but isn’t it just about controlling what they’re allowed to know?
—Concerned in Corpus Christi
Krotchett Replies:
Oh, Concerned, of course it’s about control! The official slogan of these book-banning types should be “Ignorance is Freedom,” because nothing scares them more than kids learning context.
See, if you let students read about systemic racism, gender identity, or historical injustice, they might start asking pesky questions—like, “Hey, why do we still have Confederate statues but not books about civil rights?” And we can’t have that, because the whole point of these bans is to keep young minds malleable—preferably in the shape of a voting booth that defaults to Republican.
The best part? The same people banning The Bluest Eye or Gender Queer are out here screaming about “free speech” when it’s their ideas on the chopping block. It’s almost like censorship is only bad when it happens to them. Funny how that works.
Dear Krotchett,
I own a small diner in Buffalo, and I just got a call from my beef supplier: prices are about to skyrocket because of Trump’s new tariffs on Canada and Mexico. They say the cost of imported beef will rise 30%, and I can either pass it on to my customers or eat the loss myself. Meanwhile, I’m supposed to believe tariffs “help American workers”? How does screwing over my business and my customers count as help?
—Grilled in Buffalo
Krotchett Replies:
Oh, Grilled, you must be new to the magic of Trump-o-nomics. Here’s how it works: he slaps tariffs on Canada and Mexico under the banner of “America First,” and somehow, the pain of higher prices at your diner is your patriotic duty. See, this administration loves a good economic self-own. First, they punish our closest trading partners (you know, the ones who don’t rely on child labor), then they act shocked when American consumers end up paying for it.
But don’t worry, I’m sure your customers will understand. Just put a sign in the window: “Sorry, our burgers now cost $25 because the President doesn’t understand supply chains.” Maybe add a “Trump 2028” sticker on the napkin dispenser—at least then, you can charge people for the performance art.
Dear Krotchett,
I used to love late-night TV, but it feels different lately. Not weaker—maybe sharper, even angrier. These hosts aren’t pulling punches anymore. It’s like they’ve stopped pretending things are normal and are just unloading every night. Do you think this is sustainable, or will the networks eventually rein them in?
—Up Too Late, Enjoying the Firele
Krotchett Replies:
Oh, Fire Watcher, you’re absolutely right. Late-night is pissed off—and it’s about time. After years of walking the fine line between corporate acceptability and genuine satire, these hosts have realized that the world doesn’t need another round of sanitized celebrity softball interviews.
No, late-night is back to its real job: roasting the powerful, calling out absurdity, and dragging politicians across the coals. And let me tell you, it’s glorious. No more pretending that a second Trump term is just another quirky chapter in American history—these hosts know exactly what’s at stake, and they’re not letting up.
Will the networks let this fire burn? For now. Outrage gets views. But if the wrong billionaire decides his feelings are hurt, don’t be surprised if the FCC suddenly rediscovers its “standards.” Until then, enjoy the heat.
