Tis the drumroll into the doom scroll, Sire.

The anticipation of having to sing for one's supper, post the most engaging fool's riddle that pleases the Court in the Castle of Algorithm. Thy factions battle with symbols and are sworn to their ancestors' hatreds while the sun riseths anew with plenitude for the hungry just beyond the walls of the freeway over yonder. In another life, my parents- w...