Dear John (Oliver),

Hi Mr Oliver. I’d ask if it’s OK to call you John, but since I’m writing you a letter on the internet that I plan to tweet at (to?) you, formal is probably a better option. Not that you’re likely to even read it.

Let’s try that again.

Mr (John) Oliver,

I’ve been a fan of your work for some time now but I just wanted to drop you a line to say Holy Shitballs. Tonight during my downtime I decided to watch some of your video’s on Youtube. This happens every so often. It would only be creepy if I wasn’t wearing pants while I did it. For the record — I am.

It was while I was doing this that I came across part of a segment that is beyond the pale. I’m referring of course to your segment on Washington DC statehood that can be found here.

While there can be no question that what you did and said in this segment was absolutely necessary what makes this segment go way beyond anything I have seen you produce before is the song at the end of it.

You, sir, and your incredible staff (but lets be honest — mostly you) have created a masterpiece of epic proportions and should be proud of what you have created. I didn’t think anything could break through the funk I’ve found myself in lately but not only did you manage it, you did something I didn’t think was possible.

You made me laugh.

I’m not saying that you made me smile or guffaw or snicker, all which your segments certainly achieve on a regular basis, no what I’m referring to here is intense, raucous, and uncontrollable laughter. Indeed at one point I was actually crying with laughter. Up until this point in my life I had thought this to be merely an expression. I stand corrected.

Praise be to Our Lady of Perpetual Exemption that it is a real thing because She only knows how much I needed that laugh. I very nearly pissed my pant’s I was laughing so hard.

So thank-you very much Mr Oliver for continuing dedication to creating — and disseminating — your fine work. If you ever find yourself thirsty and in my part of Australia there’ll be a drink with your name on it waiting.



PS. When I wrote this it was midnight 4 days after I quit smoking and I’ve had not longer that 4 consecutive hours sleep in those 4 days. I’ve read through it 5 times but I still have no fucking idea if it makes even a modicum of sense. Sorry.