Treat yourself to a centuryful of fascination.

“Is Magda dead?” I Asked Jeeves. What I found were 626,000 web pages,[…]So I Asked Jeeves, “Does anyone named Magda live in Levant?” and found an African American woman named Magda Levant, living in Lubbock, Texas.[…]I clicked open the browser and Asked Jeeves, not the answer to my prayers—for there to be no death, for Walter to be here, with me, for me to return to my life back in Monlith, my life before Charlie, before any of this—for I knew no computer could deliver that. No, instead I Asked Jeeves for a way to take action, some help in my effort to make the world a better place, death and all. Walter would have been so proud. “How does one solve a mystery?” I typed. And then, for good measure, I added the word “murder” before “mystery,” since this was indeed what I was dealing with. I scrolled down the search results.[…]I thought to offer the neighbor my wisdom, everything I had learned since I had Asked Jeeves how to solve Magda’s murder.

For Modes of Faith let graceleſs zealots fight; / His can't be wrong whoſe life is in the right:

Not even the heart of one of the delectable slim-legged ponlettes who high-heel in swarms wherever the celluloid Napoleons decree a sceneful of extras, female; no, nothing but a downy, cuddly chick that eventually grows up into a cackling, flowerbed-scratching Biddy, with no ambition beyond inspiring omelets and eventually herself becoming casserole filling.