Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m sort of supposed to be this jaunty, carefree, whistling, heel-kicking, goofy-cap-wearing, wise-cracking, insightful-yet-outside-of-it-all Fool type of guy who really just appreciates, commentates, and basically has a rip-roaring time without getting too bogged down in the petty discourtesies of man. But. Here’s the thing. This wall they’re building? I gotta admit, it is starting to really creep me out. For the first few days, it was a source of entertainment. I’d go sit on a big pumpkin and just watch. The weather was nice. I’d watch the little interactions among the brick stackers, the outliners, the caulkers, the levellers, the servers—it was all a big TV show, plenty of tragedy, plenty of laughs. I figured they’d get tired of it, see how ridiculous the whole project was after a week or so. That’s how they are. But it’s been several months now, and there’s no sign that they’ll be losing steam any time soon. Steam. Well, you know what I mean. As a matter of fact, they’re almost finished. But now their operation is drawing near on two flanks to the other city. The city where it’s almost always night. I don’t know what they’re going to do when they get there. Because let me tell you, if I’m afraid to go in there, then they’ve got to be petrified poopless. Times like this, I could really use a cup of tea. Times like this, the crushing loneliness of this place really sings. I mean, I can find tea bags, a mug, even ways to get hot water. But that’s not what tea is. If you’ve ever sat in a cafe, or tete-a-tete in someone’s bamboo antechamber, or even at the plain old kitchen table with your mom, you know what I’m talking about. And I’m not going to talk about it any more, because I’m obviously too hard-bitten to cry.