For now, the Oxford comma lives on at Oxford. And it lives on in my heart. Life is nasty, brutish, and short (or, to introduce unnecessary ambiguity, ‘life is nasty, brutish and short’), and the least I can do for myself is to hold tight to the linguistic niceties about which I, for whatever reason, care. It’s comforting. It’s calming. And when it comes to taking a firm position about mostly unimportant debates, that’s about all I can hope for.