He's got the whole world in his hands

Rainman tugged and tugged, ignoring the friction burns and concomitant lacerations, together with the lack of sensate feedback, as the clock hands reached towards midnight, just like the futile strokes of temporality approaching the tangential field of infinity, whose only achievement was - and is - the mineral deficient wad of disappointment.

Pale.

And avoiding ale.

With no productive value.