This raises a lot of questions about the makeup of Winslow’s body.

He could not remember that he ever had been well, completely well. But he had faith. Always ready to try something new, he reached for the bottle of “Dopymilstonal, 85MG, Take one or two tablets a day as needed, with or without food”. Those labels are so helpful, so encouraging. One feels better right away because one has hope again. Till next day when the side effects kick in. For some inscrutable reason he tended to be one of those “in rare cases” patients. Sure enough, next morning he felt dizzy and passed a bucket full of pink urine, just as it said in the accompanying little brochure printed on very thin paper in a microscopically small type size. Well, what else is new, he thought, and went to get himself a snack. At night he took another tablet because he felt that it was needed.

It’s October, which means we’re all going to mutilate vegetables! Yeah!

I’m not exactly sure of the right way to go about this, David Strathairn, so I’m just going to come right out and say it. I would really like to see you, David Strathairn, lose your shit. There. It feels good to finally get it off my chest. I know what you must be thinking: Who the fuck is this guy, a guy who, out of the blue, wants to see me, David Strathairn, lose my shit? Wait—is “fuck” a word that you, David Strathairn, would use? Or even think? Not, I imagine, unless you lost your shit. Which is the whole point. So here we are.