It just makes no sense at all.
It really doesn't!
Should I scratch my head in confusion? Assume the worst? Or worse than that (close ears. Don't think.)?
Fusty fiddly petty prudish biased blustering gone gone gone.
I think that's pretty much it. Why not sit down and have a drink?
Nothing more appropriate. Time to reconsider motives.
Time to motivate and get moving. Time to laugh and forget about the whole goddamn thing. That's what they all do. But really - there's nowhere to go and no escape from the prison of our thoughts.
Three stops. Three strikes. And a final run. All the way home.
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