As it would turn out, I was the one who was wrong.  I was the one transgressing the bounds of good faith because I had used their terms.  That I had gathered them and defined them and named them and put it up for all the world to see.   Especially since they didn't ask me to.   That gave them carte blanche to take the name and concept of my work as their own.   But they did alter the spelling by one letter and, on the radio, that makes everything OK.   At least everything is OK and happy in the Susquehanna Nation.  Because nothing else matters but the numbers and I am just one in the 11.5.  And therefore inconsequential.

I am thirsty.

I had never asked for anything.  All I had wanted was to provide a service for my fellow fans and recognition for the work I had done.  But that wasn't in the best interest of marketing the Ticket.  I imagine it all had to look like their idea after all, they didn't ask me to do anything.  So after all the time I spent running out to remotes and staying up till all hours to make sure that other faithful listeners got a chance to see what went on at the Guys' Night Out, I have had enough.   I will do no more for the Susquehanna Nation.

Eloi, Eloi, lama scabachthani?

It's no longer fun anymore.

I've had enough of fighting the playground bully because he wants my toy.  I'm not taking anymore lumps for it.  I've given more than my pound of flesh for it and have no more left to give.  But remember:  He who sows the wind . . .