If you don't mind sacrificing your sunny disposition, read about the Stringfellow Acid Pits-- I just read the story in an anthology called
The New Kings of Nonfiction-- and the case is a mind-boggling combination of
Jarndyce and Jarndyce and
Michael Clayton, with no easy culprit, plenty of waste and corruption, and no good answer; on a lighter note, in another essay in the book I learned a new word:
bosky . . . perhaps your yard is bosky-- especially if you live in Central Jersey.
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