In the mid-1970s, my older sister convinced my parents to buy me a monthly subscription to the Dr. Seuss Beginning Reader club. When a book arrived, we’d crack the spine and turn the pages, lingering over the rhymes, humor, and art. As the 70s gave way to the 80s, my sister invited me to read MADMagazine with her. We’d lie on her bed, quietly leafing through the magazine until we’d smirk or laugh at a punch line. Then, for some reason, it felt necessary to discuss what made that particular thing funny. There were times when she’d have to clarify a joke, but she never questioned my ability to grasp cultural or political concepts. In fact, she’d pluck obscure words from the books she read and challenge me to spell, define, and use the word in a sentence by the end of the day. I liked this game and…