Methinks that somebody upstairs doth protest too much. There is no W to be caught here in my possession, however loudly thou mightedst protest. All this commotion is making me very certain that there is some hidden card that I will perhaps never see coming and for which I have no remedy or defense, and for which there will be no reason for me to fight back and continue this worthless and futile investigation into nothing much. Still, it is not nice to fool me in this crude and silly way.
Which reminds me of the conversation that we had in college about how sometimes treat us like "it," like I am just a piece of worthless junk that everybody loves to kick around. If you want someone to have an ugly personality, churlish and cheerless and selfish and cranky, just treat them the way you treat me. Then you will get back what you put into it, which is nothing really.
