I'm typeless. I was going to say I was speechless, but it doesn't make any sense to say "speechless" here because nobody's speaking. We're all typing. Of course, that observation has diddley-squat to do with black velvet paintings.

That is unless one subscribes to the philosophy that all knowledge can be reduced to a black velvet painting, in which case the sum of the world's knowledge is wearing a sombrero and smoking a cigar in a Mexican restaurant in Opp, Alabama.