Traits of American Humour, Vol. 2 of 3

A tongue‑in‑cheek narrator opens the work with a raucous manifesto that treats editing like a culinary art, feeding on political discord and the greed of self‑appointed “shepherds” of opinion. The prose stitches together parody, dialect, and a relentless stream of absurdist slogans, laying bare the contradictions of free‑market rhetoric, patriotic pretension, and the hollow promises of power. It feels like a carnival mirror reflecting the louder, louder voices that shape public discourse, all while keeping a wry, almost lyrical rhythm.

The second section drops us into the modest home of the Beanpole family, where Josh, a nervous youth, announces his sudden preoccupation with love. His bewildered mum tries to diagnose his “twitteration,” while Josh fumbles through a comically clumsy confession that Hannah Downer has courted him. The scene captures the same sharp satire as the opening, but folds it into a personal, farcical slice of small‑town life, promising further misadventures in wit and wordplay.