I mean this with all my heart (ex totis praecordiis meis).
At this very special time of the year, I want to acknowledge the holiday season by being completely cryptic. As you can imagine, after decades of bureaucratic obfuscation and legalistic pettifoggery, mystification comes to me quite readily. And what better way to convey the awe of the human condition’s incomprehensibility than an image of a pilgrim frozen in toga wetting terror before the mysteries of the divine? Or as the Irish put it, “And who’s he when he’s at home?”
The image represents the mystery’s outward face, de arcanibus et ritibus Solis Invicti, the exoteric countenance only presented to the uninitiated, beyond which they can learn no more. Those gifted with the third eye, initiates in the Delphic and Eleusinian doctrines, my disciples and boon companions, will soon receive a secret message, sent by the antiquated means of snail mail, that will reveal all to them, the means to eternal life and youth everlasting. That is, if they can read the learned language, lingua Latina.
Actually, in all truth, if they do bother to try and translate the letter, it’ll just show what a lousy Latin student I am. And if you haven’t guessed by now, I’m not one bit serious about anything supra other than to sincerely wish that all my dear friends have a fun, enjoyable holiday.
Salve, Amici!