He lopes onstage in jeans and a Cleveland Indians T-shirt, lanky and gray-haired, radiating the weapons-grade affability that has made him both phenomenally popular and, at some parties, viscerally reviled. Andy Borowitz is in the building. He writes fake-headline political humor for The New Yorker's website. It does huge traffic, or yuge, as he might himself quip, affably. Donald Trump reference. Get it? Of course you do. This drives some people nuts. We have gathered here, on a rainy October Saturday evening, in a Manhattan performance space a few blocks from the Lincoln Tunnel, to watch Borowitz and Sarah Silverman talk politics as part of the 2016 New Yorker Festival. It is the brief and nauseous interval between "grab 'em by the pussy" and the second presidential debate; the event is subtitled "Election '16: Crying on the Inside." The pair did a talk like this in 2012, jovially dragging Mitt Romney, though now, as Borowitz notes with a smile, Trump makes Romney sound like Nelson Mandela. Big laugh. Applause break.