The only upside to all the recent Twitter drama (for me) is the fact that I can finally archive this poorly-aged longform performance art, which was significantly more enjoyable as a slow-drip than in the aggregate. Over two-and-a-half years of this – and with no real baseline on how to react to the deranged interior monologue of grown-up Peaksville, Ohio resident Anthony Fremont (google it) – I decided the best use of my time was to reverse-Parklife the senseless staccato screams of the most powerful person on the planet. When it began, I was worried I wouldn’t have enough material to do the whole song. A few months in, I was worried I would.

Something called Indy100 wrote it up when I was halfway through and spelled my name wrong, which somehow feels appropriate.