I have decided. And when I have decided, I stay decided. Rather than engage in mental fisticuffs with Amos, the Sage of San Diego, known from the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli as lettered, as wise, as sagacious, as insightful, as savvy, as caring, as a true Renaissance gentleman of the Twenty-First Century, indeed, as I say, a true Son of Knowledge, one whose Knowledge About Knowlege is second only to my own, I will, henceforth and forevermore, eschew the word "kludge." I will banish it from my vocabulary, and never again will it pass bidden or unbidden from my lips or fingers.

I have spoken.

Goddamn thing still rhymes with
“fudge” and always will . . .