Trust math in the locker room
‘Because if that’s your burr then rest in my assurance, Postalcode: certain things are rock-solid, high-grade true.’ […] ‘Buck up, T.P. It’s just an angst-spasm. You’re just reeling from a temporary paternal kertwang. Philosophical truth’s jutting out all over the place. Disney World or no. Nose or no. Eschaton lives on, believe me. Underground or no. You have a calling, a talent. A missileman of your caliber. Reach down and rally, me little button.’
Context
Pemulis finds his Big Buddy Todd Possalthwaite — nose still taped from the Eschaton debacle — weeping "Nothing's true" over a welching father, and starts assembling the consolation his sermon will finish. First entry on the list of rock-solid truths: Eschaton itself, surviving underground — the map-game offered as a thing you can still believe in after the father-territory gave way.