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How could I answer?
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How could it apply? "Nothing applies," I print with a
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magnetized IBM pencil. "What does apply?"
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they ask later, as if the word "nothing" were
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ambiguous, open to interpretation, a questionable fragment of an
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Icelandic rune. "There are only certain facts," I
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say, trying again to be an agreeable player of the game,
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"certain facts, certain things that happened."
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They will misread the facts, invent connections,
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will extrapolate reasons where none exist,
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but, I told you, that is their business here.
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And I think it would be wonderful to end the semester with a strong