You're the Zodiac Killer! No, I'm Not.

Michael O'Hare tells an oddly amusing story about being accused by an "amateur sleuth" of being the Zodiac Killer. The accusations, based on a lot of numerical mumbo jumbo, don't seem to cause Mr. O'Hare too much distress. He calls a series of late-night harassing phone calls from his accuser, "my favorite episode." Then there's his reaction to his accuser's odd predictions.

I understand Penn also predicted that I would commit suicide in a particular way on a particular date, but I was not informed in time to comply and am now many years overdue.

Sounds like he's handling this pretty well.

Mr. O'Hare loses me at the end, however, when he describes his mental image of his accuser, whom he has never knowingly met.

He's seated cross-legged on the floor surrounded by an enormous collection of Lego pieces, each one a fact either about me or about the Zodiac/Webster crimes. Hour after hour, day after day, he assembles an amazing structure, but the pieces from the two batches don't fit together properly, so he relabels something that looks useful, or whittles a new piece from scratch into the shape he needs.

C'mon, dude. Everyone knows that Lego bricks fit perfectly together. Even pieces from different "batches." Ha ha. That's why you should always buy real Lego parts, never Mega Blocks, Tyco blocks, Chinese fake-Lego-eBay-crap, or any of that. Legos always fit.