It's November frickin 13th, and already with the decorated streetlamps. That means we're just a few days away from the concentration-camp speakers on poles blasting mind-control "music" intended to break our spirit with its incessant pulsating "pa-rum-pum-pum-pum".I'm already poised to confess to anything, anything, but all they want me to do is buy shit, and that I cannot do. Not out of high principle, mind you, but because some fiendish bureaucratic criminals have found a way to create a vacuum in my bank account, one that sucks up incoming funds without any actual contact by me. So I can only stand forlornly by the wayside as the great engines of commerce parade by, sooty benjamins fluttering in their wake. Is it time? Yes, I think it is: bah, humbug!