Director Zliplitt Again on the State of Blogs

I am currently sitting in the smallest room of my abode with printouts of your charming Blog responses and the inevitably-attached most sincere solicitations for budget dog-collars, snake lubricant, and vinyl siding before me. Soon they will be behind me. We at the Institute were keenly aware that any "rubbing of elbows" with the execrable Internet would entail social dealings more appropriate for the dusty and jabber-laden street markets of Mwaktkent, and intimate convivial interactions reminiscent of the lowest bordello (Your entire nation ever-more in its business, education and governance resembling such an establishment). Somehow, magically, miraculously, we easily resist temptations to insert our probosci between the comforting fleshy posterior orbs, or apply our tongues to the glistening upper surfaces of boots. We're cognizant that this means social ostracism but we are equally keenly aware that we have been, as some have said, "forcibly vomited from far better ale-houses." We plough ahead--Juggernaut-like--regardless.