It has been brought to my notice, by a group of thoroughly unimportant people--which does not include the Pope or his merry men--that sentences of a size corresponding to the description “overly long and redundant,” meaning drawn out, repetitive, saying the same thin more than once, and meandering--not to mention obscure--are of little use to anyone, might prove hazardous to the health, in that they might cause scribble fatigue to overly critical readers, and I have, since being informed of this state of affairs, made certain attestations to certain detestable persons to the effect that in times to come, including, I might add, the present that is--as well as the present that is not--I will never again compose a sentence that does not bear, at its very core, absolute brevity--shortness--which might prove astounding to those people easily astounded and at least reassuring to others, for not only will my sentences now and onward contain a minimum number of words, but also the words will contain a minimum of letters; and I shall, further, in an effort to assure everyone that my resolution is genuine, refrain from dotting the letter “I,” unless told otherwise by the letter “b.”