Know thyself is easier said than done when you’re a Snarkhunter equipped with the cerebral capacity of a concussed bee.
We see here the Bellman doing his best to keep his crews’ spirits up with a bit of anapestic music-hall-cum-ontological crosstalk, all of it involving some sort of terribly misplaced sense of the Socratic Method … a peripatetic method which requires the use of one’s legs, legs which are now growing comfortably numb as the hemlock works its way downwards.
Season of woe indeed!
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