Wherein...
(Dearest Reader-Spectateur of highest regard)
It ("it" being a collection of useless trifles in the form of the dear authors intent) has been planned as such for so many a day and a night, within the confines of the mental faculties of the aforementioned (or at the very least, suggested by the existence of text) bachelor-amateur (in whatever guise that may, in fact, entail).
The plan, that which is now to be dispensed with, is thus: on this collection of pages is intended to be contained a collection (indeed, as so previously implied) solely devoted to trivia and miscellania...some of which could contain (but certainly with no specific promise of such) not only facts, but also rubrics, diagrams, cyphers, quotes both literal and paraphrasical, maxims, aphorisms, esoterica, thought-puzzles, so-called "word-play," and matters both pedantic and aesthetic.
And so, to commence, I therefore present a quaint sort of challenge, in the form of a sober statement of fact that merely insinuates matter-of-factitude (for in fact, there is little-to-none to be had in said following statement without proper vouchsafes given on the part of the author), of obscure proportion:
I humbly suggest an introspection regarding the implication set forth in the episode known in history (specifically the History Militant) in the corporeal form of The Potsdam Grenadiers, the so-called Giants;
Or, (perhaps as an all-emcompassing challenge in the form of overall discussion) On Building a better bodyguard.
~Dain Quentin Gore
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