THERE is a mathematical theory that states that if you sit a monkey in front of a keyboard and allow it to hit the keys for long enough, it will almost surely be able to type the complete works of William Shakespeare.
It's called the infinite monkey theorem and, for obvious reasons, it has come to describe events that are theoretically possible but statistically improbable - you know, like Barry McElduff putting a loaf of Kingsmill bread on his head and making some bizarre remarks in a post published on the anniversary of the Kingsmill massacre - and then being expected to regard it as an unfortunate coincidence in no way intended to cause offence...
At least that's what apologists for the Sinn Féin MP's late night antics would have had us believe.
"There's Barry mucking about again... he's so funny, the way he always puts things on his head... if you're not from Tyrone you won't get it... he would never have intended to offend anyone..."
None of that stands up to any scrutiny, of course. Whatever the vagaries of the Sinn Féin social media policy, even the Shinnerbots fell silent as the party realised it was in the realms of defending the indefensible.
Amid all the horrors of the Troubles, it is perhaps surprising that so few are remembered as a 'massacre'.
What happened near Kingsmill in south Armagh on January 5, 1976 could be called nothing less.
How else to describe the slaughter of 10 workmen - it would have been 11, but Alan Black somehow survived being shot 18 times - for simply being Protestants?
The attack was claimed by the so-called South Armagh Republican Action Force, widely regarded as being an IRA cover name.
Mr McElduff is no innocent when it comes to Twitter and Facebook. He is a prolific user of social media and has even published a book about his online experiences.
Nor can he claim ignorance about the Kingsmill massacre. The anniversary was widely reported last week and Mr McElduff has previously argued that IRA man Raymond McCreesh, who was caught with one of the guns used in the Kingsmill murders, was deserving of a Nobel prize.
Another social media savvy Sinn Féin politician, budget-dodging former finance minister Máirtín Ó Muilleoir, retweeted the McElduff Kingsmill video.
He later deleted his retweet and apologised, though with no more vigour than Mr McElduff.
Long before Mr McElduff clowned around with a loaf of bread, most unionists will have already concluded that Sinn Féin's sanctimonious hectoring of all and sundry about respect, equality and integrity - a buzz phrase usually coupled to "no return to the status quo" - lacked sincerity.
Gerry Adams said as much when he stated that equality was "the Trojan horse of the entire republican strategy" and that he wanted to use equality "break these bastards", the "bastards" being unionists.
The dishwater-thin sanction given to Mr McElduff - a three-month paid suspension to an MP who was, by virtue of Sinn Féin's Westminster abstentionism, underemployed anyway - will, for many unionists, merely underline the fact that the party is only serious about respect on its own narrow, self-serving terms.
That's not to say republican calls for respect from political unionism are without validity. The downward spiral that resulted in Stormont's collapse a year ago demonstrates that.
Arriving into this appalling vista is Karen Bradley.
If you are an English MP, there may be no such thing as a 'good week' to be told by the prime minister of the day that you are being given the tremendous opportunity of adding 'secretary of state for Northern Ireland' to your CV.
The role still attracts a seat at the cabinet table in Number 10, so is not without kudos, but it is clear that Northern Ireland and our internecine squabbles are a long, long way behind Brexit on the government's list of priorities - somewhere below Larry the cat's next dinner, by the look of it.
It is obviously too early to say if Mrs Bradley is going to inject some Mo Mowlam-esque energy into our moribund political process; she is having to go through the necessary courtesies of meeting the parties, which would suck energy from anyone.
After that, she might want to lock the politicians in a cage, shackle them to keyboards and make them hit the keys until they manage to come up with an agreement.
Or maybe she could just lock them in a cage and move to direct rule.
