Director Zliplitt to the rescue

My sincerest apologies

Oftentimes, and in regard to issues with which this Director is in total sympathy , the entire staff and faculty of the Institute, from the lowliest toad scrubber to the finely focused gentleman who autographs my paycheck each week, can adopt the mannerisms of a herd of over-sugared schoolchildren (as one may witness through the sequence of increasingly infantile postings below). Certainly, events on "da Urth" recently--those involving the tribulations of a rather charming little nation that's barely recovered from the shock of being ravished by one of its neighbors scarcely a lifetime ago--are, shall we say, stimulating. As much as I am in congruence with my colleagues and am deeply troubled by the turmoil and childish threats I'm distantly hearing about, to save my own sanity and avoid falling into the maelstrom of emotion (for an example, a rather loud pro-Viking rally is taking place in the Institute parking lot even as I dictate this--Professor Pille on bullhorn is an experience to be eagerly missed) I must quite efficiently fall back upon my daily mantra of personal stability--it's "da Urth" so what else would one expect?