March 9, 2017

Dear Mr. Franklin,

I regret that I have not until now returned the favor of your letters. Much of the past few months have been occupied by trimming my friends lists and riding Duck Boats. The Patriots victory did provide a brief respite here in Boston. We were able to imbibe in the clean Atlantic air before again suffocating the flatulent stench of incompetence that emanates from Washington City. But I confess that these months have weighed heavily upon me. I did not want to approach a man of fair character without first aligning my chakra and applying due consideration to my words.

My progress is not unremarkable, Mr. Franklin. A diplomat of renown such as you I hope could appreciate the disciplined manner to which I have tamed my New England temper. I am indebted to Abigail of course for my recovery, as so oft before. Her calm optimism and vegan diet have been salves to my wounded faith in the republic.

We recently returned from a splendid retreat in Provincetown and have—you may also appreciate—retained an amorous energy that has little precedent in our devout partnership. And I have not, in nary two weeks, watched a moment or read a tweeted word from the crapulous orange mass, nor once gloated upon the Patriots righteous victory over that other demonic pudding-headed imbecile. Negativity and animosity are, I have learned, incompatible with growth. I thus pray that my ujjayi breath will not permit the hordes of ignorant stooges that so disproportionately populate the earth to disrupt my prana and bring imbalance.

But this is not why I write. I write because despite my best efforts, I lay awake most nights. Our skills of rhetoric and persuasion, Mr. Franklin, even when allied by an eastern sensibility are, I fear inadequate. We may be attempting to tame a serpent when we should be cutting off its head.

I know nothing of coding or what it is to hack. But I trust that you have taken more ably to modern life, while I have fumbled amidst webs and wires during my fits of insomnia. I am convinced that the secret to our republic’s liberty lies not just in disinterring our values but disentangling a web of lies and ethernet cables. If liberty cannot be preserved without general knowledge among the people, I am convinced that no one on this side of Jerusalem is better suited to the task of exposing the truth by any means and any medium, than you.

I am not without apprehensions. If it is true that you are acquainted with Mr. Christopher Steele and that you are in possession of Mr. Brady’s jersey, you would be wise to tread carefully. And we would be wise to continue writing in script. They may hack the electronic mail of every agent and antagonist, but nobody reads letters anymore.

I am as ever, your obedient friend and accomplice,

John Adams