Now, my dear friend--now, for your sins, you are to suffer the infliction of a long gossiping letter. I tell you distinctly that I am going to punish you for all your impertinences by being as tedious, as discursive, as incoherent, and as unsatisfactory as possible....Nobody to talk to. Nothing to do. When one has nothing to do, then is the time to correspond with one's freinds. You perceive, then, why it is that I write you this letter--it is on account of my ennui and your sins. --Edgar Allan Poe, "Mellonta Tauta"