The guttural voice of the group id. Yik Yak, the anonymous gossip app. Masquerade. Life as a cabaret vs. the world of polite power, played with pious faces. The "carnivalesque." The Lord of Misrule. Channeling violence and obscenity, at times for a higher purpose, anonymous for good reason, and sometimes just harassment or mob rule, like a lynching. On our best behavior not much can be said to overturn stifling decorum, which itself blocks self knowledge, and social change. Oscar Wilde said, "Man is least himself when he speaks in his own person. Give a man a mask, and he will tell you the truth." The otherwise untold truth, certainly, and much else too that is best, like human nature, hidden beneath skirts, britches, and ecclesiastical robes. "None does offend, none," cries Lear mad, stripping himself in the cold rain. Yet what could be more offensive on the public stage than the king's shriveled genitals? In the presence of human truth, we avert our eyes out of respect for humanity. Laughter comes closer, the split second recognition, before we say, "Excuse me," as I often do, to no avail. For satire there is simply no excuse, not even the classics. "The truth will set you free, but not before its finished with you," wrote David Foster Wallace, author of Infinite Jest, before his untimely death by hanging, self-inflicted.