There are three things about which I cannot tell you. The first is something I've known about for a long time now. Let that one go. Even if I told you, there would be nothing you could do about it now. You're better off not knowing.
The second is breaking news. There's no covering this one up. You're going to be hearing about it very soon now; in fact, by the middle of next week, take a look at the newspaper - look for the most shocking, disturbing story on the front page. That's it. That's the one I can't tell you. When you see it, hopefully it will make sense to you, as to why I can't say anything now. You would do the same in my shoes.
The third thing is another kettle of brisket entirely. This is a secret so grave, that no one can tell it and live to tell the tale. A secret so bold, that it cries out to be kept silent. A secret so delicious, that generations of blabbermouths have taken it to their graves gladly. No human eye has glimpsed, nor human tongue told, the secret that I am not about to reveal to you now. This is the sort of secret that could reach down and jostle the foundations of bedrock notions held as commonsense truths throughout the civilized world. A secret like this could root out the skeletons from the dank and privileged closets of the high and monied, could expose the shameful lie hiding behind all major world religions and bring heretofore respected public institutions tottering to their knees.
You may ask, how did I come to know this secret? That, I'm afraid I can't tell you. The true tale of how I came to know the secret is nearly as terrible as the secret itself. Simply know this: I know what I know. And I am not going to tell you.
Nyah.
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