"In September 2003, the descendants of John Marshall, the fourth and arguably greatest Chief Justice of the United States, gathered at the Richmond Marriott for a weekend of cocktails and lectures." So begins the most laugh-out-loud funny piece of writing I've stumbled across in a literary journal since... It's damn funny is my point. Peyton Marshall, a descendent of no fewer than three of John Marshall's six children ("Kissing cousins," explains the author's father). I want you to read this, but I don't want to spoil it trying to sell it to you. I'll just say this: the things that shouldn't be funny are: the wax bust of John Marshall, the fawning historians, the flashbacks to the author's short career selling double-wides on the Iowa prarie. And if you don't know A Public Space, the fine people who published this fine piece, you ought to.
Source: A Public Space