NO-PRIZE CONTEST

Not because I've suddenly turned spiteful and stingy--it's actually been a long, slow journey--but because I had to doctor this watercolor on the computer until it was almost presentable. The original is not worth awarding as a prize. So consider this a warm-up exercise, to poke and prod that sodden lump of grayish gelatin clinging gooily to  the inner surface of your hollowed-out cabbage. Clue, and I'm making this so easy for you it would be a stunning humiliation from which you may never recover should you not guess the answer within milliseconds, which, as we all know, are seconds with a thousand legs, the purpose for which has always eluded me: this is Gary Oldman, and he's holding a book. See? What did I tell you? Piece of cake. Oh, sorry, I was thinking about what to snack on next. Where was I? Oh, yes, the prizeless contest. This'll be like those spineless variants of T-ball foisted on children these days: everybody's a winner! You just stand around nudging a ball in a desultory manner for a while, and then you tire and go home empty-handed. Just like life.