Governor Newsom,
Consider this an unsolicited gift — a little public service from a stranger who believes in the power of a well-placed sentence to shape the battlefield. My name is Rook T. Winchester. I write sharp, dangerous copy for Closer to the Edge, and while most people in politics are trying to look safe, I make my living reminding readers that playing it safe is a losing strategy.
I’ve been watching your press team light up X with parody posts that cut harder than most late-night monologues. The trolling is pitch-perfect — tighter, funnier, and more viral than anything your opponents could muster. Those tweets weren’t just jokes, they were weapons. You proved that humor, when wielded correctly, can do more damage to the opposition than a dozen policy memos. For that, Governor, you deserve credit.
But now comes the next step. Tweets are good. Viral trolling is good. What’s better? Owning it on camera. Delivering the monologue yourself, live, with that governor’s cadence — part polished, part exasperated, part ‘I can’t believe I even have to say this.’
That’s where I come in. I want to offer my services as a speechwriter — not the bland, staff-approved boilerplate, but the kind of biting, unforgettable rhetoric that people quote for years. Consider this first one free of charge. If you want more, I’ll make sure every camera that points your way catches lightning instead of static.
You’ve already proved you can win Twitter. Let’s win the stage.
Respectfully,
Rook T. Winchester
SAMPLE SPEECH (free of charge)
“Californians — let me paint you a picture. You’re on a beautiful, clean-energy boat. Solar panels glistening, the battery humming with renewable power. It’s the future, folks, the future right here on the water. But suddenly — suddenly — the boat starts sinking. Why? Because Kid Rock stumbled on board with a six-pack and a guitar, and the weight of his mediocrity is dragging us down. That’s right.
Now, here’s the scenario nobody’s talking about. Nobody! I asked Stanford, I asked CalTech, I asked the UC system, and they all said the same thing: ‘Governor, nobody’s ever asked us that before.’ And I said, ‘Well, I’m asking now.’
Because when that boat goes under, you’ve got choices. On one side, you’ve got the battery. Tremendously powerful. If the water floods it, you’re looking at electrocution. Not good. Sparks, currents, zap — gone. But ten yards away, circling the boat, there’s a shark. A big one. And not just one — a whole family of sharks. They’re hungry, they’re circling, they’re sniffing out weakness.
And here’s the twist — just beyond the sharks is Kid Rock, standing on a floating beer cooler, ready to belt out ‘Bawitdaba.’ Now, I’ve got to tell you, people — I don’t like sharks. Never have. Not a fan. Sharks are dangerous, unpredictable, they bite. But if you asked me to choose between a shark and Kid Rock’s residency? That’s a tough one. That’s what leadership is — making the tough calls.
So the question is: do you stay on the boat and risk electrocution? Do you jump overboard and swim with the sharks? Or do you make the ultimate sacrifice and drift closer to Kid Rock, and let your eardrums be shredded by a karaoke cowboy who peaked in 1999?
And I’ll tell you what I’d do — I’ll take electrocution every single time. Fry me with California’s green energy, turn me into a cautionary tale for PG&E. Because I may hate sharks, but I hate Kid Rock’s residency even more. Every single time, electrocution over Kid Rock. That’s my pledge to the people of California.”
If you laughed, winced, or pictured Gavin Newsom solemnly choosing electrocution over Kid Rock, then you understand what we do here. Closer to the Edge is where politics meets absurdity, where satire sharpens into a blade, and where the things you wish someone would say actually get said. If you want more, then hit that subscribe button.
My choice would be, unhook the battery, chuck it at Kid Rock, he sinks with battery, the sharks get him and his beer, and possibly electrocuted from the battery. Kills two birds with one stone. Make a paddle out of one of the solar panels and head for shore. My dad always said “given enough rope, people will hang themselves. “ We have given this administration plenty of rope, now we need to tighten the noose.
Oh…my…god. To put this in a slightly different parlance, it’s the Kobayashi Maru. (Iykyk) We’re there. And, horribly, the courage of Flight 93 comes to mind. There are no pockets in a shroud, people. We need to put it, collectively, all on the field.