Nothing, really should be construed to mean anything in particular. This is, after all, a compost heap upon which I dump all the B.S. that drops on the field of my consciousness. Pretentious, overbearing and underwhelming all at once. The meaningless drippings of a mind infested with semantic diarrhea. Make of it what you will - like the artisan in Minnesota making money on goose-poop art - or ignore it and remain somehow richer...