Congratulations, my child. You have clutched the reigns of your free rein and attracted everything you now own: the death toll, global ridicule, uncontrollable perspiration, Stormy and Mary’s books, distraction from the Black bodies swinging from the resumés of Biden and Harris, coughs that feel like you’re swallowing razor blades. Never before have you felt more human. Never have you been more American. Your next four weeks will be your most creative. Reign on.