The last chapter completes the book nicely.

It tasted ... poisony. Turned out, I just didn't rinse well. So much for my theory that my landlord at the time was trying to kill me. He drew out his exhalation to make his point. A long, needless point.

An unlinked Web page on the Internet is unlikely to be found.

My arguments will vary in strength and appeal, but I hope that they are usefully suggestive and present at the minimum a hypothesis worth entertaining. Perhaps we can make some sense of this extraordinary work by making it a little more intraordinary.