I’m not saying i love the ham sandwich, but I hate meat. I’m saying I love the ham sandwich, but I hate that the plate is lined with razor blades. I’m saying I’m not completely opposed to more delicious ham sandwiches in the future, but only when I’m sure you’ve stopped using razor blade plates because I have a concern you’d start putting razor blades right in the sandwiches. I can’t engage these sandwiches, no matter how much I enjoy them, while they’re just a way for you to hide razor blades so that I pick them up and cut myself.

You can have issues with my wardening and we can still work together, but you won’t tell me what the problems are or what you want me to do about them. Just tell me what the problem is, Walter, and what you want me to do about it. Honestly. Plainly. Not in allusions or pop culture references or puzzles or riddles. Just tell me. And if you’re not ready to come out of the House of Implying Things you’ve built so that you always have plausible deniability to hide behind, then I can wait.